Torturous road trip with therapy

“Therapy would be good for you.” They said.

“Opening up will help.” They said.

“Talking to someone could be beneficial.” They said.

thinking
As I sit back and think about it, logically, I can agree due to personal experiences. There were moments when therapy was helpful to younger me and it has the potential to help again. That is if I go through the process rather than persistently hiding things. All I have to do is work through the difficult moments of my past by discussing it and learn to move on. I need to use the tools given to me to dig myself out of this grave of misery. I can get to where I need to be, in time. I need to be open to helping myself.

Again, this is me thinking of it in a logical sense.

The other, more dominant, irrational way of thinking about it leads to a rage that makes me want to quit therapy already.

I am not someone who opens up easily. Anything and everything that has ever caused me minimal or considerable amounts of emotional harm has been stored away in a vault. The vault is like my protection and it remains sealed in the back of my mind until I need to throw something else in. Not only is therapy making me open the vault to re-live the awful moments, but it’s also making me feel them, too.

feelings

I hate feeling. I find it works better not to feel.

That’s the problem. It isn’t healthy.

This is something I need to do, but I don’t know if I can handle it. This is 15-20 years of thoughts or memories I intended to keep stashed away. Right now, logic prevails. I just hope irrationality is okay with giving up the wheel on this torturous road trip that’s in store.

Rollercoaster of Bullshit

Right now I am feeling everything and nothing. From rage to total detachment; I have no idea what I’m feeling or not. The confusion I experience with this is suffocating me tighter than if a snake was wrapping itself around my neck, squeezing until the lights go out. It sounds ridiculous, right? Now, imagine going through this on a regular basis- I mean, really, how does someone not know how they are feeling? What kind of mind fuckery is that?

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Credit: Akira Hojo

I am over all this up and down, rollercoaster of emotion bullshit, but these were the cards I was dealt and now I have to fucking deal with it.

There is no such thing as “normal”, I’m aware of that, yet it is something I crave. I want to be able to wake up and have an understanding for why it is I feel the way I feel. I want to be able to do something I love without being weighed down by the mass of dismay that keeps me shackled to a bed. I want to have a real reason for the darkness.

I hate this goddamn depression and all the additional problems that arise with it. To end this dismal post, I don’t believe in suicide. (note: no need to worry about me on that front). It’s not the answer for me, and it will never be, but I fucking understand it.

 

**If you need help, or if someone you know needs help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. Lines are open 24 hours, every day, for free and confidential help.**

No Point to This

I haven’t been sleeping well (thanks insomnia), I had to put together games, make gifts by hand (glue guns are the devil) and make gift bags for a friend’s bridal shower. On top of that work has been complete shit, depression has been beating me down and that’s not including the migraines I’ve been experiencing.

I’m so mentally exhausted right now, it’s such a bitch and I feel like I’m going to explode on people soon. I feel my temper becoming so short and as much as I try to tame it, it feels as if I’m losing my grip on the reins.

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Credit: Cristian Newman

All this bullshit has not only kept me from writing and reading (I’ve been way too exhausted for the two things that really help ease my mind), but it’s making me resent everything and everyone in my life right now. I am getting pulled in different directions and I can’t catch my breath. On top of that I am always doing something for others, but when I need to think of myself and what’s best for me I somehow become the bad guy. I guess the saying is correct, if you give an inch, they’ll take a mile.

I’ve said it before and probably even wrote it somewhere around here, its okay to say ‘no’, I just can’t seem to take my own advice.

 

Anyway, I’m rambling/venting at this point. There’s no real point to this post. I simply needed to get this off my chest before I scream at work.

 

Smoking, again. I hate it.

This morning I stared at my cigarette in disgust. I could already smell the scent that was going to be stained on my fingers. Barely half of it was gone before I tossed it away. I stopped to ask myself why I was smoking, again. I guess my brain just wanted to play stupid.

It was around thirteen that I had my first cigarette. It was gross, yet still I continued. After finishing the first one I had no intention of doing it again. Then a few weeks passed. It was a rough week and when I smoked that gross chemical stick I noticed that it had made me feel better.

I smoked on and off throughout high school and college. I would stop for a few years in between because it gets expensive and the smell becomes a problem.

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Credit: Patrick Brinksma

Lately things have been rough again and I found myself back at it. Buying packs and feeling like a fiend for another. People say, “go workout” or “find something else to do”. I have, and yet it still doesn’t feel like it helps that much.

Now it’s not just something to do when things are rough, it’s also a fucking addiction. I find myself smoking when I don’t even want one.

Truthfully, I have no idea on how I should end this post. All I want to say is that I feel like such an asshole for even picking the habit back up and now I’m kicking myself because I regret it. I’ll stop again, eventually. But how long until I go back? A year? Three? Five? Fuck.

 

Website Frustration

 

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I created my website because I needed a place where I could share whatever is on my mind. What frustrates me about having a site is trying to figure out what fucking damn theme I like, how to set it up, what makedad-jokes-ughs it look good, but I can never stick with the decision I’ve made.

This isn’t much of a post, I’m just frustrated with my site right now. I don’t want to get rid of it, yet I don’t want to keep having to tweak it either. I am never satisfied with what I’ve chosen and I don’t know when I will be. All I want is to be able to write and post without having to worry about the look of my page.