I guess it’s time to come back here.
I have this blog mainly to deal with my mental health and I had been relatively okay, so I hadn’t needed to blog. I even started studying again. I’m studying physics and I have the highest marks so far. I love it and I’m good at it.
However I’m starting to feel the way I did before. Again. I can’t tell exactly when it began coming back, it was progressive. Feeling more tired than usual. I figured it was just stress and general tiredness. With the exhaustion came the thoughts. I don’t know what happened later but now I’m in the middle of a freaking tornado.
I can’t afford resting and waiting until the storm passes. I have a million things to do, and everyday I’m falling farther behind. I have reports to turn in tomorrow, classes to go to, an exam on Thursday. Everything is moving fast and I’m lagging behind. I stay still for extended lengths of time, my mind comatose.
My mind is different than it was when I started studying. It’s slower, less willing to do things. It’s like moving through molasses. I already know what I can do when in recovery, and I’m losing it again and it’s unbearable. Once again I begin thinking what’s the point. There’s no point to anything. I can’t be sick again. I can’t be disabled again.
I feel like yelling at people in the streets, telling them I’m drowning and how unfair it is. How can everyone just keep living when I’m like this? Why do they pass me by like nothing is happening when I’m clearly dying? Then I realize that from the outside, I look OK. No screaming, no rotting, no bleeding, no exposed bones, not even a band aid.
The only ‘evidence’ are a couple of cryptically desperate posts on Facebook. In English, so the majority of my contacts who speak Spanish can’t even read. I wouldn’t dare post any of this in Spanish. It feels too exposing. I don’t really talk to people. What can they do? Not even the professionals can really help me. The psychiatrist would attempt to change my medication. Effects that may or may not happen, weeks away from now. I can’t afford losing so much time. I can’t afford any of this!
I don’t know where to run now.
She’s in my dreams, she won’t go away. Dreams where we make up and become friends again. Dreams of happiness and relief. Dreams that won’t come true, because I chose it that way. Guilty reality: I was the one who shut her off. She hurt me, but I believe she never even noticed it. I hurt her, too. There may be a chance she actually hates me by now. And I wish I could go back in time to stop myself from walking up to her that day I decided to become her friend. I remember it clearly. I want to get rid of the memories of pain and guilt.
I think about it a lot, going back in time. It means I have many regrets and I’m plagued by them. I don’t like it, but before I know it, I’m taking another mental trip to the past. My favourite past time. Changing things, entertaining myself with the imaginary results. A better life, fixing mistakes. Life feels dirty with mistakes permanently engraved in it.
Have I been playing too many video games during my life? The illusion of of restarting with the knowledge and skill required to acquire a perfect score.
A perfect score.
What for, anyway? Who am I competing against?
Is it because I have only one life and it’s really short?
Mortality. It also haunts me all the time. Eternal anxiety for getting as much as possible done during this life. To make something that counts, an impact in the world. That seems like the only thing that would make my short existence worth it. Create something unique. Something that nobody else would be able to do. Justify my existence.
I don’t know if it’s anxiety, nostalgia, confusion or I’m just not doing as well as I seemed to have been doing lately.
I’m stuck looking at the past, worrying if I’ve made the right choice. Picturing myself in the future. Picturing myself in the past. Fantasizing about things that never happened and should have happened. Going back in time and changing things which means regret. Erasing parts of my life and adding others. Changing things so I would not be in the place I am now.
The could have been‘s.
My self esteem has also plummeted. It’s not only my looks, it’s myself as a person. I’ve been feeling unworthy, uninteresting, average, a failure.
Mediocre. Not good at anything in the end. Nothing outstanding to give the world, therefore, why am I even here?
10 years gone to the drain? a big portion of my life. I cannot get it back. I cannot change it. I cannot restart the game. I cannot re-roll.
This was an interesting year.
- It was the first time I ever got a surgery done on me. (My gallbladder got taken out. No, I am not keeping it in a jar. I was actually supposed to get a report from the pathologist to see if there was something wrong with it but I forgot to retrieve it. Now we’ll never know.)
- I turned a quarter of a century and I’m still in freaking denial. I CAN’T believe it. I won’t believe it. No way I’m twenty five right now, and people who see me don’t believe it either, so at least that’s good.
- I put on 30 lbs on sedentarism and medications. Especially the latter, which made me gain 20 lbs in 3 months. None of my clothes fit. I didn’t think I’d have this problem since I’ve always been towards the skinny side. People are massively surprised when they look at me now.
- Speaking of meds, I got some that seem to work (Lithium and three other kinds). Right now I don’t feel so great, but it seems like a normal mood swing and not that horrible thing from before.
- I finished my two year art course and now I’m doing paintings on my own, and hoping to sell some someday (lets see if I’m able to part from my babies). I improved greatly and learned a lot. One of the biggest things I learned was to finish what I started. No more half finished sketches under my bed. I’ve finished a few really nice paintings already.
- I made the decision of abandoning the idea of practicing medicine. It’s not for me, it’s not what I want. It never was. I was 14 when I chose this and I was wrong. I took the national university entrance exams on September and did really well, granting myself a place in a program of pure Physics. It begins on January. It’s a 4.5 year program and I’ll be 29 and a half when I finish, but I’m extremely excited. This is going to be completely different from what I’ve known so far.
- I won’t be a psychiatrist. After much thought, I realized I would be continuously triggered by my patients. And as horrible as it sounds, I want to get away from the mental health world. I’ll always know. I’ll always have the experience and will never remove it from my life even if I had the chance to, but I don’t want to be so involved anymore.
It’s hard to write in here these days.
It used to be second nature to write down my experiences. But lately they just happen.
I have news. First of all, I turned TWENTY FIVE this month, and I’m freaking out. I did not believe I’d make it to this age. And I feel both amazed that I’m still around, and really really old. My mind hasn’t updated itself to the fact that I’m an adult.
I just entered the latest half of my twenties. Somebody help me.
When I was fifteen, I was preparing to go into university for the first time. Now, ten years later, I’m repeating the process. I’m going back to school. I’m going to study something unrelated to medicine and very few people know. I don’t want to be questioned yet.
It feels like I’m too old to start something completely new, but that’s just an illusion for having done it too early the first time around. I should be okay.
I have been accepted already. I’m going through the admission process these weeks and I should be starting on January.
… of crazy hair.
It’s scary to write that I’m still better. I’m afraid to jinx it, as silly as it sounds. But I am. It’s weird to try to describe what has improved. Everything at the same time and nothing. Little microscopic floating parts perhaps. A sense of well being. Energy inside me. Restlessness that sends me into bouts of activity. Confidence and a little thing inside me that prompts me to say “I feel good”. And I do say it and people’s jaws drop. Because apparently this is not like me.
But I can’t remember. I don’t want to. I’ve been saying unfair things to people who are still depressed. Things that weren’t useful when I was depressed. I’m a massive hypocrite for it but it makes so much sense for some reason! Even though it doesn’t make any sense when you’re really down and you hear it.
I don’t want to think about the future, not yet. Let me enjoy this. If I continue like this I may be able to survive after all.