moments

Moments: Eyes Open

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I’m laughing this time. Moving to the ebb and flow of each syncopated beat. Saturating my body with every single juicy bass bound whirl. I’m absolutely loving it.

I told you, I was laughing. A grin teasing away at each residual bit of baby fat still clinging on for the youthful justice on my cheeks. The muscles of my mouth would only rest on a smile, no bit small but restful nonetheless.

Grinning. Smiling. Laughing.

I can see my best friend. Cozy near the small bar of the club, talking to a bouncer. About what? I don’t know. But she was smiling. And that’s all I needed to see.

That’s all I needed to see before closing my eyes once again. Mimicking each wave of the music with my spine. Colours are tracking my body with their eyes, I follow along its tantalising tale.

I open my eyes once more and this time she’s smiling at me. I smile back. A genuine exchange of happiness.

Can my eyes return there? Never again.

Because I told you, didn’t I?

I was whisked away.

I was whisked away.

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journal

Exploring the Stupidity of Emotional Dysregulation 

I’ve recently experienced so many fucking emotional flashbacks that it has been unreal. 

I’ve had to delete my whatsapp and disconnect my phone because the very idea of having to communicate with another human being while in this state of mind has been strenuous. Strenuous due to the high levels of just pure anxiety it provokes. 

I should start with the fact that during the weekend I went back down south to see old flatmates and make new ones. But I was just… I completely checked out. I couldn’t process through anything, I was feeling so stupid, so embarrassingly stupid because I didn’t know what I was doing. 

The thing is, what I usually fall back on are pre-existing experiences, copying what I did there so that they still come across authentic and then applying them in a chosen situation. However I couldn’t. I had never experienced house hunting or anything of that nature. 

I found that I was frustrated with myself, my internal critic gabbering on and poking fun at me. All the while physically, my face was completely blank and any affect in my voice was barren. I realised in that moment I was dissociating. I was internally reverting back into that little traumatised girl, having the same emotional capacity, believing that I was beyond a disappointment, failing everyone around me. 

I was walking around with the belief that I was, am, inferior and that I was a defective human being that deserved to die. 
Now, this didn’t start – or rather restart – this weekend, it started about a week ago  (shout out to that boy Bobby Shmurda). This idea had been cultivating inside my own mind for so long and I had decided to – whether passively or actively – ignore what I was feeling. In doing that it had found a way to thrive into this toxic energy that not only effected my own esteem but also the way I interacted with others. 

I am so sure that I’m fucking up every single relationship – friendship or otherwise – that it seems impossible to see a way out. Now, that may just be the depression talking but it is scary and I am scared. I am frightened being in this head space, during which I’ve suppressed so many emotions that now they are coming to the forefront of my mind and just burning there. And it feels so entirely uncontrollable. 

This is what emotional flashbacks feel like. And this is what emotional dysregulation looks like for me.

Because last week was where I was completely checked out, completely numb and dissociating all the time for the slightest reason. Now, I’m feeling excessively depressed, like I want to harm myself in any sense of the word. But in the next two weeks, I’ll be as right as rain, brighter than the sun, smiling all the time, having forgotten what this pain feels like. No longer as distressed, and I’ll be happy. 

until the next time where the process 

                                                                      Starts

                                                                                  Again. 
Nakedstreetkid out x

Flashback, journal, moments, Poetry

Flashback: My First Swear

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Time stalls on the window sill

My tiny feet grips past the gloss, straight onto the flaking wood, face pressed onto the window, hands by my side

Laughter from the living room reminds me of their harsh words

Their intent to scare me, to remind me that I was no more than a common fool a success

Tears work its way down my cheeks

My warm breath dents the cold glass as a silhouette shaped like my chin and nose forms as the rain on the other side collect into droplets

 

Finally, I let the pain go and give room for anger to emerge

It wrestles my body into havoc as I begin to kick out against the window, punch away the fabric within the curtains and let my tongue boil out a single word

“Fuck”

I scream it

Then stop cold in my tracks

Did they hear?

Did they hear their 8 year old sister collapse into a word forbidden in this household

I wait

I listen

And nothing.

So I say it again

Nervous giggles jolting the words out in a quiet whisper

The word feeling oversized but good, easing away my anger

 

Better.

 

I feel better again.

Continue reading “Flashback: My First Swear”

journal

What to do? 

I’ve been crying a lot lately. 
Ever since my 20th birthday, I’ve become increasingly depressed. This depression stems from me having a mixed bag of both successes and failures in the past month, and my inability to focus on the good. 

The long and short of it is, I’ve been focusing on the bad. All the mistakes I’ve made, all the risks I’ve taken and the negative consequences as a result has knocked back my confidence. 

I’m back to questioning “Am I good enough?”

To which the answer has been a deep, resounding “no”, and that is terrifying. 

Over the past couple of months, I’ve made huge strives in recovery. I’ve stopped self-harming, I talk more openly with friends and family, and I am taking deep control and responsibility for my future. 

But that feels like that is no longer the case as I am going through another bout of depression and thus going in and out of dissociative states. 

To be honest, I haven’t a clue of what I should do to feel better, but writing has always helped in the past so… I hope this works. 

Nakedstreetkid out xx

random

Waving My White Handkerchief

I have this permenant hatred for myself that despite me constantly trying to work on myself, never seems to quite go away. And maybe the reason it never goes away is because I’m always working on myself. 

Strange, right? But think about it.

In my mind’s eye, constantly working on myself has convinced my instinctual nature that something is inherently wrong with me.

And guess what!?

That can really lower my already horrendously low self-esteem! (Yay!)

Which turns out to make me sadder and sadder until low and behold, I’m staring at the face of depression as my barely visible hand in my crowded mind spasms a wave of a white handkerchief. 

Point is, I’m not happy.

I’m not happy one fucking bit.

Uncategorized

Balancing things out: An update of happier times

Okay, a lot has happened and I really don’t want y’all to think that it has all been bad. Bceuase that is not truly representative of everything right now.

So, for my sanity and for ours, here are all the good bits.

I’m doing much better in learning all of my content before my exams because I now go to “night school”. Which, to those outside of my life, do not understand how great that is for me because, as hinted above, I rarely learn or understad all of the content in my subjects before my exams. Which is a terrifying reality for me before every flipping exam which is probably why I get so anxious about each and every exam. But guess what guys! This shall no longer be the case because I am actually learning!

So, hey guys, someone is going to pass an exam soon which I’m excited about and, something I kind of need because…

I got accepted by my first choice university! Which is awesome! How I did it when I was so depressed and suicidal, I will never know, but I am glad I powered through all of those rigorous interviews because now, it is so worth it.

On the note of depression (and the other one i.e. suicide), I actually have a psychological evaluation in a weeks time which is going to be great. Why is it going to be great? Because I can finally start to actually tend to and thus treay and heal all of these open wounds which they call trauma. Yay! And maybe I can get some help with this emotional dysregulation, which would be amazing.

Okay, that is the juice of it all. There is obviously a lot more fibre to all of it, but we don’t have all day. So, perhaps later? Or, in three months, whichever is first! ;P

Listening to: Wait for me by Motopony

Nakedstreetkid out xx