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Sometimes talking about suffering publicly is weird, especially when you want to stay brave or positive. It's even more true when you were supposed to stay silent about your own negative feelings when growing up.
When I was a kid, saying "I feel depressed" was met with a lot of pushback. First it was "no you're not, it's just a phase." Then it was "Stop saying that. You're manifesting it into your universe."
People even told me that "Nobody wants to be friends with someone who is depressed." For years, I've been convinced, even when proven otherwise, that talking about your negative feelings is only going to alienate you from your friends.
My mind is swimming with lots of things I'd like to say and none of it feels poignant enough to separate into easily understood ideas within 1 or 2 sentences. All I know is that despite my attempt to just be honest, I'm trying to detract and turn this into a "lesson" for you all.
And I don't really want that. My intention is to get this out, in as healthy and freeform of a way as possible, so people can understand what I'm going through. Understand that I'm trying. Understand why I am beyond exhausted all the time. Why my PTSD holds me back so much.
As I type it feels like every bone and nerve in my body is screaming at me. "Stop." "Don't say anything else." "You're committing career suicide" and can you imagine that? For DARING to talk about how I'm suffering. How Im not always as chipper as I like to present myself.
Because in my past, being upset was met with more animosity. I'm sure many people have heard things like "Keep crying and I'll give you something to cry about." or things like "I should be the one crying, not you." And...it brings up so much pain in me right now.
Anyway, my whole thing is that I wouldn't be in this situation that I am right now, that is, working from commission to commission. Struggling to make ends meet. If I didn't have such a shitty family.
Fuck those "life hack" books and podcasts that tell you to "stop blaming others for your shortcomings" NO. IT IS NOT MY FAULT. It is NOT my fault for being abused and in turn having low self esteem, a bad knee and anxiety issues because of said abuse.
Hell. I wouldn't even have to panic so hard about working and getting enough commissions to pay rent and bills if I hadn't been a victim of abuse and therefore had to escape to avoid possibly getting killed. And sometimes, it's hard not to dwell on that.
PTSD makes things so fucking hard. It sounds obvious, but even without a military cause, PTSD from physical and emotional abuse is just...wild. I get auditory hallucinations of events and when I'm really in a bad spot, I respond verbally, with what I wish I had said in the moment
When I was a child, I often had dreams of figures of authority kidnapping me, or putting me in danger. Such as a policeman stuffing me into the TRUNK of a car, or a fireman trying to put me into a burning building. Now, when I dream of someone hurting me, my dream self goes feral
And I'm not a violent person! In fact, real human and/or animal violence disgusts me. So much so that even when I become lucid in my dreams after fighting back someone who tried to attack me, I cry because I feel sick after hurting someone else, or feeling like I did.
And the reason for that is because of the fights I used to have back home, which again, reason I left in the first place was because I got into a fight where my leg got twisted and I couldnt walk for 3 days, all while being taunted by my attacker that I was being "melodramatic".
These days, I can't even walk to the busstop without having to sit down on the sidewalk and cry from the pain after pushing myself for only 5 minutes. My ankles swell and my heartbeat skyrockets. This is why I've been taking so many ubers, so I can get groceries and visit psych.
And forgive me, but I can't stop thinking, every time I'm in distress, just laying listlessly down on my bed and wondering. "If only they hadn't hurt me, I wouldn't have had to leave." I dont know where to go from here. I've survived for 3 years on my own. But...
Sometimes...I get tired of just surviving. That isn't what life is meant to be. I want meaning within me that isn't just work to keep a roof over my head. I want to be able to take more risks. Do more things with my art. I'm happy doing what I currently do but... I need more.
I fear being successful sometimes, not because i dont enjoy the praise, I love the attention, but sometimes I feel like if I get notoriety for anything, people will think I'm capable of doing 300% all the time, when my body and mind just can't handle it right now.
I'm not sure what else to add here. I'm probably going to go back and sulk in my bed a bit more, feeling guilty that I'm not willing to go through the shoulder pain of using my old tablet to work on commissions, and possibly cry. Did this make me feel a bit better? Not exactly.
It did sort of empty my mind of everything that was weighing me down, but it's only a matter of time before the thoughts come back to me again. But I hope my experience can show a sense of solidarity with someone else anyway.
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