Lies

I’ve been lying to myself and to everyone else and in my posts on this site for the last few months without really even realising it.

It’s just that I keep telling myself and everyone else that I’m super happy and super confident, telling the small minority of people who knew how broken I was in 2012 that I’m far from that now. I tell myself I’m strong and I’m happy and that I can do anything, when I’m sad I tell myself it’s not permanent and that I have to snap out of it. I’ve shaped myself into an unfeeling ***** and now I have a reputation amongst my supposed friends for being cold and mean and bitchy and I liked that at first because it was so fucking easy to fill that role, to be the vaguely likeable villain, but it was all false and it wasn’t me and now I can’t stop being that girl and I’m starting to hate her and she’s really alone and scared and sad but I am her now I don’t know I’m just losing myself and my mind right now and I don’t know what to do and I’m typing whatever comes to mind right now without really properly thinking and I just don’t know what I’m trying to say and I’m sorry for this being so weird and jumbled.

It’s just that I only now realised that suppressing the sadness that is still very much here hasn’t helped in the long run. I thought that if I pretended to be okay that I would eventually be, but I’ve stopped believing myself now and I’m feeling a bit broken and I don’t want to admit it, I really don’t, but right now I am just sad. Not the suicidal sad I was this time last year, but sad with the potential to reach that same depth again if I don’t do anything to stop it and I don’t know how to stop it. I need to stop it because I don’t want to go back into that deep depression again, I don’t want to want to die again, you know? But if I’m not careful I know I’ll be back there, I’ll be back to staring at train tracks and wondering how many pills it would take… I don’t want that, I want to fight it, I really do. But I don’t know how to and I’m scared and I don’t want help.

It’s not that I don’t want help because I like this sadness, it isn’t quite as indulgent as it was when I first let it in all those years ago when I was a lonely 14 year old. Back then it was self indulgent, but then it escalated and then I wanted to die because everything hurt and I couldn’t do a thing to stop myself wanting to destroy myself no matter how hard I tried. And I thought I had almost completely chased that sadness away, that I was no longer in danger of the suicidal thoughts returning, that I was well on my way out of the darkness. But I don’t think that’s true. I think I was along the right lines at first when I began to fight the sadness as I did things I loved and tried hard to love and respect myself and others and I kept finding ways to remind myself that I had potential and my life had purpose, that did work. It’s just that I think I jumped too quickly from “I’m beginning to feel a lot better” to “I’m completely okay now so I refuse to talk or even think about the way I was because it’s in the past” and now it’s all catching up to me.

I’m scared of getting deeply unhappy again and I don’t think repressing the sadness is as effective a method as it was. I need help but I refuse to get help because I don’t want another person to help me, I want to help myself. I really can’t stand the thought of accepting help from someone else, I have to save myself, I have to look after myself, I have to full myself back onto the platform, so to speak. I just can’t rely on anybody else to save me and I don’t want to. I have to do this for myself. It’s just that ‘myself’ seems to be pretty fucking unreliable at the moment and I don’t know how to sort myself out so I can be in a position to help myself. I don’t want to want to die again, but unless I find some way to help myself I can easily imagine the suicidal thoughts returning.