Tag: mental illness

Thanks, December

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I want to die again

Thanks, December. 

The year weighing heavily on me;

The new one even heavier. 

The sins of the past,

The mistakes of the future. 

Digging myself out or digging myself under? 

Time passing me by, 

Life drifting on its way. 

Here I stay,

No longer moving forward. 

Always looking behind, 

Stuck dreading ahead. 

Trying to breathe through the fog I feel in my soul. 

Maybe next December. 

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

If you are thinking of suicide there is help available. In Canada call 9-8-8.

Panic Attack / Through Me

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I can feel this anxiety crashing through me

Like a tumultuous storm.

Pushing, pulling, raging

Through me.

Energy looking for an exit.

I can taste it on the back of tongue,

Acrid and thick like thunder and lightning. 

Looking for an exit,

Building until it breaks me. 

The waves rushing through me;

Tears from my eyes, 

vomit from my mouth, 

sobs from my soul. 

Taking my breath away, the weight sitting on my chest.

Anxiety turned to panic and back again,

As the waves recede. 

The seas remain unsettled and the clouds hang thickly, waiting to build again and 

Storm

Through me. 

Hope this finds you well,

-L

September Melancholy

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My pen bleeds onto paper ever September.

Melancholy is my muse.

To millions, this month is a beginning; to me, it’s always a goodbye.

The seasons change and drag us along with them. As the leaves turn from green to yellow, and then to brown, my mood begins the same change.

Perhaps I’ll always be sad in the fall; who wouldn’t be if they’d lived the same autumns that I have.

Missing, always. Madness too.

The leaves dry, as do my tears.

I wish to crumple up with them on the ground and let September pass me by while my pen bleeds me dry.

Hello, September.

Goodbye.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

Even in the Night

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Darkness recognizes darkness.

That’s my theory on why I can’t seem to sleep until it’s light out.

While lying awake at night, I relish the thoughts of just going for a drive, going for late night/early morning McDonald’s, going out and about in the stillest of hours. At night it feels like I can do anything or be anyone.

Yet, as much as my bed often feels like a refuge, it feels like it has walls closing in as soon as the light begins to fade. Walls close in as the darkness quickens.

Sleep never comes easy at night but as the dawn breaks, I’m able to drift away securely.

The darkness in my mind and in my heart recognizes darkness and waits to conquer me once I close my eyes.

Half of this battle is working my entire life around this. In that, I have succeeded. I have worked one entire year of night shifts and have slept soundly during the daylight.

The darkness has all but put out my light.

How can darkness be at once still and freeing, yet heavy and suffocating?

I’m tired of the dark but it still feels safer, though only while awake.

I wish and wish for that eternal darkness where there is no need to worry about waking or sleeping; about dawn or dusk. For that I would go to sleep gladly, even in the night.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

If Not Love

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Spending time with family used to bring me a little slice of contentment and peace, just knowing they were safe and happy was all it took.

Now it slowly slices off pieces of my heart. They are happy and safe, and they feel contentment and peace. I feel years removed from them. Their joy is no longer my joy. Time spent together is like rubbing salt in a wound, like hand sanitizer on paper cuts.

I spent so much of my life protecting them and shielding them and all I get for it is pain and faked smiles.

I was invited over for supper and by the time I got there, everyone had already eaten and the supper was cold. Their uncaring sliced deep. They were a family without me. I had worked thanklessly over Thanksgiving while they all spent time with loved ones but I did not get the same courtesy.

I spend so much time picking out presents for them that they will need or will find useful and I get not a one in return. My only gift this year was a jar of lotion in a scent that makes me nauseous, from my mother who doesn’t even like me.

It’s just one thing after another. There’s been times where I haven’t felt loved, but I’ve never felt so unloved.

I’ve always hoped to feel love from my family; true unconditional love. Now I don’t think I ever will.

I’ve loved them with my whole heart for my entire life.

I suppose I stuck with life partly because I always hoped I’d eventually feel love and that my family would feel like warmth and security. Family has been my safety plan for 20 years.

That’s what the books say, isn’t it? Have a safety plan. Create a safety plan. Have your friends help you make a safety plan.

Mine has been crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, and now it’s finished.

What is there left to live for, if not love?

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

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If you or someone you know needs support right now, there is help available.

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Tired

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When does the tired stop?

When does the tired come to an end?

When does the joy of living join my life and outweigh the tired?

Tired of being awake.

Tired of being in pain.

Tired of hurting.

Tired of wishing.

Tired of hoping.

Tired.

I’m tired of waiting for the sun to peek over the omnipresent clouds.

I’m tired of waiting for the relief of a painless deep breath; for a resurfacing from the dragging, heavy, cold water.

I’m tired of tired.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

Enduring

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The sun sets and without it the world grows cool and monochrome.

Life already feels grey, without the sun, more so.

The cool dark stretches for years ahead of me and years behind.

What does it take to cause the sun to return, besides enduring the long, cold night?

I am weary of enduring; weary of the dark and the monotone.

Have I adapted to the bleakness or have I forgotten how sun can light up the world?

Is it both; is there any difference?

The leaves fall from the trees; snow flies, wind howls, but spring never comes.

Somehow even the darkness is too bright for my eyes, so I shut myself away further.

The cold seeps under my skin and the dark leeches into my bones.

Still, I find I cannot bring myself to yearn for the sun’s return.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

Eating Disorders Aren’t Just For Skinny People

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Trigger warning: eating disorders

Eating disorders aren’t just for skinny people.

Mine looks like:

-not eating for 12+ hours

-taking 2.5 hours to try and plan a binge that will satisfy all the cravings

-spending 5 minutes eating enough food for 2 people

-waiting 10 minutes to feel full

-spending 3 minutes throwing it all up

-brushing my teeth for 4 minutes

-going about my life as if nothing happened

-feeling both satisfied and empty

-feeling guilt and shame

My shift work life easily enables long spaces between meals and not resting enough. I’m a nurse. Do I know better? Absolutely. Does it matter? Absolutely not.

It’s the thinnest line I’ve known between control and out of control: the swing from binging to purging.

You couldn’t tell if you watched me at work or in public, eating carefully balanced and portioned meat, quinoa, and veggies or having a salad as my side.

Nobody sees because I don’t let them.

I’m fat, I have an eating disorder, and nobody knows.

I wonder about telling my counsellor about this but we easily use up our time talking about the myriad of other thoughts and feelings taking up my brain. Ironic that I take up too much space and I feel as though this, too, takes up too much space.

Admitting it to myself is a start, writing it here is a little further. One day I’ll say it out loud.

Hope this finds you well,

-L

(Before you get all up in my grill about me calling myself fat, objectively I am a size 3XL, ~280lbs, and 5’6”. I will not use my BMI as an indicator.)

Fading

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I can’t explain the feeling other than to say it feels like I’m dying. It feels like a process and it feels like I’m fading out of my own life. Everything seems like it should be goodbye.

In Pirates of the Caribbean they have the black spot.

In Harry Potter they have The Grimm.

You can choose your own omen of death.

Reality has a dark cloud.

I just have this feeling.

It feels inevitable. I expected it to feel suffocating and am almost surprised that it doesn’t.

It feels like I’m just going through the motions of living my life, which is nothing new to me.

At this new stage in my life, I assumed things would be better than this. I have an actual chance to live the life I want to. I have a degree, I have a nursing license, I’m living by myself, I have a steady income. However, these check boxes and milestones do not guarantee happiness. I assumed they’d bring me the feeling of security I’ve been looking for all my life.

I still feel like I’m just walking on the edge. Added to that now is the dying.

I wish this feeling would tell me how much time I have left. I can’t help but wonder if it’ll progress and then I’ll know.

It’s still May. June is close but July feels as though I won’t make it that far.

Maybe I’ll just be forever fading away.

Hope this finds you well,

-L

You Don’t Owe Anybody Thinness

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“You don’t owe anybody thinness” is what I keep repeating to myself every time I find myself sucking in my stomach or hunching my shoulders in public. After a million or so times it should sink in.

For good measure I try to follow this up with “It’s okay to take up space.”

How silly it is that we live in a world where we’re judged by the amount of space we take up to go about our daily lives and that somehow our value should be derived from how much or how little space we use.

Has anybody directly told me “You take up too much space”? No. Is that message present in marketing and clothing sizes and diet culture? Yes.

My favourite feature is my face, I like nothing about my size or about my body. To even myself, I’m only just a pretty face.

Hope this finds you well,

-L