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I'm Not Okay (I promise)



I hated myself, I hated my life. The only thing keeping me going was knowing if I ended it all I wouldn't be able to travel or visit Walt Disney World ever again. Sounds silly to most but that park & its characters is what kept me here. I didn't think of the harm it would do to those around me, I simply wanted to stop existing. I wanted the pain to stop. I even thought of ways I could get rid of myself that allow me to have a way out in case I changed my mind. & I went into great detail mentally about this - I won't get into it here because it may be too dark, even for me right now writing this. The current me doesn't like to remember the pain & agony past me went through, & thinking of where I was mentally back then does hurt & is a little shocking that I allowed myself to think that way. I cannot fathom the mindset those who go through with suicide must be in. I was lucky I got myself out.

I would say the self-hatred started around the time I began this blog, that age. I probably didn't realize it then but I think its safe to assume that if you're calling yourself an ugly freak everyday because your classmates said it then there is a degree of self-loathing involved.

But anyway, I wanted to die, because being voluntarily invisible wasn't possible. I coped by imagining my favorite horror movie villains killing those who picked on me, The Bully and her disgusting companion in particular. Somehow that helped. I'm not sure if my therapist would have considered that to be a healthy coping mechanism or not but I would not endorse their deaths if Jason Vorhees really did came out of a tv screen and started hacking people. Being an empath who also dislikes people is hardd. You want to see them pay for their behavior but also you'd feel bad if they did - potentially.

I also coped by reminding myself at the end of the day I will go home, i'll get to pet my dog & I will be away from it all, and I will graduate and be totally away from these abysmal people. My biggest escape was utilizing my imagination with objects in my bedroom (the younger years), which led to finding MMO's like Runescape to play & I was able to make friends on there, as well as other MMO's. Video Games are an excellent source of escapism when you can't just up & get on a plane or get in a car and GO somewhere. Books are also an excellent source of escapism & I utilized that much less but have since grown to appreciate reading & read more. Coping mechanisms & allowing yourself to escape in your safe space are all topics I am going to get into more in depth later on.

I let my imagination take control when I wasn't in school because I was able to take the time to myself to get lost in my own head. When I was in school sometimes that was during class, i'll admit. Knowing I was able to use my vast imagination also saved me from ending it all. Same with not being able to say goodbye to my parents, brother, dog, or stuffed animals. My stuffed animals - again, may sound silly - were also my rocks. Those were and still are a source of comfort for me. Some people have booze, drugs, gambling, etc. - I had and still have plushies. Don't underestimate the power of a good stuffed animal as a way to cope with loneliness. As someone who grew up without friends & still struggles to this day, those plush animals do give a sense of comfort.

The last time I felt suicidal, once I escaped High School & made it to college - was when I found out I needed to take an extra semester to make up for a failed class & missing credits. I'm not sure why I got so triggered that I thought to myself as I walked back to my car in the campus parking lot, "if a bus comes I can step in front of it & at least get seriously injured so my mom can't hold this stupid mistake I made against me too much, but if i die then i'm really fucked. I won't get to feel the accomplishment of finishing college". (See how I was able to talk myself out of those actions?) But I didn't. I went home & faced the unpleasant music. Turns out she wasn't mad I needed an extra semester or two, it was because I couldn't take the blame myself, something anxious people do - place the blame somewhere else so we don't feel so sucky, at least it's what I did. It also didn't help that at this point I no longer was friends with the one person I genuinely called "best friend". I, once again, had no one. No one to reassure me that it'd be okay & not to worry that we won't walk at graduation together. No one to say, "yeah your mom's gonna yell at you but is that really a big deal?". Maybe if I had someone to say that to me instead of my brain saying I was a failure and I messed everything up (again) & i'll never succeed, I wouldn't have thought the bus thing. Reminding myself that I had no one to talk to in that moment, added to the pain. & the intrusive thoughts said she was better off without me anyway and she's probably glad we are no longer friends.

Intrusive thoughts have this funny way of adding one on top of the other. It starts with "lol you suck" to "lol you suck and thats why you're alone. That person you were best friends with replaced you because you suck. Just like they always do. You aren't good enough to have friends, that's why you're alone, you ugly freakish loser"; & so on & so fourth.

It was after that mental incident that I opened up to my therapist about what I was thinking & it's then that she had me read 2 lists both regarding social anxiety & depression & she finally said to me: "Do you know you have social anxiety?" / "Do you know you have depression? They go hand in hand. It's normal." "IT'S NORMAL" - she said she always knew I had these issues but didn't want to mention it sooner because she was afraid it would exacerbate things and I would have even MORE self-pity and wouldn't be able to pull myself out the way I did. My mom & therapist knew, I didn't. I just thought everything was scary & I would never do good in social situations. I also didn't think I was sad enough to be depressed cuz my interests still interested me (which is one of the main things people deal with regarding depression, their usual interests stop interesting them). But I had trouble getting out of bed, I was having trouble being genuinely happy (which is where Disney comes in, that place is true escapism & made me feel happy despite everything going on. I went a lot so I would cope with Disney at various points in my life). I cried a lot to myself, a lot of times I cried myself to sleep, plushie in hand for comfort. Having feelings of hopelessness, the ideations I thankfully never acted on, etc. I also never self-harmed because a) I didn't know how (like what does one cut themselves with? & with more exposure to the internet I realized it was razors which we didn't even have in the house to my knowledge.), b) I was afraid it'd hurt. I know why people self-harm & I didn't think my pain was that great that I felt numb. I may have been wrong, I probably was numb but much more in an emotional sense and less in the sense that the emotional numbness affected the physical. If that makes sense. In other words, I was numb inside, but it didn't feel so powerful that I felt I needed to feel something physically, hence why people cut, for those of you who don't know - they do it to remember what pain felt like, to remember what feeling felt like, because they loose that sensation. & finally c) I didn't want the reminder of the pain. I didn't want the scars. I was afraid if I saw them later in life i'd remember the trauma and relapse. Remembering the trauma for this blog has been hard, but luckily my inner strength has proven to be bigger where my inner voice will not allow me to go back to that place.

& with that, I will continue this blog in the way I wanted to: I will discuss coping mechanisms & ways therapy & said coping strategies have helped.


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