I realized that it wasn’t worth it, found other forms of ventilation (writing, drawing, general distraction, BEING AROUND PEOPLE). The last one especially helped, it’s so easy to give-in when you feel isolated. In those times all I really wanted was to be alone, but I knew it was toxic and that I needed to just put myself out there and get out of my own fucking head and away from things/people/situations that were putting negativity there.
I met someone who helped me break away from the torturous mindsets previously embedded into me throughout the duration of my youth, she helped me not give a fuck about the trivial things. She was the least judgmental person ever and the first person I ever really felt I could be myself around. I’m tearing-up thinking about it.
I grew up extremely sheltered and was raised by fear, the only person I clung to lived 4000 miles away and was extremely mentally abusive, in ways I didn’t realize until about a year ago. I lived through almost five years of that. I was brain-washed and emotionally battered to the point that I had no idea who I even was. I spent almost my entire teenhood hating myself so much that I became nothing and felt nothing. I lived through my vices and my self-destruction. The only goal I was really working towards was death.
I didn’t just “snap out of it”, it’s a long, long process and relapses are nearly impossible to not spiral into, but they become fewer and fewer and you realize how not-worth-it it really is.
The relief only lasts a few moments. The scars are forever. But at least the internal ones can be nurtured, can be ventilated, can morph into something positive. While the scars show that I made it through misery and I’m proud of that, they also haunt me.
It’s just about learning to channel your emotions differently. For me I just began shutting-off, not feeling anything. And gradually have progressed into being able to speak about my emotions without crying (usually u__u) or being overwhelmed by anxiety. Letting them out as soon as possible really, really helps. They just get bigger the longer you let them breed inside of you. Sometimes it’s the opposite though, sometimes it just needs to simmer a while until you can rationally sort it out so that you don’t end up doing something you regret.
Writing has been my absolute savior. Writing and learning to laugh at absolutely everything.
And thinking about the future. Nice things like that.
If you, or someone you know, is struggling then I greatly recommend blogging your fucking heart out every time you feel the urge. Messaging me or someone else who will listen if you don’t feel like publishing it on your blog, or drawing until you’re so absorbed in your work that the feeling fades and you can sleep it off.
Cuddling up with your pet, they really are the best at unconditional love.
And remember to breathe, breathe, breathe, work your lungs and clasp your hands together and promise yourself that things will get better. Because they absolutely will.