I’ve been going on here every day, typing a sentence…starting a post…then deleting it and closing out the browser. There are so many things that need to be said, that I am dying to write…but I lost my voice. I lost that confidence. I lost what I always valued that most right from the start. My edge, my vibe, my personality…it all blended together in this giant blender and what came out was indigestible.
I have to find that again. Here is my step, finally writing the post that I have been dying to post. Saying “I have to find myself again” sounds so cliche and quite unfulfilling to me. Becuase the real question is…did I ever know who I truly was? I have been living with most of the things I have been diagnosed with all my life. When people say “You aren’t your mental illness,” I kind of laugh inside. It is nothing against them, as I know they are only trying to help and bring me comfort, but it is funny to even think that way for me. Maybe it is true for other people dealing with their individual mental illnesses and going about their days. Maybe, just maybe for them, that is completely true. They are not their mental illness. But for me, oh no my loves…I am definitely my mental illnesses. Before you start throwing your opinions at me, let me explain….
Think about it for a minute with me okay? From the age of 5, I had behavioral issues within school and home. Taking my opinions of my home life out of the picture and focusing on just me as a person, I was probably a nightmare. At the time, there wasn’t a really answer as to why I was the way I was. I had point and reward systems set up with the school guidance counselors for when I did and didn’t act out. Many of my early childhood teachers probably wanted to hurl themselves off a cliff and I wouldn’t blame them. I was a nightmare to deal with. Temper tantrums, fits, rages, hyperactivity, and deep sadness all in one miserable child.
Continuing into my high school life, I obviously matured a lot more from middle school, but I was still very childish. Depending on people to get me through the day, sad almost ALL the time…and when I wasn’t sad I was either extremely anxious and hyper or very sassy. I spoke out against a lot of my teachers. I mouthed off to almost every one that upset me in some way. Give me something I don’t want to hear? You are getting a fight back. I was constantly fighting in my brain. This turned into me lashing out to any authority figure that gave me the answer I didn’t want to hear. There was only really one that saw through it all and quite literally saved my life.
So what about currently? Almost the same as high school. In fact, one could even go as far to say that I am worse than high school ever saw me. I have to be an adult and a functioning adult at that too. I have bills to pay, school to pay attention to, and my own well being to manage now. I still throw tantrums. I still cry every day of my life over the dumbest shit. I still find myself completely depending on one person in my life and getting hurts every day because of it. I still lash out at professors or authority figures, in fact,t it would be safe to say that has even gotten worse over the years.
So really, think about it…I AM my mental illnesses. They are who I am and everything I do is because of them. There isn’t one thing I do with my life that isn’t a decision I made or an action I took part in that you could say was made or done without any mental illness influence. EVERYTHING I do is because of one of them. EVERYTHING.
So….maybe it is time to just start over again. Due to certain circumstances, I will be moving back to my hometown for the summer when this semester of college lets out. Part of me is embarrassed to admit this and the part is excited to reconnect with my sisters, my niece, friends, and my “adopted” family. I almost feel as if I am tucking my tail between my legs and running back home just like everyone thought I was going to do anyway. Truthfully, this is so much greater than my pride. There are a lot of things that I believe I need to reconnect with back in Luxemburg. I have my old friends, many of whom were the greatest friends I could ever have in my life. Reconnecting with the few is a fabulous idea. I have two of my sisters that I also haven’t had the time to spend with them, along with my little niece. With my littlest sister just moving out, me being home is good for her also. I miss my work family so much that is hurts sometimes. I love working there and am excited to go back for them. And lastly, to be around the people, besides my sisters, that I call my family. The people that were there for me when I moved out, supported me, and loved me through it all.
This doesn’t take away to immense amount of difficulty that I will have to face. Leaving the one person in this world right now that means the most to my heart is going to be the hardest thing I have had to do in a long time. My best friend and I have spent two years together and never being apart from each other for more than a week. The hardest part for me is knowing that me moving away makes her happy…this part absolutely kills me. I know I am a lot to deal with and probably the most frustrating person in the world to be with, but hearing that broke my heart art. I can’t understand how after all this time, spending so long apart won’t sadden her. I know this just leads into who I am and what I have, but this is going to be like dragging my feel through a sinkhole every single day I am apart from her. Maybe she will realize she doesn’t need me, maybe she sees this as her opportunity to leave. Maybe I am just overthinking this all and I shouldn’t even be thinking this way, who knows. I guess we will find out in due time. Either way, the cookie crumbles, I am going to hurt. That is how much I love my best friend. The idea of being away from her is almost too much for me to even process.
Anyway, this was a 2 am post and who knows how coherent I am even being right now or if anyone will read this. I am struggling and continue to struggle even more every day I keep trying to fight against everything. I am exhausted and emotionally drained. I can’t see much happiness for the next day. Or the next