Darkness

I wish I had answers.

I always do.

Truth is, I don't have a clue.

Chemical imbalance, illness, emotions.

They're all just words. You can find them all in a dictionary or on google. You can seek their definitions and be able to recite them word for word.

Unfortunately mental illness changes from person to person. There isn't one clear meaning or reaction. No matter what the internet, doctors and dictionaries say.

We all spiral differently.

There are shades of darkness.

Some of us fight the darkness with substances.

Some of us fight the darkness with self harm.

Some of us don't fight the darkness, but embrace it like an old friend.

If we hurt other people, we're hurting ourselves twice, three times, four times more.

I am still in my break down.

The start, the middle, the end, I don't know.

I still wake up every morning wishing I hadn't.

Take that as you will.

My life is not my own, it belongs to a curly haired little girl who loves me more than I think anyone ever has.

I don't have choices of my own.

Right now my choices belong to my daughter and my illness.

They want very different things.

My illness tells me I don't care. My illness tells me sleep. My illness tells me everything and everyone can fuck off.

My daughter tells me she loves me. Tells me to play. Tells me to read. Tells me to live.

I will never have answers, I can only hope for solutions.

If it takes 18 hours of sleep a day to spend 6 with my Monkey, I accept that for the moment.

I feel safe in the darkness. Like a warm blanket on a cold night.

I don't know what will or is happening. I know I fight in my own way. You may not see it, you may not like it, you may not accept it but this is the control my illness has.

Falling Apart

*Sigh*

I have spent so much time thinking the past week that I think I've made up for not having graduated high school. I wish this was a happy go lucky post about the joy I got from Blissdom, and that will come, I promise. This is just more important right now.

This is the post wear I'm going to put my soul on the line. The post where I'm not going to hide what I'm going through. The post where I will potentially alienate people. Fuck.

Let's start at the beginning. I am a fraud a huge fraud. I spend my days making people smile and helping people, I come home and cry. I come home and fall apart. I am horribly horribly depressed, fairly heavily medicated and the exact opposite of what most people see.

I give away money every day, I fund raise and fight for people who can't fight for themselves. I wake up every morning not knowing if my lights will turn on or if my phone is still working. It's so ridiculous, its laughable. Laughable if I wasn't so busy bawling my face off. I sit in my car every day when I get home and cry. I avoid going into my home as long as possible. my home is the reality of the sadness of my life.

So many people spend time telling me I have such a light and such potential and they see such great things for me. I have no idea how to get those great things. People are trying to help me but I don't comprehend shit. I don't get it. And everything takes so much time.

I broke down at Blissdom so many times. In the Social Media for Social Good panel I asked how I can live my dream, not sacrifice my happiness and still feed my family and cried. I curled up in my bed and questioned what I was thinking spending money on a conference when I should have been paying bills. I listened to panels talk, knowing many of these people believed in me and wanted the best for me but I honestly had no idea why.

No. Idea. Why.

I'm just a poor girl with a big fucking dream and nothing else. Nothing. Else.

I've done everything people say to do. I try hard, I work hard, I take opportunities, I ask for help and yet I'm not moving forward. I can't keep doing this. It's killing me. I'm falling apart. Losing my mind. Ready to give up completely.

I've gotten so behind that I don't know where to start. I try to function and fail. I only feel human when Im surrounded by people, yet ironically have severe social anxiety issues. People like to inject themselves into my life and make comments about my going out when I "claim" broke. I go out because if I stayed home I would die. My soul would die. I need to be inspired and feel the light of other people in order to even bother making myself get out of bed in the morning.

I need a miracle that isn't coming.

I would rather be happy and poor then have money and hate myself. Not following my dreams feels like slow suicide. Not being able to pay my bills feels like slow suicide. My whole life feels like slow suicide right now. A disease with no cure and no matter which path I take the end result is the same.

Brain Gone Mush

The past three weeks I have had probably close to 90298432 blog posts float through my head. Sadly none of them have made it here.

17 days.

It has been 17 days since my life was turned upside down and inside out.

17 days ago I was just a girl telling a story.

Today I am an organizer of a philanthropic kindness organization that is blowing up effectively making me the worlds poorest philanthropist.

I am a professional woman attending conferences, receiving job offers and requests to come speak at events.

I have people standing behind me, pushing me, supporting me, advising me.

Im working constantly, sleeping rarely and keeping up with my house work, never.

I am talking to designers, PR firms, web gurus, and friends.

I feel like i'm finally going to change the world.

Why do I feel like I am saving the world and can't save myself?

Why does everyone have such faith in me and what I'm doing and yet my personal life is not getting any better.

If in less then 3 weeks I can start changing the world and accomplish so much, then why am I still penny pinching for food and diapers? Why can't I keep up on my own home? Why do I feel like I'm not giving my daughter enough?

How the hell am I supposed to make this work?

I am so blessed and fucked at the same time. Its like that feeling when you're drinking that you know you're having a great time but you also know the next day is gonna hurt.

...And nothing but the truth

"Ask me no questions and i'll tell you no lies" - Oliver Goldsmith

The past few months... ok year... ok couple of years... have been plagued by the question "Are you ok?" in my world. I smile, I nod, I say "yes"... the asker smiles, nods and moves on with their life. A simple exchange that no one thinks twice about. Well except me, I think about it twice, three times, at night, the next day... It haunts me. A little question in passing meant as an expression of caring and a show of support and I hate it. Not because it was asked but because I answer it every. fucking. time. with a lie.

The truth?

I am not ok.

I havn't been "ok" in a very long time. Its true, I have moments of absolute joy. Days, weeks where I am blissfully happy or at least blissfully unaware and completely able to function. I smile, I laugh, I go out and enjoy life. Hell I hold hands with people who arn't ok and tell them how amazing life can be and that they are such a beautiful and special part of what makes this world awesome. My reality is a much darker one. My rose coloured glasses have long since turned grey and my rainbows are a monochromatic wasteland.

I have severe clinical depression.

The kind of depression that doesn't ever go away. A disease that can be managed but not cured. Diagnosed when I was just a child, I've spent basically 2/3s of my 27 years in a depressive hell. Medication, hospitals and scars have plagued my life. Like anyone, at times my depression has been situational, but most of the time it actually is a chemical imbalance in my brain. I also have a severe anxiety disorder. The combination of these two mental health diseases makes my life a constant struggle. Add to that my history in general and you're left with a shell of a human being.

Some people see me as a whiner. Someone who bitches and moans constantly, an attention seeker, an annoyance. In truth I probably am those things at least some of the time, but I also don't know any differently. I don't know how to just be. My brain doesn't allow it. It also contributes to the creation of more problems in my world.

I don't know how to focus, I can't keep a job, I hoard.

I don't sleep properly, I drink too much, I'm easily angered/upset/annoyed.

In the past i've had addiction issues, promiscuity issues and have been known to self harm.

Even as a write this my focused, understandable writings are losing steam. I want to scream, and cry, and throw things, and pour a stiff drink, and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes, and bleed just as proof that I am as human as the people I see every day. My body is starting a revolt against my mind. Headaches, vomiting, body pain, all my body's way of covering up mental pain with physical pain. My body is trying to self-preserve by destroying itself.

So why the fuck am I telling people all this? Its not exactly shit that endears me to people and makes people want to be around me. If anything it makes people give me "the look" and walk away, you know "the look". The one of pity and disgust Im sure we've all seen in some capacity.

Well I'm telling people this because the silver lining in my grey world is becoming tarnished and Im starting to lose my grip. I don't honestly know what the next little bit of my life is going to be like.

What I do know is that my stress levels are through the roof. In fact I just threw a phone across my apartment and into a wall. A sure sign of mental stability and wonderful coping skills.

So there it is folks. In black and white. I am melting down but I'm fucking trying dammit and I don't know how to be any different. And to paraphrase the late Ms. Monroe, If you cant fucking handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.

(Just FYI...I've spent today trying to research parents with depression. Tried to find information on coping techniques, new ways to operate, anything... You know what I've found? That everyone is concerned about the children and no one really gives a rats ass about the parents beyond the fact that their horrible mental state is damaging their children. Gee thanks doctors and scientists of the world, don't help us try and get better just keep telling us were failing.)