I came here with my eyes all red my nose all runny from crying. I wrote a whole paragraph about how I am done trying to put the glass shreds back together. The more I tried to piece them together the more I bled. Tears rolled down my face wetting the pillow case. I cried almost every night, with no particular reason. The hormones.
Today I realised I lack a friend. The true kind of friend, where you can stay apart from each other’s lives, but whenever you talk you can talk like you have been talking everyday. A friend to whom you can weep about how your relationship is going down the hill, all because of you. A friend to whom you can talk about your passions and your dreams and someone you can take along with you to your fictitious world. A friend who cares about how you feel and a friend about whom you care so deeply that you can’t even imagine killing yourself.
A friend to whom you don’t have to think twice about telling them how something they did or said affected you in a particular way. If you think you are responsible for someone feeling happy because of something you said, then how come when someone gets upset or sad or hurt by your words it solely becomes how they perceive what you said?
“Learn to be accountable and learn to treat people with kindness.” This is my resolution from today.
I’m not scared to die
I’m a little scared about what comes after…….– The Sad Ghost Club
All my life, I’ve wanted to love myself, accept myself. The journey so far has been on and off. Constantly trying, and giving up and sometimes even hating myself even more. While I’m writing this, I’m on another attempt. This time, I’m glad it’s an attempt to love myself not kill myself.
One positive thing I saw this time was that I have learned to ignore a few things and tried doing a lot of new things. The other day I was snapping a friend of mine. The filter was fortune cookies and all of a sudden snapchat decided to tell me how selfish I am. It said “be more generous.” Usually what happens in such a situation is that I would stare at this message for a while and pick out the instances in my life where I have acted selfishly, I would hate myself and I would weep about how horrible I am. But this time I pressed that back button and told myself that I have done enough of selfless things in my life that might have made a tiny difference in someone’s life. Today thinking about that act of kindness towards me has made me proud of myself. It made me feel like I could love myself. I can accept myself. I can be kind to myself. This has given me, somebody who thought hope is for suckers, a new kind of hope.
If you’re somebody that recognises that quote and were like ‘so true’ I want you to know that someday when the universe decides that it has been putting you through too much, it’ll shine the light on you. If you could, hang in there. I hope you hang in there because somebody is out there that is grateful for your existence.
For that one follower out there, I am grateful for your existence. thank you
It will all make sense one day.
So the other day I visited some friends of mine. They used to be those friends to whom you don’t really talk much but, you know, you’re friends. When they learned about my depression, there was this sort of misconception that people with depression don’t laugh at all, or that they rarely have fun. That is far from truth, I can laugh till I can’t breathe but that doesn’t mean I don’t have depression. ” You were laughing just minutes ago.” there is nothing else that annoys me more than this line. Yes, I can laugh. What do you expect depression to be? That I can’t laugh I’ll sit an cry all the time? NOOOO!
“Depression is a common and serious medical illness that negatively affects how you feel, the way you think and how you act.” Depression doesn’t mean I lose my sense of humour. I can joke around all day, make funny faces and talk about good memories. Everything I did before being diagnosed with clinical depression. The only difference is that, nothing matters, all you can think about even while laughing is the 101 ways to die without pain, or some bitter memories that makes you just wanna push your face into the pillow and weep.
These misconceptions and stereotypes of how people with certain illness or mental health issues should look, has choked the living sh*t out of our lives. Just because I don’t talk openly about my struggles doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. There are reasons for that too. Just because someone woke up early in the morning feeling good about themselves and decided to dress up for the day, doesn’t mean they were pretending all these time. It also doesn’t mean they are not going to go home and cry themselves to sleep. Just because things seem a particular way doesn’t mean it’s the truth.
Treat People With Kindness.
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
The world is a better place because of your kindness. Thank you
When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.