Screaming in Silence

It feels like you’re screaming in silence

Drowning in air

Like you are sinking in slow motion

But you’re not really there

You have no voice

Except the ones in your head

You wish for silence

But once granted

You wish for noise instead

You’ve forgotten how to feel

Except you know you feel empty

Your feelings trickling out

Through the whole in your belly

The tears on your face tell you you’re sad

Yet three little letters can’t epitomise the bad.

You sigh as you realise there’s no words in this world

That communicate the meaning you’re trying to tell

So you settle with depression

And prepare,

For the judging and assumptions

Of those who have not learnt

Than not all words have one meaning,

and not all meanings have words.

The Beginning

(a repsonse piece to my poem The End, see below)

They say that heartbreak is one of the worst things a person can experience, one of the most painful, I wonder if the people who say that have ever lost a best friend?  It’s a pretty common concept to come across, that the loss of a close friend is as bad as heartbreak, if not worse.  2019 was the year I felt that truth.

The moment you feel them slip between your fingers, the misunderstandings that leads you to drift apart makes your heart ache as you realise you are powerless to stop it. Even if you tried to make things go back to the way they were, they can’t. Not now.  People change, relationships change, but it doesn’t make it any less painful.  It’s a hard feeling to describe, because it’s akin to loss and grief, unless you’ve felt it you can’t know it, it’s not just mental it’s physical.  It’s the bottomless pit in your stomach, the lump in your throat, the tightness in your chest. The constant discomfort that reminds you you’re missing something, or someone.  Although that person may still be here, they’re not here for you, not anymore. 

It’s the unanswered questions that tear at you, running around in circles in your mind, chasing away sleep, making you relive painful memories shrouded in fog because you tried to shut it out, to deny it happened.  The how could you’s and the why’s?  The sheer agony of knowing that one day a person you were closest to in the whole world changed their perception of you so much, they stopped caring about your problems.  The moment they became so wrapped up in themselves they no longer saw you, the real you, the you you hid from everyone else for too long. The moment they decided that you weren’t close enough to resolve it, that you weren’t worth it. 

Worth. That’s what it truly comes down to.  The feeling that you weren’t enough for someone you wholeheartedly cared about, that you loved like family.  The knowledge that if you aren’t enough for them who are you enough for? If you failed them, then who else could want you?

It’s a deep feeling, it rips right through you and leaves you winded.  It’s hurt, wrapped up in agony wrapped up in anger, wrapped up in confusion, wrapped up in self-hatred and doubt.

It’s human.

To lose two good friends in the space of a couple of months made me feel like I was drowning, like everything I had accomplished, everything I had gotten through had been for nothing, because what was the point if there was no one to share the happiness with?  The point was I learnt a lot about people, and about myself.  I learnt that, although friends help you so much through all the shit we have to deal with in life, ultimately, it’s myself I have to rely on, to believe in.  I learnt that self-love was the thing that was going to make me strong. 

Even more so, I learnt that the friends I had been looking for, for what’s felt like my whole life, were right in front of me the whole time, and it took losing the people I thought I needed to see the ones that really cared about me.  The friends that would always fight for me, and me for them too.

It wasn’t the end at all, it was the beginning.

Liv.

Sleep

Some people probably never struggle with sleep, some people are blessed with being able to drift off, no problem, no worries.  I have never been that person.  For as long as I can remember I have hated bedtime, the idea of getting into bed and doing nothing until you drift off into dreams which inevitably turn into nightmares, is a stress I deal with most days. 

For such a long time a discontentedness with my life, with myself as a person, meant prolonged periods of time alone with my thoughts became a kind of torture, where thoughts of self-hatred and worthlessness would run rampant.  I was afraid of being alone because I was afraid of myself, and that led to a fear of night-time, when there was no distraction from the parts of myself I truly hated.  So, to keep from actually thinking, I’d do pretty much anything, watch movies, scroll through social media, even make up stories and mini movies just to keep my mind from everything that threatened to consume me.

When I eventually did fall asleep it wouldn’t exactly be a peaceful affair.  I have incredibly vivid dreams, purely products of anxiety.  I’d often wake up with my heart racing and feeling incredibly stressed and anxious for no apparent reason.  Sometimes, this would lead to panic attacks in the middle of the night.  The dreams would feel so real I began to confuse things that had happened in dreams with real life, probably due to utter exhaustion, it felt as if I was losing my grip on reality, as if I was going insane, everything was spinning out of control.  It was terrifying and I felt so ashamed to be struggling like this when it seemed that all my friends had their lives perfectly together.  It made me hide away from the truth, and stopped me from seeking help or talking to anyone about the root reasons for not being able to sleep.  Shame stopped me from getting better. 

My sleep issue were, and still are, related to stress, anxiety and worry about things going on in my life and things that have happened in the past.  It is as if all those things I wish I could forget come back to haunt me in horrific clarity right when I’m trying to get sleep.  Before, it was shame, and an innate need to be seen as ‘perfect’, as not being phased by anything, which stopped me from talking to anyone.  Now though, I feel different, it’s taken almost exactly one year since I first spoke about my struggles to someone for me to get to this place.  A place where I’m free from shame, free to feel how I feel without needing to hide it. 

These things I’m dealing with, they are human problems and there is nothing unusual or shameful about that.  It took me almost five years to realise that, because this is something no one talked about when I was at school.  That’s why I have this blog, because fear of being judged held me back from having any kind of support network for such a long time, and now I’ve got past that, I wish I had done it so much sooner. 

Sleep still continues to be an issue for me, I had it under control for the better part of last year, but right now it’s as if I’m relapsing into old ways and I can’t control the thoughts and memories that come to me at night.  It’s easier now though, knowing I have people to talk to about those issues, friends that are willing to listen to the things that are still bothering me and keeping me up at night.  Talking was the first step for me, but I think an acceptance of the problem is the most important part of improving mental health issues, whether it be something as simple as insomnia or something more. 

Liv 🙂

A world without buildings

Imagine a world without buildings

A world where the grass is always green

A world where we don’t have to hide

Don’t feel the need to die

A world that isn’t about death

But life.

Imagine a world without buildings

A world without institutions

Without power

A world that isn’t about war

But peace.

A parallel universe we will never reach

Because extinction looms, doomed

to drown in our man-made creation

of buildings.  

By Liv.

(I wrote this sat in a cafe, sat in a seat by a floor to ceiling window staring out at the bright sunny day, with clear blue skies. Despite the pleasantness of the day, all I could think about was what a shame it was I couldn’t see the beauty of the world itself, because my view was so blocked by huge, grey, ugly buildings. So, my inspiration for humanities penchant of ruining the natural world inspired this poem)

2019 – it’s not an easy world

What a year 2019 was.  So many ups and downs, I learnt so much about people in that year.  I feel like the whole time I was on a long journey to finding the one thing I’ve always felt like I was missing.  A place I truly belonged. 

I went from thinking I’d found it early on in the year, to feeling like I’d lost it and the many low days that followed led to self-deprecating thoughts of being a failure, of being someone that wasn’t good enough or interesting enough for anyone.  Landing me right back where I’d started, in a place where I was beginning to accept that I would always be alone, that the only person I could really rely on was myself. But, like we all have to, I kept going, because when it comes to life, there really shouldn’t be any other option.

I built relationships back up again, refusing to give in to the temptation that it was perhaps oh so much easier to just embrace being alone.  I knew I could never be happy that way, I needed to keep trying until I found the people that got me, that could love me for who I am, baggage and all. 

In so many ways 2019 was the best year of my life, but also one of the most difficult.  I had achieved everything intellectually that at that point I wanted to.  I knew anything in the academic arena I could have done if I had gone for it, I had enough confidence in myself to know that when I was determined I could do it.  It wasn’t educationally that I felt inadequate.  It was in myself I didn’t feel enough.  I didn’t know who I was anymore, I had a complicated relationship with my Mum which neither of us wanted to revisit for fear it would make our relationship even worse, unsalvageable, and I felt like I didn’t have many close friendships that would look past the cracks and see that despite my mental struggles I wasn’t weak, I just needed a friend. 

I was scared of being misunderstood, of people assuming things that weren’t true, I was scared of being treated differently, like I was fragile, when in reality I was anything but that.  I was just tired of pretending all the time. 

2019 did that for me, it sent me searching for the thing I thought was out of reach.  It gave me a place in a world I had started to doubt was even made for me.  It gave me people that wouldn’t judge, people that understood how struggling felt and wanted to stand by my side rather than try to save me like some superior heroic figure.  It gave me people I could rely on, but also people I could laugh with.  2019 gave me back my relationship with my Mum, I worked through some of my biggest fears, and had conversations that I never thought I’d have the courage to do. 

Maybe it was the right time, the right age that meant I stopped being so afraid of what would happen if I was more open, if I became ‘real.’  I was always the girl at school that had to be perfect, have perfect clothes, perfect make-up, be talking to guys, have an exciting, adventurous life.  Perfection gets tiring.  Leaving and going to university I let go of that, I became a truer version of myself, and I struggled with friendships.  Then, I found the real friends, the ones that didn’t care about perfection, I found a place where I belonged. 

So many people struggle with friendships and home life, they feel like they are completely alone in the world, like no one could ever understand them.  It’s different for everyone of course, but loneliness I can understand, I think we’d be surprised by the amount of people that can.  Unfortunately, we are often our own biggest obstacle, and we have to overcome our own fears and insecurities, figure out who we are before we can tell other people, and expect them to accept us.  It’s not an easy world, it’s a judgemental one, but if all the lonely ones were to come together and form a friendship, I have a feeling we’d outnumber those that aren’t.  So, remember that the next time you feel alone, because in thinking that, you’re not really alone at all, and someday if you keep going long enough it will change, and someone will really see you for who you are.

Liv.

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You Are Not Alone

Everyone has ups and downs in their life, no one has it easy.  Even if you had it easy, you probably wouldn’t know it, you’d find a way to make the monotonous safety of your life an imprisoning boredom that you wish to escape from. 

We all go through it, and most of us come out the other side, but not all.  Some can’t, some get so low they can’t see the light anymore, or imagine their lives without the darkness.  It’s why we have to talk about it, regardless of whether what you went through was mental health related or not, we have to let go of the dangerous perception that the majority of people have perfect little lives with the closest of friends and amazing supportive families.  Life doesn’t always work like that, and nor should it, that’s normal, it’s just a shame most of us suffer through it alone before we make that realisation much further down the line. 

Perhaps if we were all a little more honest with each other and allowed ourselves to be a little more vulnerable, we could protect others from thinking that they are alone.  In reality, when you think that you are alone, that you are different, you’re probably just the same as every single other individual, that has been taught by society to keep up the mantra of ‘I’m fine’, even when we’re all crying on the inside. 

Liv.

Friendships

Is there a relationship more complicated?  I’ve always struggled to be close to people for fear of being hurt, for fear of being vulnerable.  The truth is though, you reach a new level of friendship when you open up to each other, and yeah that puts you in a vulnerable position but I guess it’s the point of a good relationship and being there for each other that makes it all worth it.

I think it’s just as hard as a breakup though, when it all goes wrong.  The loss of someone you were so close to, that you trusted with everything makes you question why you put yourself out there to be that vulnerable.  Makes you remember all the reasons you don’t get close to people, so that it’s easy to pull away, to defend yourself because you’re not emotionally involved.  After all, isn’t the only person you can really count on yourself?

But when you fall out with that person, how do you move on from it? I really have no idea, I’ve never been close enough to someone to end up being in this position before, so it’s a shame it has come to that now.  It just makes you wonder whether relying on anyone else was ever a good idea, when one misunderstanding sends every insecurity, every anxiety you’ve ever had tumbling down on top of you to the point that you wonder if this is what drowning feels like.  You can’t find you’re feet, can’t find purchase in anything.  Where you once felt more comfortable than anywhere else in the world, including home, you’re now unsure you belong all over again.  It makes you question whether things are ever going to settle.  Perhaps we just can’t rely on people.

That’s the mantra I always used to have, keep everything inside and pretend it’s fine and we’ll be alright.  It became we because it was more comforting that way, as if shifting to plural pronouns would trick my brain into thinking we weren’t just that lonely.  But maybe I always had it right to start with, maybe it’s other people that are more damaging and I was just protecting myself.

Maybe.

But then again, I think probably not.  I can’t deny that as complicated and as difficult as friendships are, when it’s good, it is beyond good.  The feeling that people have your back is so special, especially at uni when you don’t always have family to fall back on.  So, I guess it is worth it with the right people, because I’d hope they value the friendship highly enough, that small things can be risen above, and big things can be talked to solution.  Because, at the end of the day we all care about each other, and I hope that’s enough.

Liv xx

‘You only cry for help if you believe there’s help to cry for’

‘You only cry for help if you believe there’s help to cry for’ Wentworth Miller

I never understood the suggestion that mental health, depression, anxiety, feeling suicidal etc. are a cry for help or attention seeking in some way.  For me Wentworth Miller’s quote rings completely true, I felt that nobody could help me, so why would I reach out to anyone as the only thing I would gain from that would be becoming even more of an outsider than I already felt I was. 

It was more important to me to hide what was really going on, so that people would assume I was fine.  I wanted to deal with everything behind closed doors, hide my shame, hide what I thought was my failure.  I had always come across as the strong one, the one that was never phased by anything, I wanted people to continue to think that so badly it got to the point where I was almost living a double life.  The things that were going on in my head were concerning, and definitely suggested a need for help, but I just couldn’t.  I couldn’t admit that something was wrong that maybe I was mentally suffering, it would have been an acceptance of weakness for me, I wanted to believe that if I could just keep pretending that I was fine, that I would be.  Like some kind of strange Halo Effect. 

Needless to say that didn’t work, and I ended up eventually seeking help and talking to someone about the thoughts I was having.  This was after almost 5 years of struggling in silence, and even then it took me almost 6 months from having decided to talk to someone, to getting myself into that room.  Even now, I haven’t been able to muster up the courage to go back, even though a part of me desperately wants to.  I still struggle with those feelings of shame, of being a failure because my brain seems to slip into depressive thoughts so easily when all I want is to try and be positive.   That’s why I have this blog, it’s my outlet, my alternative to talking about it vocally, because that’s still such a difficult topic to broach. 

So, don’t assume that people who are struggling with mental battles are seeking attention in any capacity.  You don’t know how long they have been suffering, you don’t know how much courage it might have taken that person to simply get to where they are.

Be kind to all and you won’t mistake the good ones for the so few that are faking. 

Liv x

Panic and anxiety attacks

What are you doing, why are you here, they are going to judge you, what are you wearing, they are going to wonder where you’ve been, they’ll notice that you’ve been crying, they’ll notice you’re not eating, they’ll notice you are eating, you look a mess, you’re life’s a mess, why does everyone hate you, why do you have no friends, why are you lying to your friends, people think you have no friends, why do you smile when you want to cry, you have so much work to do, why are you so tired, you have no money, you’re an embarrassment, you’re stupid, no one will ever love you, you’ll be alone forever.

I think a lot of people wonder what it feels like to have a panic attack, I used to have them a lot in secondary school and 6th form, and I don’t think that I am exaggerating when I say that I often felt like I was dying.  The majority of mine happened in the middle of the night, usually when I was lying awake plagued by dark thoughts, consistently coming one after another, but feeling as though I couldn’t at all control where my mind was going, it often felt like I was losing my mind.  It was then it would usually start, I began to notice the early symptoms and I think that only served to make them worse as I would start to panic about having a panic attack, oh the joys of anxiety. 

It would usually start with feeling hot and cold at the same time, like my core was on fire but I was still freezing, then the pins and needles would set in, beginning in my hands and moving its way up my arms.  It was the frantic beating of my heart that would really scare me though, I felt like my entire body was jumping with its intense beat and rate, as though it felt my body was doomed much like my mind, and it was trying to escape.  When this sets in it is like nothing really makes sense anymore, I’m never fully aware of where I am, often trapped in the confusing thoughts of my mind.  I know once or twice the panic attacks led to hallucinations, almost like stress dreams but I was awake, the one I remember most distinctly was when I was convinced I had somehow pushed my Mum’s entire business off of a skyscraper, I promise it was scarier than it sounds. 

I never really worked out what exactly caused them, I know that I was very unhappy towards the end of school, and I’m sure that added with the stress, and the insecurity of my friendship group at the time, all contributed to it.  I can only be grateful that I rarely experience them now, or that they have filtered out into smaller anxiety attacks, which although are still unpleasant I find easier to manage, it’s more of a mind over matter situation for me now.  If I become afraid or anxious about something irrational, I know I just have to force myself to do it, force myself out of my comfort zone, even if I’ll hate myself for it for the moment, I know it’ll be fine in the end.  Sometimes, it’s just a case of taking myself out for a walk, putting on some upbeat music, so I can clear my head and put things in perspective, and remind myself that putting the bins out is not something to get anxious about.  That’s the thing I think most people forget, anxiety isn’t just about social situations, for some people, its not about that at all, sometimes it’s the most menial tasks that trigger you for no reason at all. 

At the end of the day though, we just have to do every little bit we can to try and overcome it, small victories to some people can be big for us, so as long as you’re doing your best, you’re doing enough. 

Liv

Is depression a symptom of society?

Everyone my age has experienced sadness, everyone in the world has experienced sadness, but when, at what point does that become depression?  I never know where the line is, if there even is one.  I’d hope for most people that’s a question they never have to ask, but I think that in our present climate that would be a naïve impression to have.  You might think me pessimistic, in fact I hope you do, because that probably means you’ve never suffered depression, but for me, I think most people have at some point in their lifetime. 

I was told once by a teacher at my secondary school, that everyone would experience depression at least once in their lifetime.  I remember being horrified that she could make such a claim in front of 15-year olds, little did I know I was on the brink of falling into that void myself. 

There has to be a reason, that we are all so discontent with lives that we should highly appreciate.  I happen to believe it is our relationship with the world around us.  Greed has the gotten the better of us, society was born to judge us, change us, alienate the real us.  When you feel like you can’t just be an unfiltered version of yourself, when you need to put on a pretence for the ‘social’ world, you lose the real you, and when you lose that part of yourself that makes up your identity, what do you become other than a blank slate for society to write on? With this brings its own problems, because society has no definition of perfection, it is riddled with contradictions and impossible standards that no one can attain in their real lives.  So where does that leave you?

It left me unfulfilled, uncertain, lost, without purpose, without passion.  I only wanted others to like me, but when you are in that position you aren’t living for yourselves but for other people, often strangers that can have no care for your true wellbeing. 

I tricked myself and everyone else into thinking that that was okay when really, I was at the lowest point of my life, and no one saw the signs, how could I have expected them to, when I didn’t even know myself well enough to see it?

The point is though, I did come to a realisation, that I didn’t want to live for other people, I wanted to have my own agenda, I wanted to be someone unique, something new, something no one else could be.  The simplest way of achieving that, was to become the person I always was under all the pretence, to become open about my feelings, about what I went through behind closed doors.  I set myself free from what I saw as the constraints of society, all the stigma, I told myself not to care about it.  That’s not an easy thing for anyone, and I have in no way achieved that completely, but although I still have bad days, and depressive ‘episodes’ I no longer feel ashamed, or feel I have to hide it. 

Liv x

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