I think I can now relate to how a druggy feel when craving a new fix. I need to hear your voice. To see you. To understand that we were once real, and that reality now is, that we are not. I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare and I can’t wake up. My brain is reasoning this must be a nightmare, because even I can’t be stupid enough to give up on us. On you. On myself. We weren’t picture perfect, but the perfect picture. Why did I let us go? And why didn’t you fight me? I thought we were more. 

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Mistakes, misery and melancholy 

I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have left him. I knew it when I did and I still know it now. Why did I then? Well to release him, of the burden of me. Because I know, I am not good enough for him, and I never would be. I am damaged, broken. But I wasn’t shattered, I wasn’t completely unglued until I left him. Now I am nothing. Small tiny fragments that will never stick together. Now I am sorrow. I am remorse. I am guilt. I am embarrassed. 

I should have put as much faith into us, as I did in you. 

Journal Entry #9

Dear world, 

It’s been a while. As I mentioned in the last journal entry, I was grieving. And I still am. I’ve been reflecting a lot about our break up, and if I’m being completely honest, I think it was always meant as a test. I know, I know, no healthy relationships tests their partners, but I honestly believe that was what I was doing when I wanted to break up. You have to understand, I was unhealthy in my dependency of him. I knew it. Everyone knew it. He literally saved my life in my dark periods, and his mere presence diminished the dark periods. But at one point I just wanted him to fight for us, not me – because he did a lot of that all the time – but fight for our relationship. I wanted him to show me, that he was with me, because he wanted to – because I was as important for his sanity and life as he was for me. I wanted him to prove that he wasn’t just with me, because he felt guilty about leaving me, that it wasn’t just because I have suicidal tendencies. But he let me go, so I guess that backfired, huh? And damn that hurts. 
xx El 

Journal Entry #8

Dear World,

I’m mourning. We were supposed to get married next week. That was the deal we made, the plan we’d been working towards from 6 months into our relationship until it all collapsed around us. Our fifth year anniversary as a couple was supposed to be spend making it legal. We were supposed to be trying for a baby. Instead I’m spending the week packing my stuff, relocating and unpacking a new chapter of my life. And eventhough it was my idea to break up, eventhough I’ve had 8 months worth of time to get used to the idea of leaving I’m mourning. I’m crying and I can’t seem to find the point in all of this.

I’ve never shied away from my feelings, and I thouroughly believe that if you are going to be doing something you need to put your all in it. I don’t halfass important things. So when I love I love with all my heart, and I loved him. I do still. And I know I’m not madly, deeply and irrevocably in love with him anymore, but he is my best friend, and he has been my whole support system for the past 5 years. So I still mourn. I mourn the love we lost, the love that turned into a friendship I appreciate with all my heart, I mourn the kids we would have had, the future we talked about and conjured for ourselves through countless of talks over the years. I mourn for the unconditional support I’ve lost with him and our relationship.

I also fear. I fear the unknown. I’m afraid of the uncertainty my future suddenly holds. I’m afraid of being alone. I’m afraid of ending up alone, because if I couldn’t make it work with him, my best friend, then I don’t see it happening with anyone else. I’m afraid that I never get to experience being a mom. That I never get to be a bride. I’m absolutely irrevocably terrified that I’ll never experience being happy. 


xx El

Journal entry #1

Dear world.

So it’s been a while.. I’ve been pretty preoccupied, and to be completely honest, I have a love/hate relationship with this whole blogging concept. I’ve always had a hard time separating personal from private thoughts, and when I write, I write with complete honesty.
In almost all “how to create a succesful blog” it is stated you need commitment and to be true to your expression. To be honest, I think my issue is, that I don’t know what my expression is. I’m not just one thing, one stereotype, one personality. I’ve never really been able to figure out whether this is common, but other people hide it better, or if it is a “side effect” of my “issues”. I think maybe we all contain contradictions, I know I’m a bundle of them. It gets confusing, because if I can’t commit to one personality, how am I to ever fit in anywhere? I remember one time being told that man created hell and the devil, because we weren’t able to understand good unless it was put into contrast with evil. That the human brain understand concepts on the basis of contradictions. I don’t know if this is true, and I won’t even go into the whole “does God exist” debate, people’s faith is there own, but if I just consider the whole human needs contradictions to understand concepts, I guess it would make sense, we are contradictions.

I finally started medication. Antidepressants. I fought against taking them for 12 years, scared to death, that I would loose myself, my emotions, my thoughts – me. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it yet. After taking the first pill it felt as if a fog lifted from my thoughts, and everything became a little more focused, but at the same time it felt as if all of me was pushed down, like a lid was shoved down over my emotions. Things I had buried years ago resurfaced and while they still aren’t pleasant to think about, I feel ready to deal with them now, and while this is amazing (especially if I can finally let go of some of these demons) I feel that this development might have something to do with me being unable to actually feel. It is as if I can see the emotion I am supposed to feel, I understand how it feels, but it doesn’t penetrate. And it honestly scares me to death.

So I thought it might be fun to list some of the contradictions I identify in myself, but then I realized I didn’t want to bias you guys. Maybe if we keep this up, you’ll be able to identify them.

xx El

Depression – what it feels like for me (1)

A lot of people have an opinion on depression. What I’ve noticed, is, that if people haven’t had personal experience with depression, they tend to believe it’s sort of “like having a bad day” and that most people with depression are just not good at handling bad days. Some people have even told me, that depression is a figment of my imagination, and that it isn’t really real. Well, it feels real to me. When my heart beats faster just with the thought of facing reality for another day, when I wake up screaming and thrashing in bed because of nightmares, when I feel so overcome by emptiness that I feel like I can’t be inside my own body – it feels real, when everyday I wake up hating myself, having to convince myself that I shouldn’t give up. That today shouldn’t be the day I finally find a sliver of piece in death.

I’ve had the distinct pleasure of dealing with depression on and on (yes it’s never really been off, just sort of dormant in periods) since I was 12-ish, so I’d say my knowledge of the feelings involved with depression is better than the average. These feelings and emotions are really difficult to verbalize, and just because this is how I feel when I’m depressed this does not mean, that everyone who is depressed feels this way. It is very, very, very individual. Nevertheless, I’ll try to explain how I feel in the following blog posts – maybe it will help you gain some understanding into why a person with depression can’t just snap out of it.