As I write this, I am sitting by a lake next to my mother. My Mom is in her fold-up camping chair and I’m in my comically smaller version of the same one. As I left my house, I thoughtlessly grabbed a notebook, though I was sure I would mainly be reading.
Today has not been a good day. I wanted to go to the lake to see something nice, and hopefully make myself feel better, too. I packed my book, some coffee, and at the last minute, a notebook. The notebook I grabbed has a list of positive affirmations I wrote at one of the last times I felt like this.
But reading them did not have a positive effect on me. It felt like more of a sad reminder than anything else. The insecurities between the lines of each affirmation perhaps ring truer today than they did when they were written.
I’d be Humpty Dumpty
This specific bout of anxiety and depression was brought on by drinking a few nights ago. I always get a mental hangover as well as a physical one, following a night out, but the mental part can last much longer. The day after is the worst. I need sleep, but I have constant panic attacks and am unable to breathe slowly enough to fall asleep.
In previous years, I would call a friend and have them talk to me until I fell asleep. I needed to focus on something else besides my own head replaying the previous night. Now I have found a great podcast that I use instead.
Before the lake, I made a nest out of blankets for myself and a small one for my cats, and just watched a movie. For a while, it was nice. But the negative thoughts always come back. The anxiety varies by how much I drank and how much I embarrassed myself.
I know it seems that this should be more than enough to motivate me to not drink at all, but that isn’t the case. The older I get, the less I go out, which is great, but the feelings the day after remain.
During the following days, I feel like a failure. I question my worth completely, and am convinced everyone I know hates me. Now, I am generally a happy person, but when the mental hangovers come, I feel like I have backtracked so much and my self-esteem drops to what it was at the lowest point in my life.
I have so many coping mechanisms. These feelings are not new. It seems like half of my life is spent in breaking my own heart, and the other is me trying to put it back together again. I swear, in another life, I’d be Humpty Dumpty.
The process is exhausting, though. On days like this, I obsessively feel the need to be productive, to do anything I can to try to make me like myself again or to convince myself I have some sort of a purpose. I try to do good things, but it feels like no matter what I do, on days like these it will never be enough, and I worry that I will never love myself.
I am so jealous of people who can just laugh things off, and especially of people who know and are confident in their worth.
It’s easy to fill up with sadness
Though I know I won’t feel great today, there are things I can do to make myself feel a bit better. Sitting by a lake helps, being near my Mom helps, and listening to calming music certainly helps, too.
I do hope that one day, I can make myself feel better on my own. Then I won’t have to spend so much time seeking validation. But that version of me seems so far away, it is hard to imagine a world where that could be me.
It is really, really difficult to have so much conflict in my own mind. Sometimes, I look at inanimate objects and wish that I was them just for a few minutes, just for a break. I try to convince myself that my opinion is the only one that matters. I remind myself that I have things I enjoy; that no matter how bad things, get there will still be people and things that I love.
I also water my plants. It makes me feel needed, like I have a tiny bit of a purpose. I enjoy candles, and fall, and I absolutely love my birthday. I am excited for the upcoming year and starting school again, but it is hard having so much good, yet still feeling so bad. It’s at times like this that I get the harsh reminder that depression and anxiety don’t just go away.
I know self-care is more than hot tea and bubble baths, but on my worst days, that is exactly what I need. When I can’t feel better mentally, I try to do it physically, with fuzzy blankets, funny shows and animals. And honestly, I’d rather be crying in a bubble bath than anywhere else.
Sometimes when I’m sad, I think about my imaginary celebrity emotional support team. Dr. Phil, Linda from Bob’s Burgers, Ellen DeGeneres, Mindy Khaling and Oprah would all be there. I create these scenarios and file them under “Things I would do if I ever came into an obscene amount of money.”
I love my mind sometimes. I love that I can host these imaginary support meetings. I love that I find it comforting. I do wish I didn’t have to be consoled so frequently, though. When you feel completely empty, it’s easy to fill right up with sadness.
Bad moments are just moments
From across the lake, I can see the outline of Toronto. I used to want to just leave and start again; I thought that would help and that I’d finally be happy. I still have moments where I want to go somewhere new, but the feelings come less often now.
My first response to discomfort in any way has always been to leave, but I know I can never really start again. It’s like looking under rocks and finding the same exact thing each time. I will have good and bad days, wherever I am.
I always want to end on a positive note. I want to be able to instill hope, but it is hard when I don’t feel that way. The problem with treating the internet as your diary is that it isn’t always clean or happy. It’s hard to make words seem pretty when you are talking about ugly things.
But I am grateful, and I appreciate the good moments so much. I also know that although the bad moments are awful, they are just moments, and I’m sure it won’t be long until I’m writing about something wonderful.
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image 1 Image by Loren Elkin from Pixabay 2 Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay 3 Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
