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

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I feel… Broken.

Recently, I went to my GP to finally get my depression sorted because I’m coming up to a really difficult time in my life and I need to be kind of stable enough to handle it. That being, the results day for my A-levels and the fact that I may or may not be going to university this year. And somehow, that has really kicked me down low. I don’t want to be in this position but I am because when I had the chance to really live up to my potential I couldn’t. Or rather, I could, as my potential had been reduced and shrivelled up because of my depression. Everything seemed impossible at the time, studying and revising… So, I started losing interest in things that would help me relax. Not only that, but my motivation levels would have rapid falls and then peak again, but even lower than it did last time.

I couldn’t speak to anyone about it, everything seemed fatal, like, no matter what happened, I would fail and that would not be okay, so I couldn’t even see the people at school because they just put the living fear into me. They would ask me questions like, oh, how is revision going, have you gotten onto that chapter yet, that topic yet? Have you even started revising that far ahead? What are you doing, why haven’t you done that yet? It was like I was getting bombarded by a whirlwind of questions and it just wouldn’t stop.

In essence, I was depressed, exhausted and constantly anxiety ridden. Every thought in my head was just amplified by the words of the people around me. And my own self-hatred was ringing in my ears, making me incapable of following through with school because I was slowly shutting down from all the pressure. My mum was gone, I was alone looking after my sister, my dad was trying to contact me again, my brother was constantly putting me down and it seemed like he was right because I wasn’t functioning at my optimum self.

And now? I’m still in that slump. Even though I’m on holiday and school has finished, my mum has come home, I’m standing up to my brother a little bit more, it doesn’t feel like it’s going away and it scares me. Because I worked so hard to get rid of it last time, but now it has come back. It has been here for the last six months and I don’t know how to get rid of it. I can’t see people right now because it is too overwhelming. I’ve gained so much weight that I’m ashamed to go out of the house, I hate the way I look and I haven’t got a job yet or anything and I need one because… I just need something to do so I don’t go insane. But that hasn’t happened yet, even though all my friends have jobs so it feels like I’m just being lazy constantly. I don’t feel like I’ve done everything an 18 year old should have at this point. And my best friend keeps harassing me with phone calls and I’ve realised how controlling she is, so I can’t even answer them out of fear of being controlled again.

It’s like the pressure never stops, it can only continue. And like holding onto a small object, arms outstretched for a number of hours, my arms feel about ready to fall off.

I’m tired and I want to just get better but I feel like I’m broken. Because talking to my GP, I now know that I have a lot to work through, and it’s not something I can stick a band aid onto and it will all be healed. It’s something where I have to commit to a 24 hour surgery and hope that the open wound doesn’t become infected and destroy me.

Anywho, long post. I hope this explains the reason why I haven’t been posting as frequently as I used to. And why I’m always MIA. Agh, and why I feel quite broken.

Nakedstreetkid out x

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Nostalgic in London

It never once occurred to me that I could even miss London. I’ve always thought of London as this place that I reside in – that I exist in. Where extreme poverty and extreme wealth live side by side. Nothing ever seemed fair in London because facts were constantly hidden from outsiders. And I’ve always been disgruntled – unforgiving – of that point. So, I thought, why not make a living somewhere else? Why not make my mark somewhere else?

And the best place for that was at university.

So, I’ve applied for universities outside of London simply because I hated this constant pretence that is painted all over the place in London. The government does a very good job of doing this by highlighting the diversity of culture, religion and ethnicity. When in actual fact, there are isolated pockets of religions (and in turn ethnicities) scattered across London.

A classic allotment of Ghettos make up the majority of the city. In Stamford Hill you have a majority of Jewish population, in Bow you have people of African descent and in Tower Hamlet you have people of Bangladeshi origins. That’s not to say that there aren’t other religions or races living there, just that there isn’t this picture of complete equality that the government attempts to present to the public. And they do this again and again by marginalising the inequalities that exist in London.

And it’s frustrating and annoying. And I really wanted to leave. But now, not so much.

Because even though there are ghettos that exist, we as the young don’t really stay in them. The rich mix with the poor, Bangladeshi with the African, Christian with the Muslim. The divisions constructed by the old are easily knocked down by the young as the youth are able to take steps out of their comfort zones.

We make our own culture, recognise our own differences bur draw closer together as a unit because we know our similarities are stronger. There is something incredibly temporary about growing up this way. How much longer can we stand together before our parents continue to crack away at our unity by enlarging our differences?

But still, I am going to miss London. I’m going to miss it so much because I’ll miss the youthful culture that the young have manifested from our truths.

I’m sorry, this probably all makes no sense. So, I am sorry. I just wanted to write. I should probably wait a bit, look over all the mistakes I have surely made from writing this in one go. But I really must start getting ready for a workshop I have today. So, mistakes and all.

This shall be posted.

Nakedstreetkid out! 🙂