Saturday, August 27, 2016

And the Oscar goes to....

I am mentally ill.  There, I've said it.

I'm bipolar.  I have general anxiety and social anxiety.  I have ptsd.  I get panic and anxiety attacks daily.  I hallucinate. I get extremely paranoid over things that are all in my head.

Every fucking day is a struggle.

I don't usually tell people when I'm having a really hard time.  You see, I've learned to become an amazing actress over the years.  I spent my childhood pretending to be happy so that I wouldn't be ripped away from my parents.  I spent my teenage years pretending that I wasn't bullied and that things were ok. When secretly I was dying inside and hated life.  I have been spending my adult years trying to make sense of what happened to me as a child and what's happening to me now.

I say that I am tired of pretending, tired of acting... yet I still find myself putting on an Oscar winning performance every day.

I occasionally post about the hard time I am having, but I don't want to bring people down so I try to stay positive for everyone else... if that fails, I don't post anything.

From the outside looking in, my life looks awesome.  I have a husband who does everything for me, supports me, never calls me ugly names. I have amazing parents that give me everything.  I have a home.  I have beautiful and loving furbabies...

But- I'm struggling.  I'm struggling with living.  My body hurts.  My heart hurts.  My brain hurts. I hate it.  I hate feeling this way.  I'm scared.  I know the statistics of mentally ill people.  I know I'm not alone.  But, that doesn't stop me from feeling this way.

My mental state doesn't affect the way I will treat those I keep in my life.  If you need positive words, I will give them.  If you post a cute pic of your pets, I will love them.  If you post a funny picture, I will laugh.  If you share your art,I will oooh and awww.

I will also hold my breath as a plane flies overhead.  I will feel sick to my stomach when I watch or read the news.  I will cry when I can't put my emotions to words.  I will feel frustration and get angry when my feelings are hurt and disregarded.  I will yell when I'm sad.  I will yell when I'm angry.  I will stare at my scars and want to create more. But... I will pray.  My prayers will give me comfort.  A comfort that those who do not believe will not understand.  The next day that I wake up, I will put on my mask that hides all my pain. I will put on that Oscar winning performance.  Because if I don't... I will surely die.

I'm tired of acting, but I can't stop. It's all I know.  It's all I've done for the last 29 years.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

I feel dead inside

Sometimes I wonder if people who are mentally ill that commit suicide do so because their illness causes physical pain and living with that pain becomes too overwhelming and they just want it to stop.

I want lots of things to stop. I want to stop feeling like shit.  I want to stop being so angry. I wAnt to stop being so anxious.  I want to stop having nightmares.  I want to stop being me.

So often I feel like I need to cry but I spend so much time crying.  Yet, I don't remember any of it.

I hate being around the negative energy that my parents often project when they are around each other.  I hate the fact that I can't write this without my dad hearing about it and then becoming upset with my honesty.  I hate the fact that I've lost my writing outlet because my parents found out about my blog so now I have to write in secret and keep everything bottled up.

I hate that I can't save all the animals in the world and that there will be some that never know love.

I hate that those who hurt children don't have harsher punishments.

I'm angry.  I'm hateful.   I want to be able to say what I'm really feeling.... but I can't.  I'm stifled.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

World Bipolar Day

Yes, today is World Bipolar Day.  It's kind of an important day for me.  It's a day when those of us affected by this illness get to share our stories with each other and the world.

Every day is a struggle for me.  Not only is my brain sick, but my body is too.

There isn't one day that goes by that I'm not in pain.  I've learned to live with it.  It's just one of those things you have to do.  If I acknowledged every bit of pain, I'd never get to do anything or think of anything else.  It really sucks.  I don't always say anything but it's there.  It frustrates me so much because I'm only 33 but my body feels so much older.

I have problems sleeping, which is something I've always struggled with.  One, I can't ignore those demons that haunt me eveen I sleep and two, most bipolar people have this struggle and three, I'm pretty sure it's a genetic predisposition as well.

I know my issues aren't more than anyone else's but to me, they are huge.  I try not to acknowledge every little thing I suffer with, but it all makes every fucking day so hard.

I miss writing.  I miss it so much.  I just find concentrating so hard.

I'm also afraid of writing something and hurting someone I love.  I just wish that I could be normal. I really would give up every creative bone i have just to feel normal. I'm tired of having a sick brain and body.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

I'm still here...

I've been on a blog posting hiatus.  I will write on occasion but not make anything viewable because I fear hurting feelings by writing honest posts.

My birthday is on Monday and I hate my birthday as well as most holidays now because they serve as a reminder that my family chose that disgusting bastard over me.

I have fallen out of love with most people in my family because of this... now I just feel extreme anger, hatred and disgust when I think of them.  It's pretty sad, but it's how it is.

I'm super depressed so I may sound extremely blunt or callous.  I'm aware of this but I just don't care.

I wish that my life had been different.  I wish that all the shit that happened to me during my developmental years didn't.  I would trade all the creativity I have, for a normal brain.  I hate that I've pretended to be happy or okay for so long that I'm not sure what it really feels like.  I hate that when I choose to be honest about my feelings, everyone else gets hurt and then I'm left trying to comfort and coddle them.

I just want to be able to feel the way I feel without being made to feel guilty about it.

My brain never fucking turns off and my body fucking hurts.  It's so frustrating.

I really want a puppy.  Puppies make me happy.