Sometimes I wonder if something is wrong with me. How is it that I can love deeply like this? I think of the ways that can make someone else smile. I spend hours looking for something or thinking up ideas on ways I can express my love. Why? Is it that serious? But then I feel bad because sometimes I don’t get the magnitude of love back that I’m giving so I break down. I feel betrayed. Why do I love like this? Even when I can’t afford to love like I do, I’ll go broke drowning in my giving.
I wish I can give the world when I can’t. I’m working too hard to get the love I’m letting out. I don’t want to look crazy for being creative with my love so I feel like I’m retreating to a dark place in my self-esteem. I’m afraid of being hurt and embarrassed for doing too much.
I just want love too.
As I learn to explain what anxiety is to others, I have to first validate what it is in my head and love myself through it. Anxiety is something I go through everyday and by understanding where it came from, I can treat it and take steps in my healing process.
I remember the time I was struck with insecurities about who I am.
How I couldn’t explain what I want to do, or who I want to be.
I remember being stuck…
Putting myself down…
After I was done doing a bad job at explaining my interests, I then immediately thought, wow, that’s stupid. What you want is not a thing.
You won’t get anywhere with that. Who does that? You’ve done nothing for yourself to get the unimaginable dream you want to come true.
And as I began to crush my dreams next to tangible accomplishments of the ones around me, I began to shrink. Shrink so small that I couldn’t see myself anymore. I saw myself in the muck and oil of my current state. I began to grab my aching back and bruised arms, rub the pain from my wrist, and throw up blood from the anxiety and the depression.
Then I thought, a hope so big brings people bed ridden for dead back to life. A hope that opens closed eyes and ears. A hope of power that flows and pumps blood to my heart every time. The one time I feel a touch of happiness is when I create something.
While my suffering heart feels myself floating and dispersing into the sea of forgotten faces of capitalistic tendencies, I remember, my dreams is what brought me back to life after my soul left my body..and into an oblivion I went…drowning in fear and regret, I thought I was nothing, but my dreams made me feel something. While my body and soul unite again it’s because of my pencil and my pen.
I remember why my heart started to beat and the oxygen came back into my lungs.
I created something.
Thats what I do.
I’m a motivator for life.
Living is my motto.
I remember I was struck with insecurities about who I am, then I thought one more time…I create to give back the life of those whos bodies have left their souls.
I came to give back hope
Its been a difficult year already. I’m writing to let out and release because otherwise I don’t know what else to do. I’m in a point in my life where I don’t know where to go or who to talk to. I don’t want to stay where I am but I’m stuck in a cross road and even more stuck mentally. I’m physically exhausted and mentally going partially insane (I feel like). My anxiety is telling me lies but still tears fall down my face because I am loved and people do care, right?
I feel my purpose is lost in a financial prison and my degree is just a burnt paper worth nothing. What do I do? Where do I go? Thoughts of worthlessness in creeping back in and it makes my chest hurt. Holding back cries and wanting to scream is where I am. I only wish things will get better. Hopefully they will.
I have to take care of myself thats one thing I have to keep in mind all the time. I learned a week ago that people only care about their money and their business so jobs are just temporary till you get something better suited for you. Fast food isn’t a healthy environment and I need to move on, but to what?
My procrastination is only a product of my fear, a deeply rooted fear. I’m scared of failure and I’m scared of rejection. I’m scared of change and I’m scared of stress. I’m scared of my anxiety and I’m scared of getting depressed. I just want to be okay for once, for an extended period of time. I’m tired. I’m tired of worrying all the time about everything.
Please life bring something good for me.
This is a letter from the one that kills herself trying to be the best because shes always been in the shadows.
The second best.
The girl whos been rejected.
The girl who developed anxiety because she overcompensates and overdoes it.
The one who was so tedious in her actions that she gets nervous when shes not perfect.
The one who got up extra early to be on time but all she gained from that was loss of sleep.
The one who stood up all night studying and skipped breakfast.
The one who raised her hand every class.
The one who was the weakest link.
The one who couldn’t go to graduate school.
The one whos mental illnesses crippled her to mental paralysis. Dark. In a daze. She just wanted to be...the best.
The best is an illusion. The best is fake. The best is a lie. No one is the best. Everyone has talents. Everyone is really good at some things, and not so good in others. You have something about you thats great. That doesn’t make you better, or the best, it makes you who you are.
Get rid of the notion that you need to be the best. The best is a disease. Take your time. Go slow. Find yourself. You’ll then realize the best is already in you.
This video was a requirement for a job opportunity I didn’t get, so I will be sharing it here. This is my attempt at talking about what I go through. It’s a bit vague and short, but liberating. It’s easier for me to write about what I go through than talk about it. Sometimes I can’t find the words to speak, but I can write them down. Sometimes I can create a quote or a poem, but I can’t blatantly talk about the struggles I go through. This is the first of many videos I hope to make in the future. The video quality isn’t great and it’s a bit choppy, but this is new for me. Hope you enjoy.
This is me being open and honest about my depression and anxiety. This is me not pushing my struggles under the rug or declaring what I have isn’t real. This is me facing my monsters. This is me putting myself out in the open. This is me healing.
I was lost
For a little while
I was broken by the big vision and the big dreams
I didn’t think I can do it…
I was lost from the notion that I wasn’t getting anyway
That the road was too narrow and me, too big…I got tired
But im back again
To fight some more…
I don’t want to be lost anymore
It’s been a tiring, difficult couple months. First time after college having to actively try to live and explain to people why your health is important and why you have to actually take care of yourself. Its difficult putting into words how in the past overworking and overwhelming yourself lead to almost getting pushed over the edge with just a tiny hint of thoughts and images of what it would be like not to be alive. How it would be a miracle to ask for help or ask for someone to show some type of sympathy because you don’t feel as crazy as you did before. How seeing that your well being is not important in the slightest to anyone else so you have to put your well being first and yell from the top of your lungs that your life matters.
It’s been so tiring having to explain that you just want to be able to manage life just a little, to feel happy just a little, and to feel peace just a little because every day of your life has been a war. You just want a break. Just one break.