“Amazing how being bathed in arterial blood can wash out any lingering romantic disappointments.”- Diana Peterfreund
2019, you broke my heart in many ways. Most of it I’ve spent battling the hell going on inside my own mind. Just when I thought the demons were gone, they came back rushing full force. 2019 has been a year of loss. I lost my mental health. My job and the beautiful bond I had built with my student. I lost my abstinence. My pride. I lost the most precious thing for me to hold onto: my inner piece.
From perfect composure to perfect destruction, the madness in my mind took away my sanity. And yet, loving my inner child to pieces wasn’t enough for me to restore it. My mental illness is spiralling out of control and the best I can do is stare at the inevitable destruction. Caution tape wrapped all around me, it takes very little for me to break inside.
December is my least favorite month of the year. I dread Christmas. To all the people that don’t have a family or that have a dysfunctional one, my heart goes out for you. The month of December has a very sour taste in my mouth. It reminds me of extremely painful memories that I have been through 2 years ago. It reminds me of spending the holidays near the toilet, not because I was drunk, but because I was throwing up the torture I had gone through for too long.
2019 twisted the heck out of my heart, adding a few more scars to it. I relived the most dreaded fear of mine: the fear of abandonment. Suicide has been on my mind quite a lot, but the love I have for my mother stops me each time I reach this dark fucking place.
I don’t know what will save me, but at this point medication is my one and only hope. I have tried it all. Therapy. Physical activity. Meditation. Journaling. I do all these things actively. And yet i feel so fucked. I am shitless scared. I’m terrified of being in this state. I’m petrified that it won’t go away. I want my inner piece back. I want bliss back. I want my health back. That’s all I want for the rest of my life.