Trigger warning: self-harming thoughts, suicidal ideation.
So I'm a bit drunk. It's my little sister's 18th birthday, and I've been plied with champagne for around 4 hours straight. Alcohol and depression are not a good mix.
I miss my ex-partner so much. I just want to curl up and cry. I don't want to feel like this any more. I don't really want to be here any more.
I can talk to anyone about this at the moment because I don't want to ruin my sister's party, but right now I just want to self harm - maybe even kill myself. If I could just stop existing right now so I don't have to feel anything that would be great. Again, the thing keeping me from that is not wanting anyone in the family to find out that I get this bad, or take attention away from my little sister. I just can't cope any more. Fuck this life.
Saturday 28 December 2013
Sunday 22 December 2013
ALL the emotions!
Recently I've been really struggling to wake up. Every time my alarm goes off, I can feel sleep trying to drag me back into its comforting clutches. I snooze my alarm a few times, maybe reset it for half-an-hour later, thinking that after a little more sleep I'll feel awake enough to get up, but this never happens. The only thing that'll make me get out of bed is having a pre-arranged appointment of activity booked, and even then I'll leave it 'til the last possible minute to get out of bed.
This happened again this morning, with the added lovely gift of my brain reminding me of my dreams, which were rather upsetting.
I finally managed to claw my way into consciousness and get out of the door to go to my yoga class. For the first half of the class, I was able to stay focussed and distracted by what I was doing, but part-way through, I was hit with the force of all the emotions at once. I managed to force myself to keep going, while silently shaking and crying for no apparent reason. It turns out it's very hard to perform yoga whilst crying!
It took all my effort to make myself get showered and dressed after the session, rather than just curling up and crying in the changing room. I got myself home and collapsed onto the sofa with a hot drink and TV episode for distraction. Now that's finished, the emotions are making themselves felt again with gusto. I have no idea why I'm feeling this way today, but I can't stop crying. Everything just seems overwhelming and too much, and all I want is to go back to bed and slip back into sleep, where I don't have to be conscious or feel anything.
Thursday 19 December 2013
The Insomnia Monster
So, dear reader: today I will entertain you with my herculean battle against the insomnia monster.
The other night I was lying in my bed, trying to get to sleep, like a responsible grown-up. I wriggled around to get comfy, closed my eyes, and waited to drift off to sleep. Half an hour later, I was still lying there, wide awake, while my brain acted like a little child adamantly insisting they're not tired, and refusing to go to bed, despite being exhausted.
I decided to read a bit of my book to try to give my brain something to do for a little while, in a sneaky attempt to tire it out. This... was not a clever plan. My book was not only so engaging that I couldn't put it down until I knew what happened next, it was also soul-destroyingly upsetting. This led to me being wide awake, bawling my eyes out over these fictional characters, and soaking my pillow in tears. Not the best method of getting to sleep.
Eyes dried (and pillow turned over), I tried once again to sleep, but to no avail. My brain kept going back to the events in my book, which would set me off crying again.
I decided to get up out of bed and do something different. I went on the computer.
Now, as anyone in the world can tell you, going on the computer will NOT make you tired and want to sleep - in fact, it will keep you awake far past the time you decide you ought to go to bed. Stupidly, because I was overtired, I didn't think of this.
Somehow, it was now 5:30 in the morning. I was yawning a little, but my brain was still just as active. I'd tried meditation, self-hypnosis, stopping all thoughts, listening to music, and allowing my brain to do what it wanted. None of these had worked. I needed to somehow tire myself out to the point that I couldn't think, and could just fall blissfully into sleep. The gym opened at 6am.
As the doors opened, I was there, bag in hand, waiting in the queue to check in. A queue? Why would people go there at this time out of choice?! Crazy folk.
After an exhausting work-out, I staggered back to my car and sat down. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I drove home (all the while thinking that I probably wasn't safe to drive) and stumbled up the steps into my house, not sure whether I wanted to cry from exhaustion, collapse, or fall asleep. I chose the latter, and stumbled gratefully into my bed. Within moments, I was asleep.
I'd love to say that the story ended there, and I got a great night's (or rather, day's) sleep, but alas. The people who live below me decided that today, they'd get out a pneumatic drill. Just, y'know, for kicks. They waited until about an hour after I'd fallen to sleep, to start their relentless drilling, pounding, banging, and generally making as much noise as was humanly possible with a bag full of tools. I woke up numerous times with my walls vibrating to bangs, crashes, and drilling sounds. I "slept" like this, on and off until 2:20pm, when I decided that no matter how tired I still was, I ought to get up.
I spent the afternoon at the cinema with friends, and then at a casual christmas party in the evening. As soon as I sat down at the party, my eyes were starting to droop, and it was all I could do to keep my end of conversations going. After a couple of hours I excused myself, drove home, blasting cold air at my face to keep myself awake, and collapsed into bed. This time, I went straight to sleep. There was no drilling.
The other night I was lying in my bed, trying to get to sleep, like a responsible grown-up. I wriggled around to get comfy, closed my eyes, and waited to drift off to sleep. Half an hour later, I was still lying there, wide awake, while my brain acted like a little child adamantly insisting they're not tired, and refusing to go to bed, despite being exhausted.
I decided to read a bit of my book to try to give my brain something to do for a little while, in a sneaky attempt to tire it out. This... was not a clever plan. My book was not only so engaging that I couldn't put it down until I knew what happened next, it was also soul-destroyingly upsetting. This led to me being wide awake, bawling my eyes out over these fictional characters, and soaking my pillow in tears. Not the best method of getting to sleep.
Eyes dried (and pillow turned over), I tried once again to sleep, but to no avail. My brain kept going back to the events in my book, which would set me off crying again.
I decided to get up out of bed and do something different. I went on the computer.
Now, as anyone in the world can tell you, going on the computer will NOT make you tired and want to sleep - in fact, it will keep you awake far past the time you decide you ought to go to bed. Stupidly, because I was overtired, I didn't think of this.
Somehow, it was now 5:30 in the morning. I was yawning a little, but my brain was still just as active. I'd tried meditation, self-hypnosis, stopping all thoughts, listening to music, and allowing my brain to do what it wanted. None of these had worked. I needed to somehow tire myself out to the point that I couldn't think, and could just fall blissfully into sleep. The gym opened at 6am.
As the doors opened, I was there, bag in hand, waiting in the queue to check in. A queue? Why would people go there at this time out of choice?! Crazy folk.
After an exhausting work-out, I staggered back to my car and sat down. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I drove home (all the while thinking that I probably wasn't safe to drive) and stumbled up the steps into my house, not sure whether I wanted to cry from exhaustion, collapse, or fall asleep. I chose the latter, and stumbled gratefully into my bed. Within moments, I was asleep.
I'd love to say that the story ended there, and I got a great night's (or rather, day's) sleep, but alas. The people who live below me decided that today, they'd get out a pneumatic drill. Just, y'know, for kicks. They waited until about an hour after I'd fallen to sleep, to start their relentless drilling, pounding, banging, and generally making as much noise as was humanly possible with a bag full of tools. I woke up numerous times with my walls vibrating to bangs, crashes, and drilling sounds. I "slept" like this, on and off until 2:20pm, when I decided that no matter how tired I still was, I ought to get up.
I spent the afternoon at the cinema with friends, and then at a casual christmas party in the evening. As soon as I sat down at the party, my eyes were starting to droop, and it was all I could do to keep my end of conversations going. After a couple of hours I excused myself, drove home, blasting cold air at my face to keep myself awake, and collapsed into bed. This time, I went straight to sleep. There was no drilling.
Wednesday 18 December 2013
Introduction, hello, welcome, etc
So... hi. This is my blog. This is where I'll spew the often nonsensical ramblings of the rather precarious journeys of my mind.
A little about me, then. I'm 25, I live in the UK. I'm a fan of Dr Who, Sherlock, Torchwood, (are you seeing a theme here?) singing, acting, knitting, reading, skiing, ice-skating, rock climbing, swimming, and a tonne of other things.
You might have read that and thought 'oh wow, this person is very active and sporty! You have been cruelly deceived, my friend. I did not lie - I do indeed love all of the aforementioned activities, however, my life at the moment currently consists of sitting on my sofa, watching episodes of old TV shows on my laptop, whilst knitting a scarf. I do the sporty things rarely. I wish I did them more often, but I'm lazy. I'm a lazy speed-freak. This is perfectly possible, I assure you. I love doing all of these things (as well as: judo; fencing; polocrosse; snowboarding; and a load of others I've probably forgotten), but the idea of actually finding somewhere local to do these things, booking it, getting up off the sofa, putting clothes on, leaving the house, and finally getting to said location, seems like a lot of effort to get to the thing I like doing. If there was a climbing wall up the outside of my house, I would go every day. Actually scratch that that was a lie - if the climbing wall was inside my house, then I would go every day. Sometimes outside seems like much too much effort, when the sofa is here.
Oh, I am also recovering from a rather lengthy period of depression. I am far better than I was at the start of it all, but I'm still not completely better. I still sometimes get suicidal thoughts and urges to self-harm, but I am gradually finding ways to overcome them, or at least wait them out. I've discovered that my friends are all wonderful people who are there for me when I need them, go out of their way to help me, and most of all, just understand. You can never underestimate the worth of just being there for someone, without judgement.
Anyway, I think that's enough for my first post. So, see ya!
Oh wait, I need a name. I'll go by... Phoenix.
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