I believe in radical honesty. I haven’t been radically honest. I am struggling and I am struggling hard. I haven’t been in this place in a long time. I haven’t struggled to live like this in a long time. It’s been 6 years since I last self-harmed – 2015. The last time before that was 2008. I spent much of my teen and young adult years self-harming. I always had an explanation for what those cuts were. How I got them. Where the scars came from. All lies, of course. I’m not in a place where I want to self-harm, but I fear if I continue to feel the way I feel I could end up there. And that scares me.
I don’t what happened. Stress? I have been content with my life for some years now. I have worked hard to grow, change, move forward. I have put in more work on myself than I have anything in life. I have grown. Yet, here I am. I am back in that space. Back in that place. A place I have become so unfamiliar with that I don’t know how to pull myself out of it. I don’t what has led me back here. I don’t know why I was unable to handle whatever it was. I don’t like this place. It’s not as easy as, “just be happy.” I am not unhappy with my life. My life is beautifully boring. It is everything that I have created it to be and still I am not happy.
I am struggling with this life and you would never know it had I not written it. I am the funny person. The one that makes others laugh and gives advice while I break into pieces internally. No one knows how hard it is to get out of bed each day. How hard it is to function. I am tired. Exhausted. Drained. There isn’t much left for the world or me once I get home. I have no energy. I want to do nothing. I want to sleep. I fight. I fight with myself internally. I keep making people laugh though. I keep on keeping on, because that’s what I am supposed to do. And it’s becoming harder as each day passes.
I am struggling to live this life. I would not take my own life. My brother did that and it almost killed all of us. I wouldn’t put my family through that. That is the only reason. I could not do that to my family. I have been in much more despair than I am in now and made it through. All my years of therapy are in play here; otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t know how to reach out or ask for help. That’s not me. I am a silent struggler. I do it on my own. I don’t reach out. I did reach out to my therapist today only to just be difficult about the whole situation. Ill adaptive coping responses completely in play there. I will reach out again.
I just needed to say it…write it…I AM STRUGGLING. I want to die. NO I am NOT suicidal. I am tired. I hear something not long ago about secondary suicide. IT’s basically wanting to die but not killing yourself so you just fall into a despair. I have never related to something so much. I am there.
wanderingmindmindlesswandering 