mental health

10/31/2015 – Day Thirty – Three.

I am just going to straight up say this, I don’t care about my birthday. I don’t. Past experiences have caused me to have such a bitterness about my birthday, that I wish I could skip the day completely. This isn’t some cry for help, not some sort of dramatic situation. Some time between childhood and early adulthood, I just stopped caring. I’ve tried doing elaborate birthday parties, tried doing fancy dinners, but everything didn’t seem right with me. I get really bad anxiety, which caused me to think of every bad scenario that could happen. I’ve had selfish friendships that have caused me to change my plans multiple times to the extent that I cancel everything.

If I had it my way, I would sit in a museum all day staring at art and people watching. I would sit at my favorite restaurant and eat everything I am afraid to eat. Take a solo trip somewhere and not answer to anyone, until the next day.  Whatever the reason, I usually keep my birthday extremely low key. In the past couple of months, I’ve seen my emotions come from the lowest of the low to an extreme high. Its my insecurities on overdrive, its my anxiety, depression, and everything in-between. I don’t know how to explain it to anyone. Birthdays are an excuse for people to pick me apart, when I should really feel they are celebrating the greatness that is me. I can’t help but think what could you celebrate me for? I haven’t done anything right in years. I haven’t been able to keep myself together in months. Why would you? Those are all my insecurities, paranoias, etc. I don’t know where I got the idea to do anything for my birthday, but after years I wanted to do something.

On 10/31/2015, I turned 33. Something inside of me considered it an accomplishment. I wanted to do something. Not something big, just something simple surrounded by people I cared the most about. I didn’t want to go on some extravagant trip. I didn’t want to get all fussed about in some stuffy restaurant. I didn’t want to go to a bar and get completely shit faced (which I have done countless times). I wanted to feel comfortable in a place I sometimes don’t feel comfortable in. I guess to an average person doing a dinner at home, isn’t some big deal. But when you don’t do anything for your birthday, it means the world to someone. Even if that someone happens to be me. I didn’t expect much, just a few of my close friends, in a small intimate setting, eating, drinking and having a good time. I just wanted to celebrate life surrounded by the people I cared about the most. I wanted to do everything myself. I wanted to decorate, plan, have a menu, have drinks, everything. I wanted to prove to myself that my emotions will not get the best of me and that I can do things. I realized that cooking has a very soothing effect on me. That having myself following a task that I set myself, challenges all my insecurities. Of course I wanted people to have fun, to enjoy themselves, but I wanted to make sure I could do things. That I could host a magnitude of people and still feel okay.

I keep myself guarded after years of being let down by prior friendships. I have a hard time admitting to close friends when I am upset or hurt or sad. I don’t let people in, when I should be trusting with people. Most of my friends have never been to my home. I don’t like inviting people over because this doesn’t feel like my house. Because it isn’t, I didn’t earn this home. Something always caught my attention that at a certain age we are suppose to leave and make our own ways. Which has been a huge insecurity of mine. I realized now that, I needed to be home. I needed to heal and grow, and get stronger. I needed to realize my past mistakes were all growing experiences. People may consider it weird that a person my age still lives at home, but I realized I can’t let people dictate how I feel. I came home to get better because living every where was making me sick. I had been sick for a long time and never told anyone. Then life happened. My mom got sick and I choose to stay. Its hard for me to admit its been hard, because it has. Now I am just piecing everything together and can finally start doing things on my own. I am okay, my mom is okay, and soon I will go on my own way. I shouldn’t feel embarrassed by my experiences but sometimes when the wind gets knocked out of you, you can’t help but feel that way.

It has nothing to do with my birthday but then it has everything. We are expected to be a brand new person every year that hits our birthday. Feel grown from the birthday prior. The past few years, I’ve just grown more sick in a downward spiral. 33, is important to me that, I wasn’t going to put up with my own bullshit. I wasn’t going to let my sickness dictate my life, I wasn’t going to let the past come back and haunt me. For me to be honest about this, makes me realize that I know I am going to be okay. Its taken me a long time to realize that I am not just passing through this home, this place is home. Having people I cared about over to my home, meant the world to me. Its silly to say that it meant the absolute world to me. I didn’t expect much, I drove myself crazy days prior to my birthday. Then I realized that the people I see before me are the people that have helped me in more ways then they can imagine. They have loved me unconditionally when I haven’t been the best person to them or myself. I have had people cut me out of their life, I have cut people out of my life, and still standing before me are the people that stayed no matter what. I knew it would take years to work up the courage to ever do this again, but for 6 hours, I truly felt love, light, and every mushy positivity vibe shine through. I realized that I may not be everyone’s favorite person. On average, I could be the worst person. I say things without thinking of the consequences. I haven’t been kind to people who only deserve my kindness. But I am not the same person I was a year ago. I am not the same person I was 3 months ago. Sometimes it takes something to scare you, to help you grow into who you need to be. I am still growing up, whether I want to or not.

Sometimes it’s the things that scare you the most, are the things you have to do for yourself.

9/6/15 – Day Twenty.

I gave myself a break. Where I didn’t think about anything with the exception of what is in front of me. Something simple. Something sweet, anything to occupy my time away from these thoughts. How do you explain that one day you woke up hating everyone and their existence? That words from everyone close to you, make you shudder and shut down. Or that you can’t explain this need to be alone but you need to be. Why can’t words match what you feel in your heart?

People already think I am crazy, what’s more insanity with a little more misunderstanding. I don’t blame them for thinking that way, they’re only thinking what they can’t understand. I feel so misunderstood lately, that no one really understands me.  Not that it matters. I just don’t feel like painting my face like everyone else, when its not how I feel. I can’t force a smile when those are not the feelings I feel inside. Explaining yourself when you’ve run out of words to say. Its easier to talk about the weather, than say exactly whats wrong.

Half of the time I am not even sure whats wrong, and I am not sure I even want to say how I feel. But today I moved back from those feelings and washed those feelings right out of me. After a few days of living in my filth and not wanting to release these feelings, I am ready to start. Clean, brand new. Find new dreams and polish off the old dreams. Everything else just give it time to regroup itself. Through marathons of old shows and starting over with new shows. I watch what I love and what I fear, keep time with itself. Slowly coming in, side by side. I know I can’t hide from the world. I know I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. What I love and what I fear, will eventually walk side by side. Its then that I’ll admit that this pure fear is knowing that being alone is my burden and my strength. Every day I get closer to overshadowing my fears. I feel myself getting stronger. I feel myself getting better.  But everyone thinks I am crazy. That I have always been the crazy one.

It’s just hard to make someone understand, what they’ll never understand at all.

8/11/2015 – Day Five.

Drained. Emotionally drunk. Punched drunk. My body hurts and no matter how many times I try to get up, I continue to fall back down. Depression hurts all over, changes your mood in a hundred different ways. The more I suppress the feeling, the more it intensifies. What started out a somewhat productive morning, wound up extremely unproductive. After the meltdowns of the past few weeks, I started having fears about everything. To the extent that the upcoming trips I had coming up I wanted to cancel. I have never been one to cancel any trip, but lately emotions take so much out of me. No matter how much I want to put up a positive front, I don’t want to keep lying to myself.

I wasn’t sure what could get my mood back at least somewhat back in order. I knew I couldn’t be like this forever. I could dig myself a deeper hole than I was feeling. All I ever do is pick myself up and try to put back the pieces together. I wanted to pick up the pieces but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to put them back together. I was going to have lunch with a friend of mine, I knew that I needed to lift up my mood in some way. I get these episodes of severe sadness but find myself terrified of anyone finding out. Instead of telling people my problems, I pretend they don’t exist. Keep my emotions locked away in a box, until I am ready to completely deal with them. It’s hard to pick yourself up, when you’re feeling down. It’s hard to force yourself to be who everyones believe you are, when you’re completely falling apart inside. You don’t want your outsides to reflect your insides. Because it hurts, everything hurts.

This feels so repetitive, broken record status. The same thing over and over again. I get it, I sound pathetic. No matter how much I try, I can’t get these feelings out of my head. What do I want? What should I do? Everything and in-between. The more I struggle to figure out what I want, the more time I wasted getting myself together. I could have cancelled today. I could have done a million different things instead of going outside and meeting my friend. I knew I couldn’t avoid the world forever. That maybe a little sunshine would do me some good. Some days I feel stuck in my surroundings and other days I can’t help but succumb to it. When did I become fearful of change? When did everything fall beyond my grasp? All I know is that if I can’t put myself together, at least I can get it together enough to be okay. Even if it’s on the outside. I found myself pushing myself to do things, even when I am emotional incapable of doing things alone.

There’s so many factors that tingle in my fingers and bring a chill to my spine. I realized more than ever how alone I feel. How the clouds feel as if they’re forming against me, instead of staying within the skies. The sun doesn’t beam down on me, it mocks and burns my skin and scars my insides. Still I knew I had to get up and do something about it. I knew that the longer I stayed this way, the more it would hurt to stop this feeling. I got dressed, put a shirt over my head and put on a pair of jeans. It just starts to feel like a routine, you put on your war paint and wait to go into battle. Today I felt more insecure than ever. I felt disgusting, I felt over weight, I felt that a million people were looking at me, when I was the only one looking at myself. I needed to get out of this feeling. I didn’t care what I looked like. I didn’t care that my face was bare or that I didn’t brush my hair. I didn’t care that my shoes didn’t go with my simple jeans and tshirt look. I didn’t care, but somehow on the days that I don’t care, I care way too fucking much. I realized that I’ve come a long way with my body, but I didn’t feel like dealing with it today. I didn’t feel like being much of anything. Somewhere in my mind, I decided I needed to go for a walk. Since my options are limited in my surroundings, I decided to park farther than usual and walk in my hometown.

I succumb to this stage of paranoia. Nothing I say makes sense anymore. If I knew what any of this meant, I would have all of this fixed by now. I sat in my car, wondering about all these sentiments. Wondering if I have really lost it. Wondering if I was steps away of losing myself. Wondering if I was already gone. You tend to look at things differently, when you’re not feeling like yourself. A four block walk, looks like a battlefield to me. That at any given moment, something terrible was about to happen to me. I was crazy to think that way but I couldn’t help but feel completely petrified and utterly alone. It had been a long time since I walked around in my hometown. Walked around by myself without someone guiding me or agreeing where to go. I almost forgot how aware I am about my surroundings. How differently everything looks. I’ve driven down these streets numerous times and I can’t believe how much has changed and how much has remain the same. I never realized what is surrounding me, when I am so busy looking down on the ground. I never realized how businesses from my past have left or been remodeled or just disappeared. How in the past few years my hometown went from flourishing to completely bare bones. I forget how much I have left of myself on the steps that keep being repaved or retouched in hopes of beautifying this town. I forget and I’ve forgotten how these steps wanted something better but instead settled for what was worse.

It breaks my heart to think that the past isn’t as perfect as we saw it. That even the bare bones of old buildings will make memories for other generations after me. I think of all the steps, I keep retracing thinking it will lead me home. I don’t feel okay but being home makes it all go away. Today, I saw flashes of the past with the sadden truth of my present. I saw the life beams of this town and the may times it opened different variations of myself. I guess you never realize how much something changes until you are truly faced with it. I always pretended to see but I was just covering up the truth. You don’t know anything until you really see them, really see the person for who they are. It took me a while to see that in my hometown, I wonder if people think the same about me.



Walk in Silence.


Dark skies and long goodbyes. Memories of past times and I wonder how much of this is real and how much I am make believing. Watching the roads turn then curve and lead me home. The roads they turn but don’t always lead back to you. They don’t always lead back home or places that seem like it. The dark skies with their thousands of stars, illuminate you when you’re asleep then leave when you wake.

It’s all in my head. It’s all in my head, I say.

I’ve pictured you in color but I am still standing in black and white. In the silence of broken melodies and vacancy of closed spaces. Opening windows to the outside and breathing in every last bit of this haunting air that surrounds me. Anything that brings back a sense that this is home. That this is where I am suppose to be. I could leave this. Leave all of this behind. Look back to the cities from which I have lived and see the lights of the homes I’ve lost. Looking through the tears in blurred visions of the past. This wasn’t how it was suppose to be. This wasn’t how I am suppose to live.

I can’t look back. You’re not suppose to look back. Back to the people, the places, and things that bring forth all this sadness. I want to leave this place. Leave this feeling of shame and regret, into sunlight paths with big bright yellow suns. 3am knows all my secrets and hides all my pain. It shakes the shivers in my spine and makes me feel alone. I am not okay, I am not getting better. Still I walk away in silence and into the dark paths lit by the stars.

This isn’t who I am. This isn’t who I am suppose to be. Still, I walk away in silence and in my silence I will stay.



8/10/2015 – Day Four.

Do you ever just need a moment alone to deal with all your own emotional bullshit? Shut off the world and see where your mind is at? Lately I feel like that all the time. I just need this moment to myself to shout to the skies and get the fuck over everything. Scream out my pains and dress up my wounds. I just want to lay down on the floor and listen to all my favorite records. Write out all my frustrations and find some kind of peace of mind. Put my mind elsewhere and focused on something other than what I am feeling. It’s hard to do that when you live at home. Its hard to shut off the world and retreat into your hermit crab shell.

I have been living at home for the past 6 years. Which feels like I just moved back home yesterday. I can’t help but wonder where all the time went. This need to get back on my feet and yet I still find myself here 6 years later. I wonder if it’s all fear that keeps me staying here or if I just haven’t mastered the art of being an adult. On my good days I don’t mind being home, but on the bad days I can’t be here anymore. Everything has it’s place and purpose, eventually I’ll have it all figured out. On one of those rare occasions, I get a few moments to be alone. On a super rare out of this world moment, I get a whole day to be home alone. *Cue Kevin McAllister “AHHHHHH” Track*. I’ll be honest, it’s pretty fucking awesome. When you’re having a mental health, “check yo self, before you wreck yourself” day, it’s like you won the emotional lottery. I have been dealing with my own personal demons for the past month and today everything hit me like a ton of bricks. When you think you have cried out all your tears, your face becomes a waterfall of emotions you’d rather not chase (Maybe TLC had a point?).

Its very rare to get the house to myself but when I do, I take advantage of the opportunity. Today was one of those lucky days where I could be alone. Its like my body senses that I have all this open space and I take advantage of the vacancy. I wake up earlier, stretch my bones out, and pretend that all this open space is mine for the taking. Its weird when you’re growing up how much you crave this idea of being home and back to the comfort of it all. Growing up, leaving, and then coming back home, you still search for this idea of home. Its why I can’t stay comfortable in my house, because it’s not my home. It’s not something I earned, its not something I fought for. To be lost in this open space when no one is around is the closest I come to feeling at home. I unplug myself from the world and exist only in my own tragic little world. You feel like you have to answer to everything and everyone, but for this moment you don’t have to say a word. I love that.

When I am home alone I want to sit and watch all my favorite films. I want to brew the biggest cup of coffee and get lost in someone else’s beautifully directed film. Get lost in dialogue and be mesmerized by the cinematography of a film. For the past couple of days, I have had an urge to watch Anton Corbijn’s film “Control”. For anyone that has never seen the film it’s a beautifully directed film from beginning to end about the tragic life of Ian Curtis (lead singer of the band, Joy Division). When I am feeling upset, I think about the black and white imagery and get lost in the music. Its part biography, part music video, all parts visually beautiful. I tend to think about this film, more than I should. You could almost feel the loneliness through the film. Feel the moodiness and distress feeling of sadness throughout the whole film. It makes you want to reach out your hands to the characters and tell them you understand how they are feeling. I get lost in this film. I get lost in the moments, the music, the dialogue, and the characters. It makes you wonder that when you’re feeling depressed if your life comes out beautifully orchestrated. If the colors of your emotions come out vividly in black and white.

I could go on and on about this film. About how this film makes me feel, what emotions it brings out of me. I could say all the key scenes and how the music intertwines with the film. I could go on about certain scenes and how perfectly vivid it comes out on the screen. But doing so only kills the magic. You almost forget how upset you are putting your mind on something else. Focusing all your energy into something you love that brings forth all these feelings. This feeling that in this moment you share something between yourself and the film director, that no one else understands. Its in that moment you don’t care about anything else but that moment. It’s all you could ever ask for in the day. I took advantage of my emptiness and open space. Reached out to the spaces and kept myself together with a good film and equally amazing cup of coffee.

I know I shouldn’t be by myself, that I should be speaking to a million people about how I feel. Some days, I just want to tell the whole world how I feel. Tell everyone every single feeling I harbor inside. I wouldn’t know where to start, I wouldn’t know how to form the words to explain whats is going on in my mind. For a moment I had a break from myself and at this current time, it’s the only thing that matters.

For now.