I cannot stop, I feel as if I have been hit by a bus but I cannot stop, because if I stop I’ll think about things and if I think about things I won’t be able to keep going. Is it even worth it? I feel like I am getting nowhere, my mind is in pieces and just when I think I’ve finally cracked the puzzle more pieces get dumped on top of me.
I don’t seem to fit anymore, I can’t find that passion that fuels me, I don’t know where I belong anymore. I wanted to give answers to those people who are going through similar things from my past. But I am not healthy, I don’t have answers, and I definitely do not feel better; pain is all I feel.
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I can’t believe it’s been a year since I first started this blog, it feels like no time has passed yet so many things have happened since I posted my first poem a year ago today. I have had many ups and many downs, I have fought every day against my mental health and some days I have won that particular battle.
I have taken so many steps to get better, been pushed back by events but I keep going, which is what I am going to focus on today. I get back up, after everything I’ve been through I always get back up, and today of all days I should be proud of my achievements. To some, they may look tiny but to me, every one of them feels like a giant stride.
I’m still here, still writing, and taking it one day at a time.
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Right now I am in a really bad place, it seems like no matter what I do I am hearing that anxiety voice stronger than ever, I started writing as a way to help me heal and the voice is louder here than anywhere else. It’s given me a sort of writer’s block like no other, I have about four posts sitting in my draft folder right now waiting to be finished.
I don’t have the patience or the energy right now to do any of them, this voice is here at the moment telling me no matter how much I try that it will always win the fight, even as I decorate my house it keeps telling me that no matter what I do this house will always be the one I had two miscarriages in.Read More »
I’ve been thinking about this concept for the past few days, it may have to do with my rewatch of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt in anticipation of its finale, or the much-anticipated sequel to the film, but are people really unbreakable? What does it say about us (myself included) who feel rather broken, are we to learn from those moments, should we really strive to be unbreakable?
To be honest, I would absolutely love to think of myself as unbreakable, the woman who refused to break after abuse, rape, recurrent miscarriage, and poor mental health. But I’m really not, I’ve struggled to remake my broken shell on a number of occasions, and although seeing myself as being unbreakable appeals to me very much, it also takes away from my struggle.
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This year has brought a lot of low points, like some really terrible moments where I’ve felt as if my heart has been ripped out of my chest terrible, but I thought I would instead today focus on the positive moments I had throughout last year to show, mostly to myself, that 2018 wasn’t really that bad.
I had started seeing my therapist in December 2017, but it was only a small trial session we had, but in 2018 we really truly started the work on my mental health. We don’t talk diagnosis, but instead, I can just go into her little comfy room and talk about whatever has bothered me. For the first few months, the sessions were dedicated to my abuser, but I would deflect a lot.
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This is the question I have been asking myself for a very long time, I make progress and then fail at the final hurdle and all that effort I have put in evaporates. I have run straight back into the arms of the Titan I have wrestled against my entire life and its name is Anxiety. Will I ever get better? Am I just too damaged to get through the endless battles?
Right now I would say yes, but it’s a crazy time of the year, from the middle of November I have dealt with the anniversary reaction and holiday grief, right now it just feels like I am in an endless cycle of poor mental health. It is so prevalent that I just sit in a fog of my own creation, not really present in the now.
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Happy Christmas Eve Eve as Pheobe would say, that time of year is almost upon us and I’m counting down the days until its over. I’ve wrapped all my presents, I’ve put up my decorations, and I have finally gotten the cards done. I didn’t want to do any of it, but my house is a sparkle of tinsel and fairy lights.
This year would have always been hard when you think of you’re lost children and the potential of what could have been. The older child who would know the big secret, the toddler who would be hatching a plan with the cat to pull down the tree, and the little one growing in my belly. It all seems perfect in my mind, but that’s not the picture that has been painted for me.Read More »