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Downward spiral (just venting)
12 years ago
General
Three and a half months into the year, and I'm bouncing between feeling like a complete idiot and getting angry at everything, but mostly myself. I don't think I have any reason to be in the first place. My life is practically stable right now. Sure, there's a lot of uncertainties about the future, but that's what the future is - uncertain. But for the time being, things are fine. On the surface.
Inside, I've been a complete mess lately. A couple of highly stressful events have brought back a couple of traumatic childhood experiences I've hoped would remain buried and forgotten forever and ever. If the flodgates haven't been opened because of that, it's damn well about to, and I'm struggling daily to keep my composition and being stoic about it, shrug it off. It's fine, it's in the past. Can't change it. A reminder of how things used to be, but isn't anymore. And yet... it's made me aware of the fact that I have a huge void left inside of me that I can't fill. A void left, and caused by, my own father. I'm terrified I might end up the same as him in the end, and I'm already seeing signs. And even though I'm aware of how things are, I can't stop myself. It's like the more I try to struggle, the more this... void sucks me in. I don't want to end up like him. I want to be me! But it seems like I can't help myself. As much as I've wanted to understand why he did the things he did, and how he must have felt... the worse I feel as a person, the closer I get to understanding what must've been going on with him. But I'm left with more questions than answer, and there's no way I can talk to him again. Even if I could, would he even talk about it? He was very secretive about himself. The person he showed to the public was very different from who he was on the inside, and in the end, he found it harder and harder to keep appearances up the worse he got. I see myself change for the worse, but while he kept rotting away on the inside, I chose to seek help. I wanted to turn it all around and feel good. Like a person. Like any person would want to. No one should have to wake up and dread the next day, much less curse lowly to themselves they're still alive.
A rampant suspicion lately has been that he suffered from schizophrenia. And because of that, I've been dreading having the same mental disorder. The theory has been shut down though by professionals... but it's been brought to light that... because of what has happened in my early life, and the crippling apathy and depression I've had since the mid-teens probably caused by it, I've developed a schizoid personality. It's not a disorder per se, as it doesn't hinder my daily life to the point it's doing more harm than good. The doctor was kind enough to explain to me that, with all things considered, it's not surprising that I developed it. What started out as a defense mechanism became something bigger. And talking some more with her, it dawned on me that there was something really dark in the background as far as my family goes, and that some things weren't as they seemed. It would explain why my brother chose to completely sever ties with us. Or why my sister turned out the way she did. I wonder if my mother knew all about it? And if she did... why did she stay quiet? Did she just pretend like nothing happened...? It's made me question a lot of things about myself and my family as a whole. And it's pretty hard to deal with it, since... I can't go back in time and change things. I can just sit and acknowledge that "yeah, it happened..." and that's pretty much it.
The worst part? There's many children out there with parents like that. Parents that neglect their kids, or worse... doing all kinds of unspeakable things to them... and no one knows. And... what happens to these children when they grow up? Do they just lock away things like I did? Drink or do drugs just to deal with it? Suicide? Grow up to repeat the cycle...? I don't even know... but it's frightening. All I know is that I'm trying to deal with things that happened well over 20 years ago, while trying to find a place where I belong in this world in terms of emplyment or studies, trying to find myself through art, trying to receive respect from my peers... but it's a little too much at the same time. And after pushing keys for... I don't know how long, it... just dawned on me. I just need time to process and go through with it. It's a pretty big pill to swallow, suddenly having to deal with something I'd rather just hide and lock away until I take a dirt nap. It'll probably come back to bite me in the ass later, things tend to do that sometimes. At the same time I feel a little relieved having typed it up. I don't know why I feel inclined to share it with others, especially since I would rather just hide away with my own thoughts. I just want to move on. Maybe like Håkan did before he died of cancer, having told his friends he had a mental breakdown after years of drinking and neglecting himself, winding up in the hospital, and being abandoned by those he thought cared. Those that mattered stayed, knowing full well what he'd gone through and felt. Others turned their backs on him. Sometimes I think of him. He was a really kind man, who put others infront of himself, even though bad things kept happening over and over to him. Last time I saw him was the month before dad's funeral, and the year after he was gone. I think it's been about a year since he passed away. I barely knew the guy, but he left an impression on me for sure.
I feel calmer now. There is something I'd like to point out, though. I'm not asking for pity because I feel... well, I guess really sad and lonely on the inside if I have to be honest about it, but I'm just showing a piece of what's going on inside of my mind. It's intended just for the purpose of making someone understand. It doesn't matter who. If you've managed to read through this, all of it, and feel like something is starting to make sense to how I've been acting and behaving lately, then I sincerely thank you. If it doesn't make any damn sense, or is just a mess of words and jumbled thoughts hammered down, that's ok too. But I feel as if I have to be honest to myself, but also the people around me. It's both humbling, and humiliating, but... it feels important that I have to share this. Maybe it's just desperation? Trying to find one person in the world that would understand. Depends on how you look at it, I guess? Well... I'll let you be the judge.
Inside, I've been a complete mess lately. A couple of highly stressful events have brought back a couple of traumatic childhood experiences I've hoped would remain buried and forgotten forever and ever. If the flodgates haven't been opened because of that, it's damn well about to, and I'm struggling daily to keep my composition and being stoic about it, shrug it off. It's fine, it's in the past. Can't change it. A reminder of how things used to be, but isn't anymore. And yet... it's made me aware of the fact that I have a huge void left inside of me that I can't fill. A void left, and caused by, my own father. I'm terrified I might end up the same as him in the end, and I'm already seeing signs. And even though I'm aware of how things are, I can't stop myself. It's like the more I try to struggle, the more this... void sucks me in. I don't want to end up like him. I want to be me! But it seems like I can't help myself. As much as I've wanted to understand why he did the things he did, and how he must have felt... the worse I feel as a person, the closer I get to understanding what must've been going on with him. But I'm left with more questions than answer, and there's no way I can talk to him again. Even if I could, would he even talk about it? He was very secretive about himself. The person he showed to the public was very different from who he was on the inside, and in the end, he found it harder and harder to keep appearances up the worse he got. I see myself change for the worse, but while he kept rotting away on the inside, I chose to seek help. I wanted to turn it all around and feel good. Like a person. Like any person would want to. No one should have to wake up and dread the next day, much less curse lowly to themselves they're still alive.
A rampant suspicion lately has been that he suffered from schizophrenia. And because of that, I've been dreading having the same mental disorder. The theory has been shut down though by professionals... but it's been brought to light that... because of what has happened in my early life, and the crippling apathy and depression I've had since the mid-teens probably caused by it, I've developed a schizoid personality. It's not a disorder per se, as it doesn't hinder my daily life to the point it's doing more harm than good. The doctor was kind enough to explain to me that, with all things considered, it's not surprising that I developed it. What started out as a defense mechanism became something bigger. And talking some more with her, it dawned on me that there was something really dark in the background as far as my family goes, and that some things weren't as they seemed. It would explain why my brother chose to completely sever ties with us. Or why my sister turned out the way she did. I wonder if my mother knew all about it? And if she did... why did she stay quiet? Did she just pretend like nothing happened...? It's made me question a lot of things about myself and my family as a whole. And it's pretty hard to deal with it, since... I can't go back in time and change things. I can just sit and acknowledge that "yeah, it happened..." and that's pretty much it.
The worst part? There's many children out there with parents like that. Parents that neglect their kids, or worse... doing all kinds of unspeakable things to them... and no one knows. And... what happens to these children when they grow up? Do they just lock away things like I did? Drink or do drugs just to deal with it? Suicide? Grow up to repeat the cycle...? I don't even know... but it's frightening. All I know is that I'm trying to deal with things that happened well over 20 years ago, while trying to find a place where I belong in this world in terms of emplyment or studies, trying to find myself through art, trying to receive respect from my peers... but it's a little too much at the same time. And after pushing keys for... I don't know how long, it... just dawned on me. I just need time to process and go through with it. It's a pretty big pill to swallow, suddenly having to deal with something I'd rather just hide and lock away until I take a dirt nap. It'll probably come back to bite me in the ass later, things tend to do that sometimes. At the same time I feel a little relieved having typed it up. I don't know why I feel inclined to share it with others, especially since I would rather just hide away with my own thoughts. I just want to move on. Maybe like Håkan did before he died of cancer, having told his friends he had a mental breakdown after years of drinking and neglecting himself, winding up in the hospital, and being abandoned by those he thought cared. Those that mattered stayed, knowing full well what he'd gone through and felt. Others turned their backs on him. Sometimes I think of him. He was a really kind man, who put others infront of himself, even though bad things kept happening over and over to him. Last time I saw him was the month before dad's funeral, and the year after he was gone. I think it's been about a year since he passed away. I barely knew the guy, but he left an impression on me for sure.
I feel calmer now. There is something I'd like to point out, though. I'm not asking for pity because I feel... well, I guess really sad and lonely on the inside if I have to be honest about it, but I'm just showing a piece of what's going on inside of my mind. It's intended just for the purpose of making someone understand. It doesn't matter who. If you've managed to read through this, all of it, and feel like something is starting to make sense to how I've been acting and behaving lately, then I sincerely thank you. If it doesn't make any damn sense, or is just a mess of words and jumbled thoughts hammered down, that's ok too. But I feel as if I have to be honest to myself, but also the people around me. It's both humbling, and humiliating, but... it feels important that I have to share this. Maybe it's just desperation? Trying to find one person in the world that would understand. Depends on how you look at it, I guess? Well... I'll let you be the judge.
Ge inte up. Oavsett om du forsätter rita eller börjar med något helt annat så är det bättre än att t.ex. ta livet av sig eller sjunka i sina mörkaste tankar. Gå ut och ta lite luft om du måste. Våren är ju här nu. Deprimerad kan du vara på vintern.
Jag tog mig tid att lyssna på vad han hade att säga... för... varför inte? Vad har jag att förlora på att lyssna på någon som försöker motivera och få en att tänka lite annorlunda? Självkänsla är ju något jag har haft väldigt dåligt av, så... ehh. Hade det i bakgrunden, satte mig ner för att rita... det känns som rätt uppenbara saker han tar upp, men de mest uppenbara saker är de man missar oftast. Han gör det väldigt enkelt och bara idén om att vrida på perspektivet lite och fråga sig själv lite varför, och inte sätta sig i en "måste" situation... det är ju rätt enkelt och smart när man tänker efter. Så... ska lyssna klart på honom, och tusen tack för länken! Det fick mig att tänka lite i andra banor än vad jag gjort den senaste tiden!
Glad att du tyckte om länken.
Länken var ett sånt lyft! Så, den ska jag se till att inte förlora, och kanske länka vidare till andra. Man vet ju aldrig.
But I keep moving forward. Me, Myself and I. Nobody else. Where did it lead me? I have an ok job, a decent hobby, even managed to round up a small army of zombie minions (aka "fans"). But I don't give them myself. I'm just another artist with a mask on.
Keep moving forward. No matter what, you are you.
I get the feeling you're stoic and determined, but not very happy. Things seem alright on the surface, but something is lacking, yes? And... speaking of masks, I believe we all carry them around. Even to our friends, we wear our masks. There's something someone told me that we never allow ourselves to show all of us to someone, we only show fragments of our whole person. To different people, we show different aspects of ourselves. Afterall, that's how they got to know us, as that aspect of ourselves.
While it's important to keep going forward, you need to sit down once and a while and take in the present, that fleeting moment. Smell the flowers, listen to those leaves rustle in the wind, smell a freshly brewed cup of coffee, and just be in the moment. No obligations, no worries, just a moment of stillness, peace... we're not machines. Killing yourself on the inside and numbing your emotions doesn't make things better. It might be a way to manage with things, but it comes with a pretty hefty cost in the end. Take care of yourself on the inside as well.
My general point is that you should fortify your mind and keep moving forward, because in the end there's someone here on the cartoon dick and pussy arena that's gonna listen and help <3
I just knew something was off when I first started typing out, but it's different thinking about it, and putting it out on text. Thoughts can get all jumbled up, get out of focus, and all that. When you can put down your thoughts on text, something starts to happen. You see it, and you process it differently. At first, I wanted to keep it short, to the point. But the more I started typing, the more I started to break things down and analyze it, process it. I guess it's like eating. You have to cut it down in pieces and take a little at a time, or else you'll either choke or let it spoil.
And you're right. Knowing how it works, or in a case, getting to understand the problem is a step towards a solution and learning how to deal with it. Unless you're MacGyver, everything can't be fixed. But just something like learning how to deal with something in an effective way is better than just... either ignoring or avoiding it completely.
Well, I'm trying to. I'm seeing a bunch of things that's coming up I'm looking forward to. If nothing else, I can always go out and make myself a milestone I can look back to and appreciate.
But, regardless, I did read the whole journal, and I do rather care, as unemotionless as I sound about this (and yet, sounding emotional could make me sound mocking... written English is a bloody bitch).
Either way, you have one direction. Forward. This isn't a bad thing.
Hahah yeah... written English, or just anything written, can be either taken completely out of context or become offensive when it's not, just by adjusting the "tone" of how you percieve it. It's hard putting emotion to a written word! Easier when bodylanguage, tone, voice, sights, sounds, eyes and all that stuff comes into play! On the flip side, it's a whole lot less noisy than trying to imagine 400 people in the same room talking to eachother.
Gotta head forward, keep momentum!
I'm dead tired, but... well, hey! Things are going to improve, whatsoever!
Just hang in there and remember that I'm here if you ever need someone to talk to.
That's good to know! The worst feeling when you're facing hardship is having no one to turn to. Even if you know they're there, you might not always see them... or have the courage to talk about it.