pj, you are strong
tw: death, suicide
it's been a while since i've written anything.
things have happened, thoughts have been thought, but i just haven't felt compelled to write about anything until now.
not much has changed for me;
i'm still working my part-time job, lying in bed lifeless for most of the day, therapy once a week, taking the same medications (with some adjustments to dosage).
trying to get myself to start studying and applying for jobs again but still no motivation, no willpower, and a strange wall i like to just label as "overwhelmedness" if that's even a word.
but i know i'll get there.
even though i'm trying so hard to stay hopeful and beat the negative thoughts, when i'm wasting away in bed i can't help but think about how i've gotten nowhere in life (i know, not true, but it's how i feel), and how i'm still so far away from achieving my goals.
i know there's no benefit in thinking this way, so i tell myself that it's not true, that i'm just walking at a different pace, and that i've been slowed down because of my mental illness, but i never really truly believe it deep down.
it feels like i'm covering a giant hole in the wall with a poster but it doesn't get rid of the fact that the hole is still there.
but something that i truly believe is that i am strong, and i am resilient.
when things were the worst, i knew in the moment that i was in a dark place, but looking back i realize how severe it really was.
i was okay with dying at any moment; i even had a period of time where i never looked both ways when crossing a street because i really didn't care.
i had thoughts of flooring it while driving and i had several thoughts about what kind of notes i would leave behind.
there was definitely a time when i felt that i was beyond help and that i didn't want it, so you might ask, what made me change my mind?
honestly, i'm not sure.
i think at some point i just came to a realization that it's not fair for me to have lived in a way that i didn't want to live and then to just die never having lived my own life and never having shown my parents the damage they've done to me.
it was the anger and feeling of being wronged that fueled me.
i've definitely mentioned parts of it in other posts, but getting help was not easy.
the first time, my parents threw out my prescription so i couldn't get a refill.
when i was independent in college, i took several medications, mostly to no avail.
i had seen multiple counselors/therapists and was still struggling to think in a different way.
when i had thought i was finally getting better, i was wrecked by a toxic work environment.
and yet, i managed to get help for myself again by finding a therapist and a psychiatrist.
even after so many ups and many more downs, i'm still fighting.
i get hurt easily, i cry a lot, i'm scared, and i'm tired.
but i'm going to keep fighting and pushing through because i know i deserve to see the light, and i know i deserve to finally live a life in an environment, at a workplace, with people, where i can say i am happy.
pj, you are strong - don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
and to anyone else who is also fighting, you are strong too.