The fact that anyone reads my blog other than me is quite exciting. I've always thought of it as a private diary accessible to me from anywhere. I recently threw out my handwritten diaries. I read the Japanese book on decluttering and it said that one of the ways to stay in the moment, is to stop revisiting old moments. I figure it's still helpful to have some slight reminder of how I've felt, some record that helps me remember points in my life. I hope tracking my emotions has a positive effect as well, it definitely feels like it provides me a sense of comfort to read my old blog entries from time to time.
I hit a rock bottom shortly after my last post. A deep dark place of being very suicidal. I am always scared to put that out there because of potential judgment that will happen through good google search skills, but I am going to just let go of the fear. It was scary - my friends took turns being with me so I was never alone. I had to seek serious professional help. After i inched back from the ledge, it took a long time to feel anything but awful. I slowed down my life. I picked up drawing - which may be how I should be posting now, because my amateur art tells a powerful story of my emotions. I never could draw as a kid, so the fact that I exhibited any natural talent at my age felt like a feat. But of course I took a class, which then made me feel inadequate, which undermined the whole concept of using drawing as art therapy for me.
There is something liberating about feeling ready to die. A part of me took the time to celebrate the times in my life that were great and exciting and to really appreciate that I had taken risks and had wonderful experiences. I suppose it's like wanting to end on a "high note." Its hard for me to look forward and see the brightness I see in my past. But its good that I can look at anything through the lens of positivity.
I went from a numbness, to an emotional overload - where I felt like I was up down and sideways at any given moment, to now an overall gloom. The gloom is familiar. It doesn't feel troublesome. But there is this reborn anxiety of things falling apart all over again. The pattern has been too entrenched to imagine a stable life, let alone any sort of positive upswing. I recently switched jobs again, this is the fourth in four years. I keep trying to land somewhere I can call home, but I just heard that there is low morale in my new workplace and the organizational health is bad. This news totally unseats me.
I don't ever gamble. It's virtually impossible to imagine a lucky moment for me. I can point to a few things in my life, but if I say I'm fortunate I'll jinx it and curse myself to have the one good thing fall to pieces.
That being said, I am "better" from my darkest moment. But maybe the point of throwing out the diaries is that if you keep reading the same thoughts repeating themselves you get stuck in them. I feel like I've been stuck with the same thoughts and feelings since I was a teenager. I still feel like a child. Now is a time that my friends are all preparing to get pregnant and start families, and I don't even feel capable of taking care of myself let alone another human being. Especially when I require nine hours of sleep a night!
Alright now I am self-conscious that this last post won't live up to my previous ones, if anyone is reading them. Sigh. I am my own worst enemy in this life.
I hit a rock bottom shortly after my last post. A deep dark place of being very suicidal. I am always scared to put that out there because of potential judgment that will happen through good google search skills, but I am going to just let go of the fear. It was scary - my friends took turns being with me so I was never alone. I had to seek serious professional help. After i inched back from the ledge, it took a long time to feel anything but awful. I slowed down my life. I picked up drawing - which may be how I should be posting now, because my amateur art tells a powerful story of my emotions. I never could draw as a kid, so the fact that I exhibited any natural talent at my age felt like a feat. But of course I took a class, which then made me feel inadequate, which undermined the whole concept of using drawing as art therapy for me.
There is something liberating about feeling ready to die. A part of me took the time to celebrate the times in my life that were great and exciting and to really appreciate that I had taken risks and had wonderful experiences. I suppose it's like wanting to end on a "high note." Its hard for me to look forward and see the brightness I see in my past. But its good that I can look at anything through the lens of positivity.
I went from a numbness, to an emotional overload - where I felt like I was up down and sideways at any given moment, to now an overall gloom. The gloom is familiar. It doesn't feel troublesome. But there is this reborn anxiety of things falling apart all over again. The pattern has been too entrenched to imagine a stable life, let alone any sort of positive upswing. I recently switched jobs again, this is the fourth in four years. I keep trying to land somewhere I can call home, but I just heard that there is low morale in my new workplace and the organizational health is bad. This news totally unseats me.
I don't ever gamble. It's virtually impossible to imagine a lucky moment for me. I can point to a few things in my life, but if I say I'm fortunate I'll jinx it and curse myself to have the one good thing fall to pieces.
That being said, I am "better" from my darkest moment. But maybe the point of throwing out the diaries is that if you keep reading the same thoughts repeating themselves you get stuck in them. I feel like I've been stuck with the same thoughts and feelings since I was a teenager. I still feel like a child. Now is a time that my friends are all preparing to get pregnant and start families, and I don't even feel capable of taking care of myself let alone another human being. Especially when I require nine hours of sleep a night!
Alright now I am self-conscious that this last post won't live up to my previous ones, if anyone is reading them. Sigh. I am my own worst enemy in this life.
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