Broken memories

This is me, being honest with myself, publicly on the internet, as one does, as much as i’ll try to convince myself that i write this here in the possibility of it helping others through similar shit, i know that it’s for me, because i’m fucking lonely and tired of talking shit through by myself. I do this because i hope that i will one day look back and see that it won’t always be like this, that i can have a bit of happiness too, it won’t be light it won’t be funny but i guess that it matters, even if i don’t believe so.

Skipping through what caused this mess i will say that i have been going head to head with mental illness for the past 5 years, social anxiety and depression which may come from something worse that i can’t find for now, i tried to get help but it gets to a certain point where i am, but i guess i’ll explain better. For five years i fought with something which i didn’t know wasn’t normal, always miserable, tired, scared of every move i had to make and aware of every single mistake, my vision blurry and my stomach always feeling empty, moments where i was completely numb, and moments where every emotion would hit me all together, 5 years where from the moment i’d wake up to the moment i’d go to sleep i’d feel guilty of everything happening around me, and more than one time a day planning how to end it all without suffering, every knife, every bus, every window and every time i’d see a bottle of pills were a set of flashing images passing my mind, and with that more guilt, why couldn’t i be normal? what was wrong with me? no wonder no one gave a fuck about me, a miserable useless piece of shit, the first year i was angry with the world and with myself, i couldn’t stand the fact that i was left alone and i couldn’t stand the fact that i was a dumb piece of shit not able to maintain a single friendship, after that the anger gave in to the sadness, overwhelming and deep sadness, and then nothing, i was empty, i couldn’t feel anything except frustration towards my pathetic self the only thing i could think was ” pick yourself up you fucking idiot, people go through worse and you are here suffering for nothing” and the only thing that stopped me from turning off was the fact that i’d made others suffer (ironic ) and the hope of one day be able to be an artist, someone like Van gogh who saw how wonderful the world around him was but couldn’t bear all the pain in his heart. But then something changed, someone kind and someway broken like me told me that it was ok to feel like shit, it wasn’t normal and it had to be dealt with, and take note on the fact that this person was in a video, discovered randomly through my days of tired crying through movies and wishing on friends like the people on youtube, so i got help, in the way of medicines because is what i can afford at the moment, and it took some time but for the first time in years i could see myself living for more than the day, i started seeing how beautiful life can be, and even if i haven’t reached the place i wish to be yet i see hope. So why write this? i write this because in the last two days my head hurt like hell, i can barely stand and my vision is blurry again, my knees feel like cement and my chest feels like bursting open every second while the hole in my stomach is as big as ever, and that vision of happiness is more blurry than i wish it to be. And through all this the same stupid question always comes to my mind “am i that bad of a human for wanting to be an artist? what horrible damage could i bring to the world if all i ever dreamed was to make people laugh because i can’t see people cry? what is so wrong in that which makes the world bend they’re nose in disgust to such a word?” i don’t ask for much, a chat with friends around a campfire under some soft fleece blanket, someone who loves me for who i am, someone who doesn’t treat me like i’m scourged, falling asleep whispering to someone that i love, create stories that make people feel new experiences, and enjoying life like it should be enjoyed. Is this that much? am i such a dirty, annoying human to ask such hard to find things?

But in all this today i remembered something, i use to believe in a theory that Schopenhauer  created, he sustained that humans are stuck in an endless cycle, a pendulum to be precise, every human would find someone to desire, and suffer to get to it, and in the moment that we grasped said desire we would get bored and start again suffering to get to something else; i use to believe that this was true, that all i was destined to do was suffer through a “gift” i didn’t want in the first place, but a song i listened back to today made me think back on this theory, Alone by the trampled turtles if you are interested, the first verses to be precise

You come into the world alone
And you go out of the world alone
But in between, there’s you and me
The summer breezes blow so tall
And the winter nights are cold and so long
In between the falling leaves

 

This verses reminded me of that, but made me realize that even if it can hurt like a motherfucker, between the start and the end and birth and death a journey full of shit and loneliness and friends and love is to be taken, there is so much that could happen and even if my head tells me to just stop this suffering, even if i’m so tired i can’t even think straight i want to go on, because i want to see the falling leaves, and i want to love someone so much that it hurts, and i want to cry watching my friends do something they love, i want to see how the world grows and when my time comes i want to be scared of death and happy that i didn’t give up, and i want to be able to say that i wasn’t invisible, even if for such a short period of time.

If someone reading this feels like giving up, please don’t, i know that it’s the hardest thing but it can be better, you have to fight for it but it’s possible, you deserve to make mistakes and learn, you deserve to be happy and you deserve to experience love, i can’t talk about being alone because i felt like i was for longer than i can remember and even if i find people i like i can’t reach them, but there are 8 billion people in this world and i believe that we are not alone in the vast universe, so who knows. Thank you for reading, it means a lot to me, please take care of yourself and go and hug someone you love.

 

Matt 


6 thoughts on “Broken memories

  1. What a moving post…..depression, anxiety, etc….truly is a horrible burden to bear. For about 30 years, the roller coaster of emotions was so cruel. I hope that others will read this and find something that moves them to turn for help. It doesn’t have to be a lonely road….there are others of us out there that understand. More importantly, there is light at the end of the tunnel! May you continue on a brighter path…..

    Liked by 1 person

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