Depression sucks

TW - Self harm, mental breakdown, suicidal feelings

Depression sucks.

I feel like I’m living in a constant internal battle with myself. No, not myself. With brain goblins. Little creatures of darkness that take pleasure from slowly and systematically tearing my brain apart.

I’m so unbelievably lonely just now but when I have the confidence to reach out, I get his feeling that I’m going to be a bother. Like there is so much going on at the moment with Covid that people in my life don’t need to deal with my madness too.

And it is madness. I know this. The thoughts that go through my head on a now daily basis are the things of a crazy person. Whenever I think my horrible shit a small memory of a Greg Davies stand up comes to my mind and I smirk, “Its not normal love”. And it’s not normal.

Most people can pick up a pen to write something in their idea book – a painting idea based on the black zodiac – and not think “It might help if you jam this pen deep into your thigh”. That wouldn’t help anything … ever. When most people make a cup of tea, I'm sure they don't have this weird urge to put their hand in the kettle and I'm almost positive most people don't want to smash their face of a wall just to give a justifiable reason for their tears.I know I’m looking for a distraction from the despair. And previously that was self-harm.

I don’t want to do that, but I know it works. I feel like my mind is spiralling completely out of control and I have no way to rein it in. In the past when I felt that loss of control of my life, I would do something drastic – Cut my hair short, eat till I threw up, cut myself. While all of these actions are self-destructive, they do give me a sense of people over myself. Like for one short moment in life, I had a say in what I felt. But I don’t want to cut all my hair off, the pain of my suspected IBD and my gallstones make me sick enough and Daddy would be gutted if I cut myself.

I got so low yesterday that I confided in him that I wanted to self-harm and felt it was a necessary. I’ve been wanting to tell him for the last few days that I’m reaching my lowest point, but I haven’t felt like I could. And that’s on me. Daddy has made it clear at every turn that I can talk to him about anything – no judgment, but lately he has been so busy with work that when he is home, he falls asleep mid conversation so him waking up to me saying please help me, isn’t what he needs. He has so much going on in his life that I feel shame adding to the stress. He is distant from me geographically and because of my feeling toxic, I am being pushed to feeling distant from him emotionally.

In December I caved and agreed to therapy for my mental health – Severe depression, anxiety, and PTSD.

I HATE having to explain my mind to people who I feel might judge me. I know their opinion shouldn’t matter; I know people who read my blog might be judging me but having a person in front of you give you that look. That fucking look. It’s a mix of pity and a little fear, like at any point I might open an artery and make it rain all over them. I didn’t want to open the box of horrors inside my head, but I knew I needed to. There is only so long you can push that stuff down before it starts to bleed all over your life. Daddy was confident I could handle it and he said he would help me through it, but thanks to lockdown he’s not been able to really help. He’s too far away from me and I can’t really break apart on a text message. I can’t do that to him. I want to be someone that makes him happy and that he associates with love and happiness, not this crazy bitch who is going mad locked away inside a prison she made by herself.

I’m struggling with lockdown, I’m struggling with being apart from Daddy, I’m struggling with dealing with my past trauma and I’m struggling with overthinking EVERYTHING.

Daddy asked me to please not hurt myself. And I won’t, as I can’t let him down. But I have no idea what to do to distract the goblins. I’m having a breakdown and I’m powerless to stop it.


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