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10:42 p.m. - 2018-10-16
Lonely Spirals
Well hello again. Old friend.

Quick spirals with or without the presence of a long break. It is a vicious cycle, an uncoordinated run at the path out, resulting in speedy U turns and unfortunate twists. My thoughts quit making sense.

Being happy is like bobbing on the surface of the water. Lately I've been just treading, trying to keep my head above water. I can't. I flail, exhausted. I slip under for a moment. I spiral.

I have a hard time deducing which is truth and which is my slanted version of reality. I am an unreliable narrator. An unreliable narrator inhabiting my brain. How long has this dissociated narrator been here? Forever? Am I to be trusted at all?

Perhaps my memories of my entire life are a gilded lie. If this is true, how do I move forward? What if I can't?

I have not figured out how to move forward, yet life, my life, plunges on. My consciousness roosts in this other court-like world of self-judgement. Each action goes under thorough scrutiny: good? good enough? bad? irreparable? embarrassing? humiliating? unbearable? And if it is so bad, (and so many things have been so bad), is it worth going on?

Existence is such a strange thing. My delicate, tiptoeing dance into self-reflection too often leads to deep, unwarranted despair. An embarrassingly raw feeling. It seems to be exposed to all that come near me. A constant whisper, "They know. They can see it.They can sense it, smell it. You are a fraud and everyone knows. They all see the truth, have discussed it, they know. They have to know. All of them."

But what if none of these thoughts make sense? Are these the ramblings of a crazy mind? So I can't share them. I can't share these thoughts, because I can't take on the consequences: therapy. Being forced to talk and be watched, judged, forcing me to face a truth I can't stomach: I am destroying myself. I am the only thing to fix. And anytime I try to fix myself, I do it wrong, or I undermine my own efforts; a quick spiral. a vicious cycle, an uncoordinated run at the path out, resulting in speedy U turns and unfortunate twists. My thoughts quit making sense.

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I'm ashamed of my selfishness as I collapse in on myself. I. Me. My. Depression can often be identified through analysis of writing samples. Depressed people use definitives -- always, never, forever -- and refer to self often -- I, me, my. I exist in my own head now. My experiences become less and less grounded: as I type, I am not conscious of the body or location or existence of my physical being. I solely focus on my thoughts. Their sound, and look, and color, and volume, and magnitude. Sometimes the thoughts are meant to be made into a sound but I get too caught up in them to bother moving my mouth to make noise. I am clearly crazy.

I know the answers to fix it. I need fresh air, and exercise. I need a purpose -- the feelings of belonging brought on by volunteering, or religion. A schedule helps. Keeping up with activities that give a brain some peace. Getting that fresh air, exercise, purpose. I do these things. But any blip in the schedule seems to lead to quick spirals. But I seem to fall into quick spirals with or without the presence of a long break. Any change or interruption leads to my speedy return to my hiding place. Insecurity, heavily armored with self-loathing. I also know the key to self-confidence: good sleep, good food, good exercise, and good thoughts. It is important to fight the bad thoughts. If you start allowing a few through, ("I am too fat", "If only I were intelligent"), debilitating thoughts become an avalanche. A silently roaring burial, leaving no trace of humanity. Just a flat, smooth, glistening base of snow. I can't get out. Is this the end? Does this just continue forever?

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I am terrible because I always think that the answer is our relationship. I am terrible because I am terrified that the problem is our relationship. I constantly scare myself out of considering that I am not right for our relationship, and that it's not right for me.

I think I've been destined to fail at us since I was rejected. It's been nearly 4 years and I have never forgiven myself for loving someone who didn't love me. I felt so stupid. I am constantly afraid to be vulnerable. I am afraid to lean on someone- no, to trust someone- and find myself falling. I am afraid that if I let my guard down, I will get hurt. I hurt myself after I open up. I judge every action, word, look. I am my worst enemy. I find all of my missteps and replay them, jeering at my own stupidity. I am my problem. Clearly it is not us. Our relationship doesn't make me hate myself. But what does? And I should certainly be on my own if I am this insane.

So. I can't share these thoughts, because I can't take on the consequences: realizing that I am unlovable. Having others realize that I am unlovable.

This is my true fear. I am terrified that people will realize I am unlovable.

Ensuring people don't find out I am unlovable is what drives me. Protecting my secret awfulness propels many of my decisions and reactions. I am clearly insane.

I can't even think of any songs that explain how I feel. How lonely.

How lonely.

 

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