Breathe. Believe. Shine. A Lyrical Guide.

Music is a big part of most people’s lives, and can be a wholly healing thing. Some people find the noise of it comforting, others the melodies, but personally I prefer lyrics, particularly the ones that grab me and inspire me – especially those that inspire me to keep on fighting.

I’ve made a list of songs, and have taken the lyrics I feel are the most inspiring from each, the ones that remind me how and why I need to keep on fighting against all the anxiety and depression that surrounds me, others are ones that simply make me feel like I’m not alone in the fight.

Some are cheesy, some are deep, and some are just a pure prescription back to the path you want to be travelling to find your shine again.

A New Era

It's been a long while since my last post, but I finally feel like I'm back in a place where I can start writing again. 

A lot happened to me over the past year, and a lot of it wasn't good. I'm not going to go through it, there's no point in dragging myself down in having to retell the story again. Let's just say that it's made me stronger and a different person - one closer to the person I actually want to be.

There has been some good that's happened too though. I've met new people, I've overcome certain fears, I've climbed obstacles and smashed some to smithereens, I've started doing certain activities again that I feared I'd never feel comfortable enough to ever try again, and I'm so much happier than I've been in ages. 

There's no doubt that I still have a lot of work to do, but the fact that I am at the point that I am now, I consider some sort of a miracle -- especially in comparison to this time last year, or even six months ago.  It's been baby steps, and I've stumbled, crawled, and fallen backwards, but I'm still going forwards. I've discovered that as much as my impatient brain wants to, I'm not yet ready for leaps and bounds, but as far as I'm concerned, as long as I continue on the path that I'm on, it doesn't matter how long it takes me to reach my goal. 

I still have issues, I'm still suffering from everything under the sun, but I feel like I'm learning to deal with it all in new and different ways. I'm so very proud of myself, and I know that there are people in my life that are just as proud, and this means the world to me. The people in my life now are the ones that I want there, the ones that I need, and the ones that I deserve. It took me far too long to realise this, and it's not something I will ever let myself go back on.

The image in my last post - the teary eye and the knife - that picture is on my bedroom wall, I see it every morning when I wake up, and every night before I go to sleep. It reminds me of where I used to be, and how far I've come now. It's been over 9 months since I last self harmed. I'd be lying if I hadn't had the thought or the urge since, but I haven't actually fallen so low that I've felt the real desire. Another reason to be unbelievably proud of myself. 


Now I feel like I'm back in a place where I can actually write about my life and my experiences and troubles again without descending into a bottomless pit, I shall attempt to update more often. Even just writing this out has made me smile and feel like another part of me is back to where it should be -- and that it too can continue the path onwards and upwards! 

Release

Help Tips

Having been asked for help explaining how non suffers can help and support those who have anxiety and depression, I wrote the following. 

As far as anxiety and depression goes, at least in my case as others might be different - reassurance is a big part. Don't reject them, hurt them or leave them stranded in some way (may not seem to you like you are, but to them it could feel like you're pushing them out of a plane into the ocean and they can't swim), keep your eyes open for signs of panic and uncomfortableness - could be anything from silence, nail biting, finger twiddling, refusal to put down their phone etc - constantly reassure them that they're gonna be okay and that you're there for them. Don't force them into situations you know/think they might be uncomfortable with, but be there to support them if they try and do something outside of their comfort zone. Don't always believe 'fine' as an answer when you ask how they are, but don't try and push too far for a better answer, just let them know that you're there if they need you. 

Depression is a lot of the same, but needing extra encouragement to try and do things rather than just wallow. Too much wallowing means not wanting to do things, which means when it comes to actually trying to do things it could have been too long since you've seen people and the anxiety kicks in, and beliefs that there will be endless questions as to where you've been or what's up or things like that then make you not want to do anything again.

Try and get them to do things, but within their limits. Ask if they wanna go for a drink or a walk or something, and even if you normally get the same answer of no, keep trying - but don't push. Let them know that they're not alone, even if that's all they feel, constant reassurance that they're not a hinderance, annoying or ridiculous/pathetic can mean a lot.

Just trying is the main thing though. Even if you feel like you may have failed because they're still panicky or crying or suicidal, the fact that you even bothered trying in the first place means a hell of a lot, as so many people just ignore those with anxiety and depression, or think we're attention seeking (which maybe we are, but at least in my case it's generally a cry for help) and the fact that there's someone on the planet that actually seems to be showing compassion towards us can at least make stepping stones towards helping recovery.

Fears

I am terrified about a lot. Some are little things, some are big things. Some are ridiculous, some are normal. I am attempting to get through them, but it’s not easy, but at least I can acknowledge them.

Myself. I am terrified of myself. The way I can go from being on top of the world to wishing I was dead in the blink of an eye. The images that my brain produces. The way I can’t ever seem to forget things, and this means that they forever hurt me. 

Sex. Sex scares the crap out of me. I’ve had it, and I enjoy it, but it scares the living daylights out of me. I’m scared of being that naked - physically and soulfully - I am reasonably inexperienced and have a history to show why, and what’s happened since. I can literally talk the talk, but not walk the walk. When I was writing properly I wrote some pretty damn good smut, porn, erotica, pure filth. But I can feel myself freaking out inside just from thinking about doing it myself. 

Love. It terrifies me. I’ve fallen in love, deeply, thoroughly, and all that happened is that I got hurt. Heart shattered into a million teeny tiny shards hurt, and I’m too scared to let myself do it again, because I’ll just get hurt again, and I got through it before by the skin of my teeth. Not doing it again. I have trust issues, and I don’t think I could ever trust anyone that much, because the risk of pain is far too high right now. 

I’m too scared to trust people, as the people that I’ve put the most trust in in my life have thrown things back in my face, have lied to me, have betrayed me, and made me believe that trust just can’t happen, not without me getting destroyed again. 

Being Ignored. Sometimes I feel like the white crayon and terms and conditions. I often feel like I’ve just been forgotten about, and this stokes the fear deep in me that I will be left alone. Alone to stew in my neuroses, sitting waiting for someone to remember my existence until I become a skeleton. See, told you. 

Being in public can be quite a terrifying experience for me, especially when there’s a high chance that while out, that I have to come face to face with people that make me feel worse than I already do. The mere thought of it makes me want to hide under a table in the corner, or lock myself in a toilet cubicle until they’ve gone. There are some things that I’m just not strong enough to face, and being confronted by one of them, well, that just makes me want to curl up somewhere, and/or carve chunks out of my leg. I know I should let things go, and that I shouldn’t let people make me feel like that, but it’s a long, hard, scary path that I can’t yet crawl down. 

I’m scared that I’ll never get better - that I’ll be a tired, exhausted, miserable, depressed, terrified person my entire life. 

First things first

If you don’t like long posts about personal issues and think that they are all begging for attention when it happens, then turn away now.  

This is about struggle, education and people needing support and love not hate, bullying and being ignored - something that everyone needs to be aware of. I am not proud or attention seeking. I’m the kind of person that admired Robin Williams for his suicide, and seeing it from the same side he saw his life, I understand it - and am proud of him for fighting as long as he did, and making the decision that enough was enough. A life fighting for the tiniest molecule of happiness is not a life. And if you don’t like this fact, then stop reading. 

I have been diagnosed a severe sufferer of Chronic Depression, Chronic Anxiety and Myalgic Enchepalomyelitis (ME/CFS - Chronic Fatigue Syndrome). None of these are fun conditions, and the combination of all three makes things very difficult.  If I was to boil this down to the complete bare basics, it basically means that I am too sad, too scared and too tired to do pretty much anything. And anything that I do do, takes a lot of energy, effort and discomfort. 

I am a long term sufferer. I had my first full blown panic attack (hyperventilating, tears etc.) when I was 5 years old. 5 years, 2 months and 14 days to be precise. I am currently 25 years, 2 months and 19 days old. I have suffered from bad anxiety and depression for at least 20 years. And I am very, very good at hiding it. Told a friend of mine that I’ve known for at least 8 years this and he was gobsmacked. I can hide it. I can put on a face, and be inwardly screaming and dying. 

I am a self harmer. I don’t do it for attention. I do it because sometimes that’s all there is left that doesn’t involve a death certificate. I don’t want to die. I’m just not keen on living either. It lowers my pain, my anxiety and my stress. I am not proud that I do it. 

But it’s a part of who I am, and it’s not something that I should have to hide [from]. 

Do I wish I don’t do it? Yes. 

Do I like the fact that it quietens the deafening constant turmoil? Yes. 

Do I wish that I could live a different life? Yes. 

Is there anything I can really do about it that won’t take most of the rest of my life to climb up the first couple of steps to stairway of full recovery? No. 

There are many people like me. Many people that get teased, bullied, left out, ignored, forgotten about, made to feel like shit about anything at all. If you’re friends with us, then you probably know how we are. And those are the worst possible things you can do. We need love, friendship, and most importantly support. We need help to get to where you are. We need help to be able to smile a non forced smile. We need help to not fake that we’re happy, and actually genuinely feel it. We need for people to not make us feel shit about something that we already do and hate that we do - we’re not in control. And it won’t be easy for you, but it’ll be so much harder on us. It can be hard for many people to understand, but some days just dropping a cup of water will bring us to tears. You may think “Oh this is just one little thing” but we see it as “Oh my God I can’t even get water without fucking up and now I’ve made a huge mess - I shouldn’t even try.”

Next time you see someone struggling, don’t tell them to man up, don’t ignore them, don’t make them feel worse. Ask if they’re okay, ask if there’s anything you can do to help, ask them if they need a hug. See if they maybe want to go and do something as simple as going for a walk/drink/food/10 minutes in the company of someone who cares, as simple and feeble as it may sound to you, stepping out of the front door can feel like climbing Mount Everest. 

I am fully aware that this is a depressing, emotional, unusual first blog post, but it has to be said, especially if you're gonna carry on reading my posts, poems and desperately sad rants.