Sleep

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Sleep can be such a difficult issue to handle when one’s going through depression or anxiety. From personal experience, first, it’s hard to fall asleep. Thoughts keep racing. Fears camp in your mind. After some time, the mind tires and I doze off. Phase Two, bad dreams. They just pop by and disturb the sleep you so difficultly attained. They take away the peace you had hoped sleep would bring. The final difficulty – is waking up from that sleep. Once you get used to just lying down, no matter how unpleasant, it just unfortunately feels like the safest option. Everything related to waking up is scary, and draining. Some days it feels impossible to get up. It’s so hard that even the physical body rejects the idea of waking up by aching all over and becoming heavy (amongst other things). This three-stage battle is fought every day. And I think we need to reward ourselves for being able to make through it. I don’t know yet what that reward is though.

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I need to write

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My therapist says I need to write to express my emotions. But when you feel emotionally numb most of the time and are unaware of what is making you “randomly” cry, head hurt, chest pain, body ache, feel dizzy, lose hope, then what are you to do? Should I focus on what’s bad or wrong in life, but that shit is there all the time and it comes and goes, and I have made (rational) peace with that. But I’ve tried everything else. So even though I don’t know how writing things down, things I already verbally rant about to others, will help, I will give it a try. Sidenote: how weird is it to come across your old posts and see the person you were, the things that affected you, how you thought etc. Not weird in a disgusting way. But weird like ‘huh, in.ter.es.ting’

The Ebbs and (Occasional) Flows

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APRIL

I am in pain. Could be worse though.

MAY

I feel like over the past months you have gradually been making me feel helpless, like a puppet who is doomed to lie at the corner of disaster.

JUNE

I got diagnosed for chronic depression. It’s a mixed sense of hope, relief, and worry.

JUNE

I go to you for a piece of solace

AUGUST

Walking over puddles

Carefully, one by one

Wishing I could fly through

On a dark rainy day

That’s what I hope for

As she walked further into the realms of reality, she understood how pretentious it is

And when you try to rise above, you realize the feet are tied to shackles that have being rusting for years

Confined in Uncertainty

What happens when you believe you can?

SEPTEMBER

I can’t take this anymore. I need therapy.

There’s a bully in my head,

Who won’t leave me to rest,

Or let me think about anything nice.

It stays there all the time uninvited,

Telling me how anything I do doesn’t cut it.

How do I stand up to the devil in me?

OCTOBER:

Get off the proverbial treadmill, and take a walk

Some days I feel like I am making significant progress, and some days I want to die.