Poet's Well-being Journal

[Poet]

"That’s the great discovery...
We’re really unimportant after all."
- The Nature of Consciousness

Is this a truly ‘great discovery’, per se? Even a ‘discovery’ after all? We all know, deep down inside, that we are unimportant in the scheme of things. Worthless in the world’s pattern of new life to old death. A never-ending dance of the Fates. Forbidden lovers, where Life cheats Death but in the end gives her all.
Sounds like a story, doesn’t it.

But still we mean something to each other. Like ants making a bridge with their bodies over a bottomless pit, branching out and clinging onto each other for support before we can make it to the other side. But if one falls, do we all collapse? Like pulling one block out from beneath the tower. And what then? What does the bottomless pit entail? How far can we really fall? Because no pit is truly bottomless. No matter how deep, or wide, or vast, our world is finite. Space itself, the universe we live in, is said to have borders. Borders that will eventually shrink and crush us.

There is no such thing as limitless. We are caged by the lives we live and the world we live in, boxed in by weak bodies and weaker minds. Minds that go insane thinking about our finite world and finite lives.

Our unimportance in the vast idea that is mortality.
Mortality.
Mortal.
We are mortal.

And yet, is mortality not a human name for something so inhuman, but still a part of us?

Just something I’ve been thinking about.

[Poet]

Life is a masquerade.
A ball in which we dance, with glittering masks and hidden features - both physical and emotional.
We school our faces into a smile, we place makeup on our lashes and cheeks. We use confidence as a barrier, insults as a wall. We guard our hearts from hurt, but in doing so, we may cut ourselves off from the rest of the world.
Our whole society is a masquerade. A place without trust, because everyone is too afraid to take off their masks.

Everyone wonders how they will be judged if they do show their true faces. Because vulnerability is a terrifying thing.

Sometimes, vulnerability is seen as negative. To be vulnerable is to be without protection, open to hurt and struggles. Fragile. Weak. Invulnerability is seen as a superpower – to be untouchable, unhurt-able. But if we were invulnerable, what would we gain through the experience of pain and hurt? What would we know of sympathy and empathy, compromise and care?
So we stay vulnerable, our masks carefully placed. Today, I wear no mask. But tomorrow, out in the world, there will be a different story.

Tomorrow, I will wear my Mask of Confidence. Tomorrow, I will wear my Mask of Happiness and Innocence. Tomorrow, I will wear the Mask of What I Once Was. But right now I’m just me. And if I’m completely honest, I hate what I see. But sometimes, vulnerability is a skill we need to learn how to wield, instead of a weakness we feel the need to hide.
Because our vulnerability is what makes us human. Without it, where would we be?

... What if I'm wrong?
Does everyone wear masks, or do I just feel like they do?
What makes me feel like putting one on when I wake up in the morning?

I hate Mondays.
edit: Monday tomorrow, when I'm forced to put my mask in place again. I've got to do P.E. sprint tests as data for our next SAC, and to be honest I'm panicking slightly. I rearranged it with my teacher so that I could do it without the other students around, but that doesn’t stop my heart from racing. What if I embarrass myself? How am I meant to do this without making my heel flare up again (old injury)?  Why do I feel like I don’t belong here? Will he judge me for my results? Why do I question everything so much? Why can’t I stop thinking?
I don’t know if I can manage school tomorrow. I’ll try, but sometimes getting up in the morning is just too hard.

You know how they say that people who've done bad things shouldn't be able to sleep at night?
Well, I want to know what I did.

[Poet]

Got through Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And today.
Just one more day. Then the weekend.

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise
Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies.
Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light.
- The Chain, Fleetwood Mac

The Rumour (haha, see what I did there, all you Fleet peeps) is that Stevie Nicks, a lead singer of the band Fleetwood Mac, wrote this song about her lover, Stephen Buckingham, as their relationship deteriorated. In a fascinating and mysterious twist of events, this ended up being the song that kept them together as a band and increased their fame. Nicks and Buckingham share the lead vocals all throughout the song, basically cursing each other every time they sing it.

Why is that? It’s like they want to hurt each other, but they still have that toxic bond. “And I still hear you saying, we will never break the chain”.
In actuality, the song morphed into a symbol for the spirit and the strong bond that the band had, despite their innumerable differences in opinion and style. They didn’t really ever understand each other, but they still had a bond. “Chain keep us together, running in the shadow”.

Talking to someone yesterday, I was asking how they felt when everything seemed to go terribly in one day. They replied that they know the feeling, but it must be “worse for [me], with mental illness to tackle and what not” and I realised something – I’m so used to the way I feel all the time, I literally just assume everyone else feels the same way.
Don’t know why this was such a shocking revelation – that I have basically been treating everyone like I would treat myself – but I realised that a lot of the isolation and hostility I’m experiencing is probably due to my own treatment of people around me. I haven’t been meaning to, but moping around with my hood up and sitting in the library, not talking, never opening up to people, really affects how people treat me in turn. I leave them alone out of respect for their space, as I want for myself, but maybe they see it as hostility.
Just something I think I should try and change.

I guess you could call it an epiphany.

“Now here you go again, you say
You want your freedom
Well who am I to keep you down
It's only right that you should
Play the way you feel it
But listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness
Like a heartbeat drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering what you had
And what you lost, and what you had, and what you lost”
- Dreams, Fleetwood Mac

[Poet]

I’m so, so tired.

Biology is hard. Too much information to fit into my stupid blonde head. Not even proper blonde. It’s a stupid, thick, corny, dirty yellow. Why couldn’t I have normal hair? Not even my hair is acceptable to society.

I didn’t go to math class all week, and now I’m so behind I don’t know if I’ll be able to catch up, ever.
My grandparents are over for the weekend. They came down from NSW. My grandfather just got oat slice crumbs all over my diagrams and now there’s grease stains on the middle of my Helper T Cell.

My grandmother wants to know what I want to do with the rest of my life. She doesn’t believe me when I say ‘I don’t know’. She just says, ‘you’ll be like your aunty’.

I don’t want to be my aunty. I want to be me. But nobody just accepts me for who I am as a person. They all expect something from me that isn’t… me.

Why is me as me so damn terrible??

I have no motivation for anything.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.

Me:

[Poet]

I’m in a fantastically self-destructive mood today.
I don’t know why, but it’s like I can’t just be sensible, like I want to start fights, which isn’t… me. There’s something wrong with that.
 I guess I’m disappointed in my Legal marks (I got a 70%), and I’m really angry at myself. I have a habit of beating myself up over every little thing I do wrong, and this is a huge disappointment for me after consistent 90%’s all of last year. I feel like I’m letting myself down in everything, but I work as hard as I can and I just can’t seem to pick myself up. In work, school, relationships… I’m a letdown wherever I go, and I can’t seem to stop the negative thoughts, going round and round in my head. Like some demon has picked up my metaphorical hand and decided to play the “why are you hitting yourself? Stop hitting yourself” game. Except I’m beating myself up with my own thoughts.

Again, and again, and again.

I’m a full chapter behind in math, and I’ve been avoiding classes. I’ve been at school, but I’ve been skipping, which is shameful and the completely incorrect course of action, but I just… don’t know. My life is falling apart. My masks are slipping. Why now, after all this time?
Why did you have to break now?

I don’t know what to do when my math SAC comes up. My attendance has… well, let’s just say it’s gone down a little. Teachers are all asking if I’m okay. I feel like they’re giving up on me. I’m giving up on myself. I don’t know. Right now, I just feel like snapping at everyone, like a feral dog. But I don’t do that. I know I’m a 'bottler' - definitely not a 'spewer' when it comes to emotion, at least in real life - so I’m just confused as to why I feel so aggressive right now. No, not aggressive.
Scared. I'm terrified.

I fear I’m going to do something rash tonight, like cut my hair off or start drawing on the walls or something else stupid I’ll regret in the morning. I can't control myself. My head feels like it’s about to explode. My resting heart rate is currently 96 bpm and rising. I just counted it. My fingers are non-stop twitching. I have so much work, but I need a break. I need to breathe. I need to draw and feel the resistance of a pen against paper until it breaks through. I need to scream until my throat is raw. I need to get out of this cage as the panic sets in.

I keep telling myself, “six more months, only six more months” but that little voice in my head is yelling, telling me I won’t make it. Six months is too long a time to be locked in here. That I’ll fail anyway. I’m an idiot, and idiots never get anywhere in life, no matter how hard I work for it. I’ll never get where I want. Dreams are not reality. Am I dreaming? No.

I think it’s my anxiety this time. I’m just clawing at the walls as they’re closing in around me. An astronaut on the ocean floor. A bird with a broken wing. So far from where I belong, so deep I don’t even know where I belonged in the first place. I’m panicking for no reason. I know it. And I can’t stop. I want to stop but I can’t stop I can’t stop I can’t stop I can’t stop I can’t stop.

I’ve made an appointment with my psych this Wednesday.
I should probably try and move it to tomorrow.
We’re discussing medication.
God help me, I think I need it. And I hate that. So. Much.

Now 112 bpm.
I'm breathing, I am. I'm grounding and breathing and focusing on my breaths. In and out.
If anyone else relates to this right now, you need to talk to someone. Fix it.
It's taken a lot to post this. But I feel like someone might read this and know that someone else feels the same way. Sometimes, that's first step on the road of recovery.
I'm sorry, everyone.

[heids]

This sounds like a severe anxiety attack, perhaps panic attack.  But such a sterile phrase can't convey the terror and the agony...

I know that sense that you need to tear yourself to shreds from the inside out, claw that horrific something out of you, but you can't... you need to scream for seventeen years or tear out your eyeballs or smash everything you can find.  It's terrifying.  I've been there often enough, and waiting for it to pass is the only way for me.  Plus meds, but I'm rarely in a state to think of them when it's that bad.  I'm so sorry you're going through it, it's basically unbearable.

There's a bunch of things I do that help sometimes:

- Exercising. Hard. Hard hard hard.  Running as fast and hard as you can till you're utterly exhausted. Jumping up and down on the spot as hard as you fucking can, as if you're trying to destroy the floor. This mainly works if you can get out of the house.

- Screaming into a pillow, punching pillow. For a long time.

- Going out somewhere empty, a park for instance, and yelling and screaming some of the shit you need to get out of your system.

- Tearing up an old phone book.  Better that than your body.

Also, trying to stop panicking reaaaaaaally doesn't work, it escalates things... I often get into a cycle of panicking about panic, which is how anxiety attacks tend to turn into panic attacks for me.

Sending hugs, hugs and more hugs <3

Oh yeah, and fantastic that you're getting help with meds.  There's no shame if they're able to help you.  No shame.

[Poet]

Thank you, Heidi. You are sooo appreciated. <3
I went for a run on my poor, broken Achilles. It helped. Then I started drawing again.
I've begun making more time for myself, and I've been feeling a little happier, much less ragged, as a result.
Still confused and frustrated with my work and angry at myself for skipping classes, but little steps are sometimes the best kind.
Disclaimer: This is not a rant against religion. This is my experience with religion, and how I feel as a consequence. I support and encourage those who decide to follow a religion to go for it – be happy, and believe what you wish. Same to those who do not wish to pursue religion.
Just be cautious of who you pursue it with.

” I found God on the corner of First in Amistad
Where the west was all but won
All alone
Smoking his last cigarette
I said ‘where you been?’
He said, ask anything

Where were you
When everything was falling apart?
All my days
Spent by the telephone
That never rang
And all I needed was a call
That never came
From the corner of First and Amistad”

I’ve always connected with this song, You Found Me, from the first time I heard it. The Fray so completely captures the helpless, angry feeling when you rely on something and it never comes, or comes too late. For me, that was a God.

I’ve been struggling for years, wondering if the Being I was raised to praise and believe in and place my heart, my soul, my everything in was there for me. I read through my Bible again and again. I prayed and remembered not to swear and was kind to my neighbors and got through shit because I was a little trooper – I was a child of God, and in Him, “nothing is impossible”.
But after that, after years of neglect and things a child should never go through, I began to shake off the daze. I realized what had been happening to me, that some of the leaders in my church, people I thought could be trusted, had known about and done nothing to fix.
It wasn’t just me suffering, either. It’s the whole world.

I have never, even to this day, been able to leave the religious community. My family are strong Christians. I go to a Christian school. My friends are religious, and strongly so. My teachers, my mentors, the people I look up to. I feel so isolated, the black sheep of the family. They’re ashamed of me, and as a result I feel ashamed of myself. They make me pretend to pray every morning in front of my siblings so that I don’t, and I quote, “corrupt them”. Does this mean I myself am corrupt?

I clearly remember that one day, the day I realized that, in other countries, children were being shot through the head for no reason, fighting another man’s war for him. In my country, families were being murdered. Forests cut down in man’s quest for self-extinction. People’s babies being driven into lakes and left to drown, thrown off bridges in a spouse’s petty revenge plot. Mothers and fathers who hate their children. Bloody fights and murder and sickness and rape. Manipulation and corruption, everywhere. That day broke me. Realising that what I had believed ‘normal’ was wrong. Realising that the God I believed was doing good in creating mankind was wrong, and later, the realization that He was never there at all, in my life anyway.

I’m so confused about so many things, and this is just one of them. Do I accuse a God, or deny His existence? And how can I deny His existence when I have no proof of anything? What if I’m wrong? And why, why can’t I stop thinking??
And once again, there goes my little spiral.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.

“Early morning
City breaks
I've been calling
For years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
You never send me no letters
You got some kind of nerve
Taking all I want

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Where were you? Where were you?”

Heal, Tom Odell

[Poet]

Feeling very... vague. Skip to paragraph 3 for the actual stuff.
I’m in ramble mode. Is that okay?

So, I got new tights for school and they’re this really weird slick material, but it feels really nice to run your hands up and down. I was sitting the library today running my hands up and down my legs (while studying, mind you) because the tights felt strange, and kids were giving me really weird looks. Especially when I got my year 11 (male) friend to feel my tights as well, it was pretty funny actually. Like, what would they think was going on without knowing what I was saying? Heh.

So, hello. That was a random thing to start off with, but hey, it’s my journal. I do what I want.

It was photo day at our school today, and my warped sense of self-worth makes that basically the *worst* day in the year, second only to the day we receive our photos. I know I’m not beautiful to start with, but having a permanent image taken of my face that will be plastered on a large screen at graduation this year is just… the worst idea. Torture. I’m mortified already. And this is beside the fact that I’m up the back with the boys, because I’m freaking tall and they’re all annoyed about it because their self-esteem can’t handle a girl being taller than them. Also I don’t know how to use makeup so didn’t have anything to cover up any spots.

I have a maths SAC on Financial Modelling tomorrow, and I’m stressed about that, but on the weekend I decided to drop everything and give myself a Mental Health Day (a.k.a. screw it, I’m going for a walk) and went for a walk. Traversed the Dandenongs for about 2 hours and then came back home, then said ‘screw it, I’m going to the movies’ and went to the movies to watch Infinity War. Completely wrecked because all of my favourite characters died  so I came home and struggled over work a little bit. Then I went to bed.

The thing is, sleep has been elusive as of late (late being early in the morning). Like I’m so conscious of the time ticking by my body is scared it'll miss something. I’m sort of the opposite of strawberries - I do everything I can – I don’t look at screens, don’t eat at least an hour before I go to bed. I listen to quiet music and draw mindless patterns. I read a book or hum a tune to myself as I lie there, for hours and hours, helpless as to why I can’t seem to close my eyes. I do breathing exercises and meditate. And then, when I finally go to sleep, I wake up at obscure times and find myself full of thoughts and ideas and stories and things that I’m too tired to act upon, which makes me angry at myself which keeps me up more. I don’t know. I’m exhausted but also not at the same time. Like I drank litres of coffee but it’s not making me jiggle on the outside - just in my head.
My mind is still telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t belong, but the voice is a lot more passive when I’m tired. Instead of the usual, “You’re a piece of shit go die!!” it’s more like, “Huh. Look at that. I told you you’re a piece of shit. Wanna go die now?”
Did I tell you my maths SAC is tomorrow? So, yes.

On the upside, I will have one less maths SAC. One more day gone.
One step.
And another.
One foot in front of the other.
Fighting an uphill battle, but I’ll make it.
I will. Just as long as I can figure out how to sleep.

[turinturambar]

I have never, even to this day, been able to leave the religious community. My family are strong Christians. I go to a Christian school. My friends are religious, and strongly so. My teachers, my mentors, the people I look up to. I feel so isolated, the black sheep of the family. They’re ashamed of me, and as a result I feel ashamed of myself. They make me pretend to pray every morning in front of my siblings so that I don’t, and I quote, “corrupt them”. Does this mean I myself am corrupt?

This deserves saying more strongly than I can say it, but hopefully you already know: No, you are not corrupt.  Your posts show you to be kind, caring, and given to thinking deeply about problems. And that means you have found problems with the idea of God that your parents won't or can't see.  And I think it is unlikely that you will be able to think or pray your way out of those problems.

This is how I come to terms with indoctrination: Usually, parents want the best for their children. And if they are strongly religious, that means they want their children to be equally strongly religious.  This also means that they don't want any of their children who have left the chosen path to influence their siblings.  I am quite sure my parents think I corrupt my siblings - I try to be respectful, but there are things that I've seen in the Bible and in the world that I can't unsee.  And at some point you have to live with the world as you see it, not with the world as others would like you to see it, however well meaning.

I clearly remember that one day, the day I realized that, in other countries, children were being shot through the head for no reason, fighting another man’s war for him. In my country, families were being murdered. Forests cut down in man’s quest for self-extinction. People’s babies being driven into lakes and left to drown, thrown off bridges in a spouse’s petty revenge plot. Mothers and fathers who hate their children. Bloody fights and murder and sickness and rape. Manipulation and corruption, everywhere. That day broke me. Realising that what I had believed ‘normal’ was wrong. Realising that the God I believed was doing good in creating mankind was wrong, and later, the realization that He was never there at all, in my life anyway.

It's a hard realisation, when everything in the world suddenly stops making sense.  It may not make it easier, but hopefully it's encouraging to know that lots of other people have gone through the same thoughts, and that you are not alone.

I’m so confused about so many things, and this is just one of them. Do I accuse a God, or deny His existence? And how can I deny His existence when I have no proof of anything?

Again, I'm not sure whether this will be helpful or not, but here's my take on it: You have been brought up believing the Christian God, a God who cares for each and every one of his followers, and sometimes intervenes on their behalf, and who has a plan for everyone's life.  Now, you can't see any sign that this God was ever there in your life.  That is probably sufficient reason for rejecting that particular God - either he is not there, or he doesn't keep his promises.  Christians will probably deny this, but I think it's valid.  And I think this reasoning goes beyond your life to the world: This world makes sense as a world where that particular God doesn't exist.

The general case is harder, because there are so many different concepts of God around, and it's difficult to investigate and dismiss them all.  However, I'm not sure how much it matters: If you think it's unlikely that a God exists that interacts positively with the world, does it matter whether such a God created the universe 6,000 / 13 billion years ago?  Personally, I'm happy to live my life my own way as if no god exists, because I don't see any evidence of a god.  And if there is a just God, surely it would be unreasonable for that God to create you with a questioning mind and then expect you to ignore the evidence you discover?

Sorry, that went on long, but I hope it's helpful.  Basically, it's a difficult situation all round, but I want you to know it's not your fault and you're not alone.
And I hope your maths SAC goes well.

[Poet]

-snip-

@turinturambar, thank you.

General update:

Headaches.
That’s the word of the year, isn’t it? H-E-A-D-A-C-H-E-S. What a gross word. What’s the ‘ch’ for, anyway? It’s not even doing what it’s meant to. Stupid headaches.
My psych is away for two more weeks, so I’ve been dealing with myself by… myself. Doing my own CBT, really. I have a bunch of sheets to work through about emotional wellbeing and breathing exercises and all that. It’s really hard though, because I’m so stressed about my work I don’t really have that much time to do that sort of thing, and then I feel bad about not doing it and it’s just a cycle of misunderstanding and self-hate. Turning and turning in the tightening gyre. Thanks, John Green.

Had a bit of a breakdown on Friday and basically skipped class all through the middle of the day. Lay on the floor and curled up in a ball, just barely holding in a scream of frustration and anger and sadness. Like I’m doing now. I feel like the world is just piling problems on my head, and on everyone else’s head. Term 2 is such a drag. Like I’ve had chains of bricks wrapped around my limbs and mind. Another drawing idea, here we go. I’ve drafted my fortnightly drawing three times and scrapped it three times. Turning and turning in the widening gyre. Thanks, Yeats.

The masks are still on. At home in front of my family, at work in front of my bosses and customers, at school in front of my teachers, friends, and cohort. I’m sick right now and I’m trying to study for my P.E. SAC tomorrow, but the world is blurry and I can’t shake it off no matter how hard I try. I can feel myself getting a fever right now, and it’s really frustrating. I’m really frustrating. Life is really frustrating. People and school and siblings and relationships and work and sleep and nightmares and Aphenphosmphobia and Philophobia and doctor referrals and medication and pain and the progression of time and the depth of the sky and things people should never have to deal with at the tender age of 18, or any age.
Life is a complicated waltz.
It’s a dance, and I suck at dancing.

There you go
We're running far away
I can't catch my breath
I can't make you stay

And it all goes slow
I'm holding your face in my hands
and I know
You couldn't see what I saw
In my head

[Poet]

Hey all, anyone spontaneously decide to clean their windows last night? I was a bit of a rebel and ate olives instead of grapes in my salad.

Any-who, this week’s been pretty crazy. My home internet is broken, I had a Bio SAC Tuesday, GAT Wednesday, Legal SAC this morning and I’ve got my English creative on Monday. And I’m really sorry if any of my posts seem short or insensitive, I just have noooo time. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, AN.

Speaking of love, I’m in therapy for my amazing phobias and stuff haha. My psych came back early so I had another session with her (yay). I let my Dad hug me a couple nights ago for the first time in more than a year, which was nerve-wracking for zero reason. I kind of have panic attacks when my parents want to touch me, and I’ve never known why. I can deal with my bosses and a couple friends, but some people I’m genuinely scared of, in the sense of physical contact. Very inconvenient. Like, shaking hands can be terrifying, and then I start sweating, and then I think about the sweat and that means I can’t stop sweating even when I’m trying to stop so it’s awkward and gross as well as terrifying. (I’m so eternally sorry about that, Nick.)

There’s two weeks left in Term 2, and we are steadily plodding along. Well, it’s really more of an undignified scramble, but we’re getting there. Clawing our way ever up the mountain. We are 4 ½ months away from the peak.
My mental health is still down the damn drain, but my marks have been increasing, mostly. I’m rank 6 in P.E and Legal studies. Rank ~10 in English. Average in Biology. And the surprise of the century – rank 12 or thereabouts in maths, where I got almost top of the class in both of the Financial SACs. Ironic, that I was going to drop it and as soon as I made one last push I supported Murphy’s Law. But after a lengthy conversation with my teacher and the careers counsellor, we’ve decided I should keep it fully. So, definitely doing Maths until the last exams.

I hope y’all are doing alright, too. We’re almost to holidays.

Keep moving forward.

[Poet]

And after the maths Bradbury...

This is a good excuse to use my favourite gif


Hello, to my second family.
Last couple of weeks before holidays, and before lectures – can’t wait to see people there. It’ll be cool beans, and the brief respite from school will give us all time to catch up on stuff.
Might not talk much, though. Talking has been a pretty huge struggle. Like, my mind has been so loud there’s been no room for actual speech.

Mentally, I’ve been progressively getting worse. I finished my last SAC two days ago and so even though I have more Unit 4 work and I should’ve felt some form of relief, I just haven’t been able to be happy. I feel so worthless, and there’s been a lot more fighting with myself and thoughts I should probably not talk about here. My psych told me last night that I’m now a ‘high-risk’ patient, so I’m being constantly monitored and I have appointments getting decided with a bunch of psychiatrists and GPs. We’re definitely going forward with the medication within the month. I’m still sort of scared, but I’m also just tired of fighting.
It’s been three years and I just can’t control my thoughts anymore. Things I tried to make me happy don’t give me pleasure anymore. I’m having panic attacks a lot and eating makes me feel sick. My hands shake after every panic attack for a couple hours. Everything is an effort. Typing this out right now is really difficult. I haven't done any work for TWO WHOLE DAYS. I still look forward to things, but so much of the time everything just feels so far away. Depression just feels like forever, you know?

It’s frustrating, because I know that logically this will be temporary. But emotionally, everything in me screams that there’s no way out. There will never be a way out. That I should give up. I’m not, though. I’m confused and scared but I know what it feels like to be happy, and I want to know that feeling again. So, I’m just hoping I can make it.
So, see you at the lectures.

I'll be going on a brief hiatus over the holidays (a la broken internet), so my next entry here with be in about a month - 5 weeks. I'll be around the forums spamming question threads for another week.

So thanks, AN. Bless your little intellectual souls.

[PhoenixxFire]

So, see you at the lectures.

You better come to the end of year lectures as well so I can actually meet you (or J41 could organise another meet up before then )

memes because I’m mostly incapable of expressing emotions

[Poet]

Hi again errybuddy,
I’m still here! I know, right? Looks like I managed to fix the internet before holidays! (Had to replace the router, jiggle with the VPN and do some other fun stuff, but it was definitely worth it to be here 💜)

I got my psychiatrist appointment set for this Thursday. Pretty surreal, being the one looking out of the window in this situation instead of being the one looking in. I mean, I’ve seen other people go through this, and always just assumed that I would get better without help. A point of pride, I guess. I refused help for years before I realised I just couldn’t fight myself on my own. The pride is something everyone finds difficult to push down, even when they know that this is probably best for them. We want to feel like we’re independent. We don’t want to be classified as ‘sick’ or pushed into a weird mental stigma. It’s this fear that prevents a lot of people from just getting help. And I need to keep reminding myself that what’s happened to me, why I feel the way I do, is not my fault. It makes life damn hard and those steps so much steeper, but I, we, need to remember that we’re not alone. We can fight and we can get there in the end.
Being awarded MotM for June was a huge shock. I wasn’t expecting it at all - I still don’t feel like I deserve it. Looking out at the community we have here on AN, I can see so many beautiful, intelligent people who would deserve it more than me. So I’m rooting for you next round, people!
My psych hates the whole “I’m inferior” thought patterns, but genuinely, you guys are amazing.

Speaking of the lady, she wants me to spend a bit of time every night trying to think about the positives. So, here goes:

- Going to the English (is it English tomorrow? I’m at English, Legal and Bio #3)  lecture, and I’m excited to learn and consolidate! Went to the Access lectures today and yesterday, and you know, they weren’t as good as ATAR Notes ones even though they cost $48 a session... 😉
- When my cat was a kitten, I trained her to say hello by meowing like “meow-meow” so 8 years down the track and when she wants something she still says hello to me. At 3:30 AM. I love her so much.
- I got a new book today- Warbreaker by Brandon Sanderson, my favourite author.
- I managed to shower for the first time in 5 days. I know that sounds gross because it is, but being depressed can really mess with hygiene. Like, a lot..
- I had an HSP for lunch, because formal was on Saturday and who cares about fitting into that dress anymore?
- Got passion fruit and hibiscus tea; super sweet but damn it’s happiness in a cup
- Friends. Including y’all.

So when you’re feeling down, what are your positives? Try making a small list every night. It can help when you feel anxious or overwhelmed. Remember what you love, and what loves you.

This is a bit of a confused entry, but I hope the positives stand out.
Love you, AN. 💙

[Poet]

Dear teenagers on Platform 2. I have a question for you about... Thumbs.
What are they? Fingers. Opposable fingers, right? But they’re not fingers, because they’re thumbs. 8 fingers, 2 thumbs. That’s the rule. Thumbs were destined to be the odd ones out, all the time. The other fingers, they can stick together. But the thumb? It goes solo. Not out of choice, but out of necessity. Thumbs are what complete the hand. They hold things in place. But that doesn’t mean they’re appreciated, does it? Sometimes, the thumb isn’t considered. Taken for granted.
It makes me angry to see the thumbs of the world just shoved aside like they mean nothing. That lady scrubbing the public toilet? She’s a thumb. That faceless man picking up your rubbish at 5 in the morning? He’s a thumb.
Those invisible, silent people, working to sustain our personal bubbles for more mockery than money? These are the thumbs. To see a person abused because they are working in some place others don’t seem to appreciate is unacceptable. It’s not okay to abuse others, ever. Especially when they’re the ones you can thank for keeping the maintenance running, the toilets somewhat clean and drug-free, and our lives that little bit more bearable. So, excuse me, teenagers on platform 2, next time you feel like insulting someone because they’re keeping your train system running, why don’t you try their job and start scrubbing the public toilets for them?

Respect the thumbs, because without them, the rest of the hand is crippled.

Bitches.
... //endvent
Whew. (I think I actually scared them by walking up and telling them what I thought in a much less eloquent fashion lmao)

________________________________________________________

Short update:
- Started medication yesterday. I now realise why they gave me sleeping pills too, lol (guess who was up bouncing off the walls last night?)
- Terrified by the sheer amount of numbers in Karly's lecture. Also, get better soon, Karly!
- Meeting up with Calebark and insanipi was great. Also saw some old/new friends. hi Ken and Phil <3
- I have sooo much energy rn - not sure if it's residual nervous energy or not but damn this stuff is INSANE
- I do believe that, out of the listed side effects of this medication, I am currently experiencing restlessness ("common in seniors", apparently...) and loss of appetite. I have eaten a handful of almonds and a tiiiny bite of pizza today and I legit have enough energy to run through WALLLSSS
- Still love you guys. <3