here I sit, once again, preparing to pour out my emotions.
have a psych appointment in 2 hours, and, to be honest, I'm not very keen.
I don't want to be spilling my heart to a random stranger. ( yet here I am, spilling it to the masses)
its been a difficult few weeks lately. mum's birthday was this month. as was the 2 year anniversary of her passing.
they say you don't get over it, that you just learn how better to cope with it.
but I don't think I am. in fact, I feel (and a friend I helped move over the weekend pointed it out also), that I am regressing. i am not 'getting better'. I am, in fact, spiralling deeper into the depression. another thing she said though struck home. is it depression, or is it grief?
and that has me questioning.
and questioning is good.
questioning leads to possible growth.
we are all going through something in our lives. for a long time, I felt alone in my struggle. but talking about this the other day in a post, made me realise, that we all have something in our hearts, that makes us hurt.
sometimes talking about it with random strangers is easier, than talking about it to our nearest and dearest.
is it because we care less on how a random stranger will judge us, than the ones we hold close?
is it that their impartial views are easier to accept than those of close to us?
is it because the person whom we choose to confide our deepest and darkest to, understand the type of people we are, and that their opinion of us matters more than a trained individual.
these are just a few of my current ponderings.
things I think of late at night, when sleep eludes me.
resisting a relapse. part of me just wants to get high ( on weed. I don't do harder substances)
but I need to remember why I quit in the first place ( a year ago ) the first time.
I remember I was using it as a band-aid. to not feel. and that is not healthy. I realise that now.
I am hurting. I need to turn that hurt into something special. turn the sadness into growth. I get that now.
something my flatmate said to me over the weekend really hit close to home.
he told me the reason he is rarely at the house.
in one of my moments of weakness, I said ( and I don't remember the EXACT words, so I'm paraphrasing )
'one day you will come home, and find me in the bathtub - that's how I feel right now'
and that is the reason he hasn't been over very often.
he doesn't want to walk in and find me there. it scares him. and I can understand why.
and that's why, when I went to my unemployment provider interview the other week,
I spilled my heart to the worker. to try to make something of myself.
I did a 'preparing for work' questionnaire. it was disheartening. to realise I don't have very many skills. to realise I am not the type of person people would be jumping at the opportunity to employ.
to be honest, after doing the questionnaire, I felt useless. i.... its hard to explain, and frankly, I don't have the energy to.
my goal in life ( has been for 2 years now ) is to get into studying. I want to do youth work. I want to help prevent other people falling into the life I was forced to live. to survive.
but my extensive criminal history, and running away from it all because of 'the incident' makes that a little hard to do.
I have been good ( not done anything that may lead to me being arrested ) since 2000/1. but because I ran away from it, and didn't face up t it til 2009, makes it look like they are fresh charges.
in those 8 years, I was running away, I missed out on quality time with my mother. time I will never get back. And i never want anyone else to have to experience that.
i think thats what i like most about being a steemian. that i can put my message out there. tht i can interact with people, and try to help them get through their difficulties.
image courtesy of pixabay