It’s been months at this point since I’ve written here. I was tired of pushing the page because, admittedly, I did not know what I was doing but I talked a big game. I thought I had myself figured out and, by extension, everyone else figured out. This mean world, that never extends a helping hand, that had been kicking me down, had just been in my head.
There are lot of people alive today who wished they were dead. Some of these people will feel these feelings for a little while before killing themselves. Others will be too afraid to carry it through because, for all their self-hatred, they do not want to abandon something they care for, be it a loved-one or loved-thing. Is it hope? No, but they do not want to disappoint and hurt. The bottom line is the same though; society has decided to outcast the freaks; incels, introverts and the mentally weak.
I entertained myself with these groups for years, even today, I passively will find a subreddit with stupid, relatable memes that I can laugh at, but the same users would make jokes about suicide and, while my putrid sense of humour would be engaged, would I ever consider it? And I’m not even talking about upsetting loved-ones. I think I want to stay alive and it’s because I’ve realised I’m someone who I didn’t think I was. Maybe there are more like me and I’ll further elaborate.
This crowd that I thought I was a part of; the anxious and the depressed, they live and breathe struggle. People who struggle from the severity of socially inhibiting mental illnesses have a brain that tells them they are sad and they have to obey. They sit in the movie theatre and start to panic, they wake up and start crying because they cannot help it. It is, through and through, a mental illness. I see a sad movie scene, recognise it as sad in my brain, so a message is sent to start secreting liquid from my tear ducts. Depressed people will just start crying and they will not stop, they will be sad for a long time. Anxiety can paralyse people, they will seize up and stop breathing.
I attended a set of five therapy sessions earlier this year, i had convinced myself that I need to see someone. It was telephonic, which was not the most ideal situation but I had little alternative due to my situation. I realised that I learned a lot, not from my therapist, but from how I was talking on the phone. I started these sessions because I had a job surrounded by able co-workers, who were good at their jobs, not too mention one of them being my co-worker, who was an incredibly attractive woman that I became friends with. I hated how my feeling of inferiority around girls as well as people who were good at their jobs acted up and prevented me from being my best self, so I went for the therapy. I relayed these feelings of being inferior to the therapist and there lines that were often repeated:
Maybe you need to try harder.
Do not compare your struggles to others’.
Don’t feel too anxious.
Naturally, these comments did not help at all. I realised that this woman on the phone was just reading the script, the foundation content of “being someone to talk to” but not fully being able to mould to the specific situation I was in.
So, I did something else, maybe it isn’t as groundbreaking as I make it sound but it opened my mind. I stopped listening to this woman on the phone and started listening to what I was saying. When this woman asked me why I was feeling depressed, what answers did I give? There were some things which I plan to go into full detail, these were:
- falling in love easily
- feeling like I’m bad at whatever I do
- not being able to help others how I want
- not being able to be the best version of me
- letting others down
Thanks for reading, I’m gonna spread this around. Maybe I can hear about your guy’s experiences. Also, I want to make this page professional. Any advice on layout and style would be much appreciated!