Asking For Help

Things have been troublesome for me. My relationship of 4 years has ended, and I’m still heartbroken over that fact. It’s only been a couple days, and so the feelings are still very raw. It’s difficult to have 4 years of good memories in your head, only to be trumped by the memory of one incident: the break up.

I’m okay with having to move forward. I mean, I’ve been through a lot worse things in my life than a breakup, and have had my heart broken on the same level once before. I’m used to the pain. I’m used to the random crying that hits you when you hear a song that reminds you of everything, or see a couple, or hear about people and their love, or see all the pictures we have. I’m used to the constant feelings of “wow, this is all your fault” because I’m used to things getting ruined because of my mental health. And that’s essentially what all this boils down to.

I still have my cat. I love her, and I will forever love her. And I thank him for buying her for me those 2 years ago, she’s been a great addition to my life. So that’s one thing to be thankful for.

On top of that, the program I work for is also closing in December. I feel I am no longer welcome in this town by way of the universe, and that because both my job and relationship are essentially over at the same time, it’s a sign that it’s time to move on to bigger and better things.

I plan to move down to Los Angeles where peer support jobs are rampant in certain areas, and where I can really use my creative talent: my writing, my photography. I want to be able to blossom in this crazy life, and I’m sick of being stifled and stagnant. All of this stress is really kicking up my mental health issues, and so is not having the money to even pay for my prescriptions right now.

I started a GoFundMe. Hear me out: I hate taking money from people. I hate taking offers from people. I hate doing anything that requires me to beg. But I am in a situation where I can’t just up and leave town and not risk being homeless. I can’t stay in town and not risk being homeless. Again. I’m trying to avoid that. Again.

I would use the funds strictly for moving expenses and nothing more. That means the U-Haul to get my stuff down there, the deposit and first months rent on a place ( a room for rent, of course), and food along the way. I’m asking for 2k. Not too much, not too little.

If you know anyone who is willing to donate, that would be amazing. The link is here. I’m just a young 23 year old trying to make a new start in a world that has beat me down from the beginning. And I’m not trying to act helpless. I’m not even on disability, although with my diagnoses I could qualify. But I want to do things on my own, prove to myself and the world that I can be who I need to be without second guessing myself or degrading myself.

I am just in need of a little help.

I’ve been apart of this wordpress community for three years now, and have been thankful to every single person who has ever liked or commented on this blog. And now I’m finally reaching out to every single one of you and asking for just a bit of help. You don’t have to donate, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking for you to share the link on Facebook, on Twitter, on LinkedIn, whatever. I only have so much of a following, and could use more help in that department.

If you do donate, thank you, thank you. Every little bit helps.

Now, I’m going to try and get ready for my day, as difficult as that’s becoming.

Thank you.

Afraid of Us

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Let’s take a look at the fear in ourselves, instead.

One thing I notice that often comes with diagnosis besides confusion, sadness, in some cases hopelessness, is a fear of never living a “normal” life, whatever that means. It might have something to do with the YOU’RE SICK FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE; HEH, SORRY mentality some doctors, friends, and family project.

Then we become fearful of living at all. We become fearful of our “symptoms”, we become fearful of “losing control”, we become fearful of waking up in the morning.

I remember that fear like it was yesterday, because it probably was yesterday, because I go back and forth. Just to show you I am indeed human and not a robot. You can never really tell these days.

I think fear is healthy. It’s healthy to be vigilant of your emotions, your feelings, your person. It’s not healthy to let that fear run you, to let that fear form opinions about yourself that prevent you from living the life you deserve. If you struggle with your mental health, chances are you’ve been through *some shit*, and deserve a break from that chaos.

There are times when I feel I can’t control my thoughts, or the speed of them, what I see, what I hear. Sometimes I feel I can’t control the vibrating anxiety shaking my body from head to toe, or the creeping depression that sits idle until it’s ready. Then I wonder just exactly why I want control. What makes the anxiety so unbearable? Often it’s because I’m sitting there thinking about how unbearable the anxiety is. That makes the unbearable, unbearable.

What makes us fearful of experiencing something? What if we embrace that fear? What if we let it through the door, make it leave it’s shoes at the bottom of the steps, and invite it upstairs for tea? How hard can it push if there’s nothing to push against?

The truth of life is sometimes things need to just happen. Whether that be anxiety or voices, sometimes it just needs to happen. Sometimes rivers need to run down the mountain. Sometimes plants need extra room to grow. What do you expect to happen if you keep a blooming, growing plant confined in its seedling box? Where do you expect the roots to go? What do you expect to happen to the plant? If you can answer those questions for that example, you can answer those questions for yourself.

I get scared often. I get scared of the demons that follow me around and tell me I’m possessed. I get scared of that feeling of being watched, targeted, followed, by something supernatural, something I can’t fight back against, except with spirit. That scares me. And sometimes I fight it: I obsess over it, and that obsession leads to no sleep, and no sleep leads to increased feelings of being watched, touched, yanked on, clawed, and torn apart.

I’ve been learning along with you all. Sometimes in that fear I simply let myself be fearful. I ask myself what’s the worse that has happened? What’s the worse that can happen? How likely is it to happen? What else could these feelings be attributed to? Is there something going on in my life right now that is making me fearful, sad, angry, and it’s manifesting as this spiritual attack?

The other truth of life is that there are many different reasons for things. And to limit yourself to one reason for one thing is only backing yourself into a corner.