Reverting back does not prevail

Yesterday was a rough one for me. I hadn’t slept well the night prior and my mood was beyond foul. My depression had returned with a vengeance. On top of that, work was full of annoying, trivial issues that wouldn’t have gotten to me on a normal day but I was experiencing unnecessary anger. I tried to keep myself focused on positive thoughts to ease the irritation that continued to build.

As the day carried on I was craving a cigarette badly. I couldn’t stand that familiar feeling of hovering gloom; my skin felt like it was crawling. The desperation for relief was real and I was determined to get that cigarette to help calm me down.

I felt the same the rest of the day until I made my way home.

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Credit: Ehimetalor Unuabona

I made a mental note as I drove by the bodega near my house that I could buy a loosey, since I only wanted one cigarette versus a pack. The downside was the price went up from $.50 to $1, per loosey. I was genuinely contemplating it.

Once I made it home and thought it over, I told myself to wait before walking to the bodega. I had cooking and cleaning to do, so with my mind made up, I opted to do those things before heading out. I was determined to get everything done in order to leave. That was the deal I made with myself.

After completing my tasks I immediately jumped into my workouts.

By the time I finished, I made my honey lavender tea and felt a hell of a lot better. It was the best I felt that entire day.

After taking my shower, I settled in and got into bed. It was then that I realized I never went out to get my cigarette. Instead of reverting back to my old habits of smoking to escape, I went along with my new, healthier methods and they prevailed.

I need to remember for future matters that just because I was feeling desperate to ease the frustration doesn’t mean I have to throw myself back into old practices. I am moving forward with healthier approaches that are clearly proving to be helpful. Why subject myself to going backward? That’s pretty thoughtless.

Today I can say I am almost two weeks cigarette free.

Oh, and I didn’t waste a dollar!

 

Gratitude for the past

I have a lot of personal issues I am working through with a therapist due to an abundance of factors in my past. I try to tell myself to leave the negative portions of my

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Credit: Júnior Ferreira

past where it belongs, then thoughts of said moments make me slip into a downward spiral of depression and terrible choices. It wasn’t until recently that I made the decision

to put my foot down and not allow these things to control me. I had to remind myself whether the moments of my past were good or bad, it still led me to where I am in this moment and I should feel some gratitude for that.

Sure, I can feel a certain way about things and get help from my therapist on how to address my feelings in a healthier manner, but I can’t disregard those damaging moments altogether either. Instead of burying the bad, or hiding from it, I can use those moments as learning experiences for how to handle difficult situations in the future.

Why be a victim of the past when the future can be dominated?

 

 

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.

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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.

 

Day 4: Cigarette Free

It has been four days since I’ve had a cigarette. The rougher parts are passing, hopefully. As expected, I’m still craving them and I’m more irritable than usual. I’m feeling myself becoming more secluded so I can avoid releasing all this aggression onto someone who doesn’t deserve it. Just because I’m not letting the chemical doused tobacco destroy my lungs anymore doesn’t give me the right to be an asshole. I will say this; I forgot how much of a challenge it is not having the crutch of a cigarette when things are difficult to deal with.

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Credit: Luther Bottrill

I have to stick to the positives. My breathing feels a hell of a lot better. I don’t feel like I have additional weight on my chest and I haven’t been randomly coughing. No longer having the disgusting cigarette smell on my fingers and clothes are a huge bonus.

I really can’t pick this habit back up, again. I say it every few years, but I need to make the effort to stick to it this time around. The statistics are there, the horror stories are there, the death count is there, the personal problems I’ve encountered from smoking were clearly there to sway me from ever picking one up again.

…stupid addictions…

On Full Display

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I have no bed sheets on my mattress. Clean and dirty clothes are scattered throughout my bedroom. It feels like I haven’t slept in days. After ten minutes of cleaning, I had to stop. The mental exhaustion was setting in. It was 9:50AM when I finished the three fingers of pinot Grigio. Not even a cigarette helped to soothe me. Even the thought of taking a shower makes my body ache. The numbness is becoming all consuming. I feel like a scared, lonely child, sinking deeper into the darkness. All I want to do a sleep, but that’s only a quick fix. Now I just want to leave my house and disappear with nothing but the tank top on my back. This is my depression talking, it’s on full display. It thrives in turning me into this weak, little bitch, wallowing in random sorrow. I’ll fight it again, but for now I’ll take the L. I need to sleep. Even if it’s for an hour. I need some kind of relief.