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Waiting Days

Some days are better days, some days are worse days. This has been going on for about a month now, it’s never been this long or this bad. But there are different days and not every day is necessarily bad; there can be better days, or good moments even during the bad days. I’ve cried but I’ve smiled and laughed too and that’s part of what makes this bearable. Some days are roller-coasters where I can be happy in one instant and devastated in the next. One thing people might not know though is that some days are just waiting days.

Some days you wake up and you know you’re not going to do anything, sometimes out of a lack of will or motivation, but also sometimes out of choice. Sometimes you just don’t know what to do so you just focus on staying quiet and calm even if that means lying in bed all day. Or you could want to give people a rest, you could be feeling like you’re bothering the world with this and you don’t want to bother… so you waste a day, because you feel like the world is better off without you. It could also be that you don’t or no longer know who to turn to, so instead of burdening or frightening someone you’d rather contain it so at least you’re the only person it hurts. Or at least you hope so, because you can never know how other people are feeling. For me I guess the reason is a bit of everything. So I just move around, usually with music or watching a series to distract me from the deeper thoughts because I’d rather not hear them right now.

It’s sad, I think, how feelings other than “like” or “don’t like” quickly become taboo. How people are afraid of love or depression. Those are things rarely talked about in real life, things kept hushed because strong feelings scare people away. We’ve come to a point where emotion is weakness. When my friends see me mentally unwell most of them just ignore me, are they embarrassed? Are they afraid I’ll drag them down where I am? Or are they just afraid I might break if they touched me? They must know that isolation is a bad thing for me if I’m depressed but they isolate me anyway. No-one prepares you for this: they don’t prepare you for depression and they don’t prepare you for handling people or friends who could be depressed. Maybe something could be done, at school maybe, to talk about feelings instead of making children suppress them. I don’t know.

I’ve thought about dying. And yeah I know that’s not something you’re supposed to say but it’s true. I’ve never completely wanted to die, because I know to some extent what that could do to certain people. So I’ll stay alive to protect them. And I keep telling myself that it’ll get better, it has to, I can’t live like this forever and besides it always gets better. I try to hold on to that hope as much as I can. And I’m trying to be less harsh on myself, the depression is doing more than enough about that. I haven’t tried dying, and I’m hesitant to add “yet” at the end of that phrase, I can’t know what will happen, I can only hope I’ll stay strong enough for it to never happen. I don’t want to die. But sometimes it can be hard to want to live too. It tears me apart, mainly at night, it reminds me of all the times I’ve been rejected, all the bad things said about me, how people must feel about me, all the mistakes I’ve made and I feel like the world would be better off without me and it hurts. It hurts so much. I try to fight it, find counter-examples, but mostly I just try to make it stop because at the time I know that I can’t find enough examples to win. And then I think of what would happen if I died, and I see it happening to the people I love, the tearing apart, and I think “I can endure this for them”, because I don’t want them to feel this pain, ever.

People can be quick to tell you what’s wrong, to tell you off for some mistake you made or yell at you because they misunderstood your actions, people are better at accusing and blaming and insulting than telling others they love them. So it can be hard, when no-one tells you they love you and you have all these voices in your head, and outside of it, telling you what’s wrong with you. People take love for granted, but sometimes we need to hear that we are loved. If someone told me that, I might feel a little better, it could help fight all the bad things. But no-one tells me, because those who love me just take it for granted, they figure I don’t need reminding, but I can feel myself slipping and I’m desperately trying to hold on to anything, and everyone seems to be pulling away. If I just let go now, who would catch me in my fall?

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Posted by on 17 February 2017 in Banzaï

 

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