The start of getting better-hopefully.

I can fake happiness like nobody’s business. There are days though, when at best I can fake only “okay”… Only those that know me really well will know something is off on those days but even then they don’t really know ME… I don’t let them. I don’t talk about my depression. I don’t talk about my anxiety. And i especially don’t talk about my bulimia… Outwardly I seem fairly normal…but my reality is that I am constantly on a low…blue or grey is my life. I am always contemplating suicide and fighting the urge to harm and/or kill myself. Every moment. Every day. It’s a never ending battle. Some days are just easier than others.

It’s not fun. And I hate it.

I live fearing myself and my own actions. I keep myself busy from the time I wake up to the time I pass out because I don’t trust myself with spare time for even a moment. But even at my busiest moments I still have fantasies and day dreams about dying… when I’m driving how easy it would be to just merge over into oncoming traffic when a larger vehicle is coming… At work…anyone of my jobs I could look at just about anything and imagine multiple different ways of how I can kill myself with that particular object… bottle of aspirin…the pen on the upper left corner of the desk…we’re close to a road way just time it right and walk out…

The point is I have to force myself to do something- ANYTHING else. I don’t want to. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to drive anywhere…I don’t want to get up. But I HAVE to… since childhood I’ve been trained and conditioned that what I want does not matter. No matter what I have responsibilities…and they always come first. It’s difficult and exhausting.

I’m never happy really…and I’m rarely ever content (blue and grey). The minor occasions when I am content- when I get a glimpse and feel of what happiness might be like- it’s gone as quick as it came. It’s fleeting…it dances before me then drifts away into nothing and afterward I feel lower than I was before. It’s why I hate going out anywhere…doing anything that normal people find “fun” because I know…that at some point it’ll all come crashing down on me and I’ll be so fucking close to another suicide attempt. And I hate that feeling.

But still…I out on my mask and pretend I’m a normal human who isn’t broken. I venture out with people I know. I laugh, and smile and play along with the game all the while inside I’m screaming and crying, “I can’t do this. I can’t…”  I drink sometimes, (bad mix with depression I know but hey consume enough and I can die right?), but I feel some empty and numb that…I really don’t follow what’s going on for long. A short time I’m okay…but soon enough I go into panic mode and autopilot comes on. And my chances of relapsing increase drastically.

I relapsed recently…self harm and bulimia wise..anxiety comes and goes though I believe is depression based but I can’t say for sure… I had previously been purge and self harm free for about 6 months…and I fucked it all up a couple days ago. I work at a non profit horse rescue (outside my regular full time job which is also with horses), and myself and 3 of the team members, (will be referred to as team members 1, 2, and 3), went out after working at the rescue that day (it was Wednesday the 15th of March if anyone is wanting to know). I should not have gone out. I had been feeling low all day and just overall not wanting to do anything but I did anyway. We went out to dinner. Team member 2 went home after dinner but team member 1, 3 and myself went to a bar after to play pool and myself and 1 drank. Team member 3 doesn’t drink and was d.d. We played pool and we drank…I shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t have been drinking but I didn’t give a fuck. I had the next day off and I just gave up on fighting whatever I was feeling. We played a few rounds of pool and ended up inviting another patron at the bar to join us (new guy 1). It was still fairly early around 8 or 9 pm so there were only 6 or 7 people in the bar excluding the bartender. We played and drank more and smoked (Team member 1 and 2 and I are smokers). New guy 1 was waiting for a friend and eventually his buddy showed up (new guy 2), and he joined us so we had someone sitting out. It varied on who sat out. But after an hour maybe an hour and a half I hit my limit (not drinking wise)… I fell into panic mode and I feel like I’m suffocating. I sit out on the next few games and I go outside. I needed air. I needed to cool down… I needed to escape. But it wasn’t enough; I was outside for awhile (not sure exactly how long). I stared out at the highway that was right there and just wondered- why not? I didn’t have answer but I also didn’t have an answer to “why?” “Why do I feel this way?” ” Why do I want to die?”…”Why am I like this?”…I just kept staring out there, considering what could happen until I finally went back in…I went straight to the bathroom almost hyperventilating- thankfully no one was paying close attention. I Harmed myself with a box cutter blade and a lighter (I carry blades in my wallet because I’m ridiculous). I also purged while I was in the bathroom…no one knew. None of them will ever know (I hope). I prefer to over exercise rather than vomit- people don’t question exercise- but sometimes I don’t have that option. I’m not proud. In fact I’m angry. I’m angry that I allowed myself to get that bad…that I allowed myself to reach a point that I lost all control and will power. I was angry and still am. Because I had been asked before I went outside by team member 1 if I was okay…and like the idiot I am I lied and said I was fine just wanted to go outside for a bit… I hate myself more now because of my relapse. 6 months all turned to shit. After I left the bathroom I was on auto pilot… I drank, smoked, and played pool when it was my turn, like nothing happened though my arms and leg throbbed from where I had just harmed myself…I’m not proud. I’m ashamed.

Mentally I shut down before I went outside but we were there until about 1:30am… I never should have been. If I hadn’t have gone maybe I would have stayed clean from self harm. Clean from purging… I would have… because I would have just taken my sleeping pills and went to bed… But instead I made a nightmare for myself and I can’t live it down… Still though; team member 1 had a lot of fun…so not everything was a waste.

—————

This was a very forward introduction to me…and my struggles. I threw out there basically everything from the start, (well the start of this particular day. In generally I’ve been dealing with this shit for years), so you’ll know just exactly what this shit is and exactly what it will be about… It won’t always be as bad as this. And it won’t always be this long. But I want you to know- to realize- just how real it is for me. How difficult and exhausting everything is. I don’t have any real expectation or goal that I want to happen with this being out there-it’s more or less an attempt at a new outlet, a new therapy for me- But if it does help others to understand better what it’s like for someone to live with depression or anxiety or bulimia or any combination of the 3- then that’s a good thing because someone else who is struggling will have someone who can help a little better.

I’m hoping to post something everyday- they won’t always be long- It’ll generally be shorter rather than longer. Some will be… but it will mostly focus o  my depression and my occasional flare up of anxiety and bulimia. But no guarantees of how often I will actually post.

-B

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