Issuu

You’re Not Alone In Feeling This Way

Trigger Warning!! This novelette contains themes of self harm, suicidal ideation, dark themes, emotional abuse & religious trauma.

To my brother, and my dear friend. Thank you, for guiding me through this life. You have always been that hand, That shining light. Ever since I could remember, You have been the one to give me hope. To be a good reason to wake up after rest. I remember crying in our mother’s lap, Asking for when you would be returning home again. Ever since I was young and didn’t know anything about the world. You have always been someone I could go home to. So thank you, for being there. Thank you for being yourself, and for being a good role model to aspire to. You’re one of the reasons I am still here today. Thank you. I love you. Never stop being you.

The desire to feel understood is just as important as feeling loved.

Oh how I wish little me could feel the way I feel now. I want her to know that she no longer has to be scared of going home. Her home is now actually a safe place. With no yelling … …and a cat. No more memorising footsteps, even though it’s still a habit. Not as many nights to cry herself to sleep. I wish I could console her and promise how much better everything will be. Just please, wait a little bit longer and don’t give up. I hold her hands tightly as I think to myself.

“Everything would have been a lot easier, if I had just given up.”

Mind you, I don’t actually want to give up.

I am just so exhausted from having to fight against it. “Against what?” “I don’t know …” But it sucks. And it is so painful.

Imagine being told from the ripe age of 12, everything your parents would have been doing if you didn’t exist. “I had all these plans” “I never got to see the things I wanted to see”. “I would have done it all differently..” There is nothing quite like begging one parent for protection from the other, looking into their eyes, and watching them do nothing to help you. Looking back I can remember the sadness in their eyes, the helplessness they must have felt. I don’t think I blame them anymore, no one could have prepared you for such wickedness. They did try to fix it after the fact. Giving hugs, saying that everything is going to be okay. But that’s the first time I remember feeling absolutely nothing. There’s nothing I can do to fix this. To fix me. I started believing that I was the problem, from what I knew at the time, it wasn’t happening to anyone else around me. At the ripe age of 12 years old, I made a promise to myself.

If I ever decide to have children, and if I ever turn out to become like that, i promise I will kill myself. Because from personal experience. I wished that I had never been born. I would never have had to experience this if I weren’t.

I rarely felt safe as a child. I can’t remember when I started gaining consciousness of the world around me. But what I do remember is the shame and embarrassment that I used to feel. I didn’t know it at the time, but the word “torment” is how I would describe the life I was living in my adolescence years. Asking people repeatedly to stop teasing and abandoning you, only to have it then be said louder and more prominent. I felt shamed and guilt-ridden for trying to set boundaries. The space that was supposed to be safe and comfortable turned into dangerous territory. And the space outside of the home also felt to be a danger. Bullied inside and outside of the home. No wonder I felt so safe in the arms of people who said they cared for me. It felt like a rarity. It didn’t really matter if the words were true or not. Or if it ended in us hurting each other. I would like to imagine that we both got a small reprieve,

From our own little circles of hell.

“I know I may have been a bad parent, But if I hadn’t done what I had done, You both wouldn’t be who you are today.” I don’t want to be who I am today. I would have rathered a childhood filled with hope, not terror. Sure, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I could have been who I was meant to be.

Having all your ideas and opinions crushed as a child, does wonders for your self esteem. You do just learn and try to be “the perfect daughter”, calculating everything you’re saying. Deciding what to, and what not to say. To try and avoid the most conflict. I truly believed when I was young, That I was the person that had to make mistakes, so then everyone could look and learn not to do them. I am still scared shitless of conflict, and try to avoid it at all costs. But sometime, somewhere, a flip switched. It felt like I had truly seen myself for the first time. I had truly seen my environment for the first time.

I hate writing about you. Which seems awfully ironic. It feels as though I am pouring my heart and soul. Into words that you will never truly hear. I remember you disagreeing with me. Laughing at me, because you thought my opinions were ridiculous. In some cases, I know that you still do. Which is fine. It’s normal for parents and children to not get along. To not always have the same core values and ideals. That’s the joy of growing and becoming your own person.

But I think, There is a difference. When you make your youngest daughter,

Feel as though, Killing herself is her only option. To feel alive again.

I remember being confused as to what being a christian really meant. Especially when I was trying so hard to be that. I chose to not open up because I wanted to be perceived as “the perfect daughter.” Hearing you talk openly, negatively, about others that seem close to you. Made me terrified of ever being the same. I remember getting taught certain things at school, And then coming home to a different lesson. No matter how contradicting it all seemed I tried to make it make sense in my head. “I’m the only one that’s seeing this.” “I think that I must be the problem.” I’m sorry, I don’t know why I am thinking about you this way. You would never try to hurt me. Even though … It was almost like clockwork, That tightening in my chest and that voice in the back of my head. “It’s about to happen again.”

The older I got, of course the more cynical I became. But even then I would like to believe that I come across as an optimistic, hopeful and happy person. That is what I try to be. Because if I wasn’t, there would be no reason for me to live. When I couldn’t stand up on my own, I became obsessed with finding out “the reason” as to why I must stay alive. Because, being suicidal isn’t actually having the desire to die. It’s having the desire to feel better, to feel anything. Death, pain and dying are all feelings. and I just wanted to feel better. I started clinging onto other people, making them my lifeline. Trying to help other people feel better about their lives felt like something within my control. If I can just make one person’s day better, then maybe, I do deserve the chance to exist after all.

Out of habit I liked to tell myself that I was an asshole. I have a drawer full of sticky notes and journal entries documenting all the things I had been called from both inside and outside the house. I have a hard time remembering things if I don’t write them down. And I wanted to remember exactly what I am, so that I could treat myself accordingly. Never get too confident within myself. To this day that drawer still exists, it’s my “memories box”. It has all the things I had been given too, from boys and crushes. Because to me, it’s all the same.

I remember when people started to be put off by my constant optimism. I didn’t know what to do. It felt like my facade was breaking.

“If only you were a dog, Then that way somebody out there could actually love you.” He puts his arms around me and hugs me from behind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that you were so sensitive.”

It’s funny isn’t it, How some people have that desire to kill others? Metaphorically and mentally, Of course. However, my first instincts have always been, “I have gone through so much pain, why would I want to incur that on others?” This train of thought caused me to be overly kind. A doormat, if you wish. I let myself be naive, I tried to stay optimistic, Trying to make others happy and feel better. All because, I never want anyone else to feel the pain I have felt. It’s easier to pretend that everyone has also felt this way in life, at one point or another. I, At some points though, would take this thinking too far.

And would get mad or upset when no one could bother to understand me… ***

Wanting to kill yourself and “end it all” has nothing to do with wanting to kill yourself. It has all to do with the pain and emotions you have to deal with everyday. “But everyone has to deal with those.” “I know.”

Why do I have to find this more difficult than everyone else…

My therapist laughed and said “wow, you are funny” when I laughed off being suicidal. “We’re just old friends” I say. It’s like one of those friends that you don’t have the heart to cut ties with. Even though you aren’t compatible anymore. “It’s more comforting for us to be together”. “I don’t know what I would do without them.”

I can’t remember the last time my name didn’t feel like a mask. I in a sense feel half dead and half alive. And I am now left with figments and fragments of who I think I’m supposed to be.

Am I supposed to know who I am?

My heart feels like it’s hurting, being tugged in all different directions. Part/s of me wishes I could see the future. Or at least play my life like it’s a game. See all the different options and outcomes. Choose which one I like best. Life right now feels too structured. Too black and white. I just want to know which one is more.

Too wrong or too right.

You make me feel so seen, in a world where I am never seen. My name feels more like a character and this point, and I am just trying to play the part. I still remember the first compliments you gave me. “Your personality is so charming.” My heart skipped a beat. I think that’s when it started. It was the first time I truly felt seen for me.

For what seems like the first time in my life I am not crying on my birthday. I am so happy. I had no idea how good happiness could feel.

I can’t believe that all this time, It was never real. I had so much hope which just makes me more confused. I am upset. But surprisingly not angry. Just upset. A crisis they say. Haha thanks. I thought that I was over it, Or starting too. Talking about it made things worse. I’m not angry. Not sad per say. I am just

nothing… ….apathetic.

I hate how quickly my mind and moods can change from day to day.

I wish I could make this up.

Am I doing this to myself or does everyone go through life like this?

There are days where I feel so apathetic that it’s exhausting.

I desperately want to do something and to enjoy it.

Even when I am forcing myself to do the things I normally enjoy.

I feel completely nothing. I want to enjoy my days.

I don’t want to feel like I am wasting time. Yes. Physically, I am resting.

Mentally, I am exhausted. Thinking about all the things I would like to be doing. But being unable to do them. As if a thousand feathers are laid on-top of me. Unable to get up. But please. Don’t feel sorry for me. I now know, It’s not happening for other’s attention. Even if that’s so. I’m scared. What if I am making up everything in my head? I know I’m not. Everyone says I’m not.

But what if I am?

I didn't expect it to be all but poetry. But here we are. With nothing… …But poetry.

I wish that I could always feel as calm as this. Noticing the breeze flowing through the leaves. The smell of coffee. Along with the taste of a burnt tongue. I enjoy taking the lens away and putting down my headphones. But the price I have to pay to experience this feeling. Is it even worth it?? Depression and sadness have been my guardian angel within this expansive life. Shutting them off altogether, I know. Isn't an option. And neither would I ever want it to be…

I find it hard to retrace to a time when I wasn't…

Surviving for my life…

My mantra for the new year is to: “Focus on the present, and don't worry about the past. …Or the future.” I am obsessed with the future. It's as if I can’t appreciate what's right in front of me. I always need more. I always want more. I blame my Christian upbringing for this addiction. Why live for you now? When you can live for the you, in the afterlife? Because it's too scary to consider where you will be, if you don't.

Feeling apathy and boredom are two completely different things. Boredom isn’t a constant, it feels like I am able to do something about it. Boredom, you can fix. While apathy is the same feeling as peeling off your own skin, and then getting frustrated when it’s not a clean cut. You can try so hard mentally, but it’s impossible to physically move. No matter how much you want to do something and fix it. It’s the feeling of being trapped inside your own body.

In hindsight, most things are better than you think they are. It always feels like it’s my fault. It’s in my genes to find a fault within everything. Wanting everything to be perfect is probably more of a problem. You’ll never be happy that way. Maybe one day I will feel truly happy. Even though I do everything “right”. Journaling. Gratitude. Therapy. Boundaries. It would have been easier if I had never been born. Ever since I was capable of critical thought. I truly, have, believed that.

I keep seeing other couples getting married.

Why am I not being granted that same privilege? I heavily desire to be married.

I heavily desire to feel wanted.

To feel wanted so badly from someone that they want to make the promise of spending the rest of their life with me.

I think that somehow, I just need to let it go.

As I might actually, be the problem.

If only I wasn't such a jealous person ….

Imagine being the reason that the room goes quiet. Everyone’s all up in laughter until you walk in. You aren’t exactly sure of the reason. You even ask, “Have I done anything wrong?” Everyone always replies, “no no it’s not you.” Then what is it? Where should I be standing? How should I dress? Who and how do I love? What needs to change? It’s a taxing feeling, being the reason why the others leave the room. This is why I enjoy being alone. I never have to wonder “what have I done wrong?”

Trying to get everyone to like your presence is exhausting and, unfortunately, impossible. Especially when it’s by people you admire. But no matter what, How many years that go by, Interests and moments have been shared. Not everyone will ever like you. Which is not a bad reality.

I wish I didn’t care so much. I wish that could be my reality.

***

The idea of who I want to be changes so rapidly. I pick a goal, stick to it for a week and then get the desire to change my whole identity. I’m sure it’s normal. But at those moments when I can’t figure out what I want to do and who I want to be. It feels like my soul is dying. Nothing I try to fix is helping. Living everyday with something dying inside of you constantly isn’t prone to making you feel good. I question, “what’s the point, Aren’t I already a failure?” If I can’t even commit to making myself feel good from day to day.

I can barely take care of myself.

I can barely get out of bed most mornings. Yes physically, I am able. But mentally, my spirit seems to lie in bed all day, I feel as if I am nothing but a shell. I desperately want to be happy. I feel as though I am wasting my time. I want to fix everything in and around me. I don’t want to be that kind of person. I just desperately desire to be seen. I am scared that I will never be satisfied. I wish it didn’t have to be all up to me, to fix myself.

I am the problem. Not me literally. But my soul. All it wants is to be freed.

Don’t shrink yourself so small for people who don’t even care about you.

It’s easier said than done, I am sure.

I want so heavily to be liked, loved and adored by everyone.

How selfish is that of me? Some people think they deserve the world because of a rough upbringing.

They get all the free passes because, They have been through “so much”. Regardless, of whether they have tried to fix their own problems. There’s this sense of unpleasantness, grief and pretentiousness. Some people are just entitled to hurt other people. That is what normally happens, isn’t it? When something bad happens to you. You are allowed to pass on that pain to someone else.

It’s the classic circle of life. This means one day, it will finally make sense, As to why all this pain happened to me. I will find someone whom I can tarnish, put down and abuse. Because you know, Isn’t that what life is all about?

***

Every time I hear the neighbours yelling outside, I get the urge to close my doors and to hide in the room I am within. It doesn’t happen very often, Maybe once a month. Or every three weeks. I get the urge to lock my doors just to make sure I am safe inside. I think secretly deep down, my body still doesn’t feel safe. I am so privileged to be able to leave that environment. So why doesn’t my mind and body realise that? Maybe being constantly not emotionally understood and perceived is how my life is supposed to be. You know, one of those people who teaches you what not to do. I try to be so grateful, But I can't help feeling scared, What if that life finds me again? I already feel so powerless, There’s nothing stopping me from destroying my own life. It makes me cry to think, That their own children also have to listen.

I desperately want to do anything. I wake up everyday with such a strong desire to do so many things. I don’t know if it’s actually depression. Or just pure laziness. But it seems though there’s nothing I can force myself to do. I desire to draw, paint and travel. There are so many games that I wish to start and finish playing. But god wouldn’t it be nice, To actually be able to do all the things I want to do. I don’t think anyone can be as lazy as me.

I want to be loved so much, that you can’t remember your life without me. I want to feel wanted so much, that you can’t imagine your life without me. Not just with words, But with actions as well. I don’t know if I am delusional, Maybe I should just wait a little longer. I remember you telling me that the romance I want is irrational and obsessional. Something that’s not real. But I swear I keep seeing that happiness in the eyes of other people. Yes, I have a bad habit of comparing. Yes, I have a bad habit of feeling envious. But I can’t help but feel, That I am supposed to feel more loved than this.

I think I tie my self-worth to other people.

There are just certain periods of time, As if I am more prone to being a terrible person.

Then I start obsessing over a person. Or people. It’s not supposed to be romantic.

I just start liking the version of them that’s in my head.

So much that I can’t help but want to be liked by them too.

Some people would just call these emotions “wanting friends.” Which, yes, I also crave. But friends don’t obsess over the other as if their life depended on it.

It’s one of the many reasons why I believed I was a terrible person.

To know that someone expects so much of you,

It can be a death sentence.

It’s probably the reason why close friends need space from me.

It just becomes too weird.

It’s as if I need them.

I just need a reason,

To have the will to live.

Maybe it’s normal and okay not to be happy all the time. I get this feeling almost every day, imagining how else my life could look. I am worried that I will never be satisfied. As it feels as there is always something, That needs to be fixed.

That something is probably me.

I am really sick of being depressed. It’s so tiring being sad all of the time. I don’t have a desire to do anything… I have to beg myself to get up and do small things. Everything I used to enjoy, I now have to force myself into doing. When I try to do something new, I find it too overwhelming. It’s as if my senses have more control over me than I do. I wake up everyday with no feeling of purpose. I just have this feeling of guilt from, “not doing anything.” But these things I am telling myself, they aren’t true. I do so much everyday that my battery keeps running low. Like getting out of bed. Making myself some food. Going to work. Okay, I think I am done for today.

I feel guilty for not feeling happy. There is nothing wrong in my life, I have my basic needs met. And warm clothes to wear. But I still can’t help but feel unsatisfied. A loathing for life. I don’t want to die per say. I just want to feel anything but nothing. I worry that’s why I am so defensive. It feels as though everyone secretly hates me. How selfish is that? I feel truly grateful for everything that I have. I am one privileged child of God. So, Why can’t it be enough? I want to be able to enjoy my life again. And have enough energy for my basic chores.

Picturing the human soul as a collection of cells is the most accurate way to depict it. There are many different parts to being a person. That just saying “me” or “I” is too disingenuous. There is no such thing as “I” think this and “I” want to do that. It’s more, “this part of me desires this, whilst another part desires something completely different.” It’s important to find the middle ground of these two worlds and people. Only when we have the habit of seeing ourselves as more than just the one person, can we start living more harmoniously within ourselves. Hence suppressing our desires and forcing ourselves to fit into a lifestyle we know deep down isn’t right. Is doing a huge disservice to you and your system.

I sometimes feel as though I am a failure. I know that realistically and logically, I am anything but. That there is no such thing as “failing.” Like yes, you can fail things in life such as, An exam or your driving test. But that doesn’t mean you have failed exactly. Because you tried, And as long as you keep trying with this little existence called life. You can never fail. No choice we make in life is either right or wrong. So we need to stop putting the pressure of being perfect onto ourselves. Because perfect doesn’t exist. There is just us. Me. And you.

I would very much like to feel happy again. It’s so cliche but it feels as if I am walking through a haze in my own mind. I try to fight it, Try to bargain with it. But it doesn’t seem to want to separate from its host. I don’t hate that it’s there. I just wish that I could make this feeling seem a little less. Hopeless. If I was unaware and ignorant of my privilege, it might actually be easier. Knowing logically that I am better off than most people. But that I am still feeling this way, Towards myself and towards life. It makes it feel as though it’s my fault. That I am the reason I am this way. That I am lazy and selfish. That I don’t deserve to be here.

Again, logically, realistically, emotionally, I know that that isn’t the case. But at least it would give me a reason as to why, I am allowed to suffer in this way. ***

I hate being perceived. It’s so scary, To have your value as a human being, being constantly judged. By friends, family By the people in my head. I know that none of this is real. And that none of this matters. It’s so funny to say I hate being perceived. When all I crave as a human is to be seen. To emotionally connect, and be understood. I want to be able to be vulnerable, And not be chastised for doing so. Because in reality, None of this matters.

Nothing that happens in this world matters. How can I get everything in my head to stop feeling like it matters? … Does it matter? Does anything matter??

***

Everything I want is just a fairy tale. Why would anyone actually like me? I want to go home. I feel so exhausted. Pretending to be okay all of the time. I just want someone to look after me, And to tell me that everything will be alright. I don’t want to worry about money. I don’t want to worry about bills. I want to feel like I actually belong somewhere, And that people do like me. I don’t want to exist anymore. I just want to go back to sleep.

I feel so paralyzed. There are too many thoughts in my head. There are too many things I would like to do.

But I never seem to have the energy to do any of them….

As someone with low self-esteem, doing anything feels impossible. Because no matter what I do or how I do it. Or if I am confident I know the answer. I won’t trust myself to follow through the process. If I can’t trust myself, and put all of my internal hope and validation into other people. How can I actually decide what I want to do with my time? Is it even worth living through my time?? Maybe it’s not.

I wonder if I will ever feel truly satisfied in life. In all aspects, I mean. Why can’t I just listen to myself, And hear what my heart is telling me. I don’t know what I truly want. Which is normal. But when will I escape this hell of not making a decision? I am too scared to trust myself, I am terrified of making the wrong decisions. I know logically there is no such thing, But how can a girl that is too afraid to live,

Be trusted to make the right choices.

I hate the constant need for comparison. I am a very jealous person, It is not hard at all, To think that my life isn’t worth living. It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks of you. Don’t just follow the curve, Because that is what everyone else is doing. You’re young, You have time. Please let yourself have more time.

I woke up today having the first nightmare of you in a while. It’s been so long that it really made me realise the trauma you have given me. You weren’t screaming at me, But you may as well have been. I was stuck in a room full of people, Trying to prove myself to you. Prove to you that I am worthy. Worthy of being loved and accepted.

Of being supported. I still feel myself trying to get to you, Every single day. While I have grown, and now understand, That you are no longer this person. This person still lives in my dreams, haunting me.

Telling me that everything is my fault. And if I just hadn’t been born, My mum could have been happier. I even. I would have been happier.

***

I find it much harder to write when I am not feeling sad or depressed. Writing for me, is a form of therapy, a way to process my emotions. Without being too confronted by them. I sometimes have a hard time realising and thinking that my life is my real and only life. Similar to playing video games, I like to restart them whenever things get too hard or I get lost. I get to choose a whole new backstory, childhood, career, romantic interests. I think I do this so I can take back the feeling of being in control and knowing what I want to do. A restart button. This restart button plays in my head at least once, daily. Me walking up to a big oak tree, on top of a hill and no one in sight. Splashes of orange, pink and yellow dance around the tree. The sun sets as I begin my descent away from this plane, This place, these thoughts,

My emotions, my memories, My background, my work, My education, and upbringing, It all swings away, I am content, I feel as though, I can start again. Maybe this time will be the time, Where I can feel truly loved. By my family, by my friends, By my colleagues, By myself. So here I will wait, Swinging silently under the tree, On a big rope swing, Hoping one day,

Someday. That someone will notice me hanging there, And let me down from the tree.

***

I am feeling hopeful. For the first time in a while. I am feeling as if I am in control of my own body again. I love this feeling. I don’t understand why I don’t feel this good everyday. But maybe, that’s okay. It’s not our daily job to understand, It’s our job to be kind to ourselves, To be passionate about life. To allow ourselves, to want to live.

I have felt pretty alone most of my life, So I hope these anecdotes can help just one person, Feel less alone, for one second.

You're Not Alone In Feeling This Way