I’m pretty pooped this evening. It’s been a tough week, and I’m having a very hard time reminding myself about the good things in my life. Right now I feel like nothing I do amounts to anything and I might as well just give up. I don’t like to be this way.
Sadly I think I just take things too seriously sometimes, and don’t rush to forgive myself for mistakes. I am under the weight of punishment and not able to come up for air. I don’t really deserve this disposition. So: I’ve crawled into my bed and I’m going to end this mood with sleep. When I wake up tomorrow, I will feel refreshed and invigorated.
Blog. I know that I have made awesome progress in my life. I know that what I do is important and worthwhile. I also am aware of the multi-faceted person I am, and sometimes I just get in a bad way. I think it’s fair to say that bad temperaments happen to everyone. Mine are a little different, because I have this voice in my mind telling me I should hurt myself because I’m a complete fuck up in my own life. It doesn’t need any evidence to justify its demands, it just hates me, and it makes me think I should hate myself too. I have a hard time defending myself against this voice (who has a distinctive presence that is not a part of my normal internal discourse). He seems to get stronger as I face challenges, and he is constantly berating me with accusations, sad memories, reflections on things I have done wrong, and other such mental weaponry. It’s a side of myself I both accept and detest, because he is the one who gets me to try and kill myself (which has happened 3 times to date).
I can’t ignore it. It affects my mood, my attitude, my actions, everything. There is no escaping it. It is always in my mind, nestled deep down in the fabric of my consciousness. Sometimes I can’t see past his words, and I get down, like today. Everyone around me is blind to my suffering, and I would never reveal my struggle regardless. Except to you. Out here where my words get a chance to be free of my mind, my thoughts gain permanence and are given existence someplace other than in my head. This grants me serenity and is the only way I have so far discovered to deal with the acute sadness and depression. These are the early warning signs that if things were to continue unchanged, I would listen to the voice and it would try to destroy me.
There’s nothing quite like knowing your enemy, the one who will never stop hating you, is stuck inside my brain and will never come out. His goal is for me to die, and he won’t stop until that happens. I have been learning how to manage this struggle without letting him win, but on a late Friday at the end of an exhausting week, he has formidable traction.
Blog. I’m going to be ok, right? The voice does not win, I win. I am the decider of my life, and I decide to fight. The battle is hard when supply lines have been cut for days and all my troops are starving or have dysentery. I know things will get better. I just need some rest.