Diary #18 : Live in the Moments…

For some people nothing is going to stop them being the happy positive wonderful humans they are. That’s all good and well for you. Today, or just recently I guess, I’m sick of people telling me that I’m too negative and that if I just Lived in the Moment I’d be much happier.

Just because it works for you it doesn’t mean its going to work with someone like me.

Its hard to live in the moment when every moment you are awake you are in constant pain. People always tell you that they understand, everyone has a story about when they suffered or when they hurt but they seem to forget how personal that pain was to them and how personal it is to me.

I’m not someone who enjoys moments. I over analyse them to death. Even the most positive of moments will turn into a negative the second I have to think about it.

People like to tell me it gets better and that you just have to remember the good times.

Like the time I made myself go in town to see the Christmas lights go on and had a woman have a go at me and leave me in tears? Because that happened when Living in the Moment. Or like when I walked out of a job that made me mentally ill and very nearly killed myself because of the job centre? How about my 5 year relationship where I spent every fucking penny I had on a guy that treated me like shit? Every time I go somewhere nice and end up with a migraine, in tears, having a panic attack and a nose bleed and looking like a idiot?

I can’t leave the house without wanting to cry, I’m a 28 year old that needs to take 30 minutes to leave the house and even then has in the past had such bad panic attacks I’ve had to give up what I’m doing and go back inside. I don’t like the outside, I have no reason to like what is outside my front door when I can’t even begin to like myself.

My biggest problem right now is I hate myself. I hate that I don’t understand how I feel, I hate that I’ve fallen in love with someone I can’t even tell I have feelings for let alone have, I hate that I feel completely useless in everything I do, I hate having to look at myself, dress myself, get myself out of bed every day. I hate that I’ve stopped being proud of who I am, I hate that I can’t stop talking about one subject and its driving my friends away from me, I hate having to look after my stupid emotional ass when I get upset.

I came to terms with being non-binary and felt happy inside that at last I knew who I was. Now I just feel like a freak. No one wants to understand that I can’t physically force myself into their boxes and that there has always been this other box right next to them that they just don’t want to see but its where I belong. I’ve tried to tell people and they’ve mocked me. So what moment am I going to be living in when I live my life a lie because no one wants to respect me enough to respect my fucking gender?

Every day I have to hide who I am. I’m scared not just to leave my house but to leave myself. I can’t build human relationships and probably never will. I’m surrounded by people but never been so alone. I’m hurting more now then when I was suicidal. I’ve lost track of who I am, what I am and where I want to go with my life.

It takes every fucking ounce of my strength to fight my self hate. I struggle, usually in tears, to get my worthless ass out of bed. So what I don’t go out unless I have to go to work? Do you know how fucking hard it is for me to be surrounded by a crowd of people, having to fake a smile every time I leave the house, have to pretend I’m OK because if I dare actually tell someone I’m not I’m going to just tell them the one thing I don’t want a single person to know? Β Its a horror show so I’m sorry I conserve my energy for work or to do the one thing that makes me happy which is going to wrestling shows. You get up and brush your hair, have your shower and look forward to something in that day but I wake up and my first thought it I have to put up with myself again today.

Nothing makes me happy anymore. I just struggle along pretending it’ll all be OK.

Whilst I can’t find a reason to be happy with it and I don’t find pride in it I still fucking do it.

So don’t come at me with “what’s the worst that can happen” because the worst is that my feelings get hurt and they are already fragile enough with me trying to destroy them myself every second of the day without added heartbreak.

And really leave your Live in the Moment bullcrap at home because I DO live every fucking second in a moment of fear, panic and self loathing. I do not need someone telling me to be brave and go out and hurt myself even more then I’ve already done to myself.

For me telling me that I should live in the moment feels very much like a “just try to be happier”. Let me tell you now. If I could I fucking would have without you telling me to be so.

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2 thoughts on “Diary #18 : Live in the Moments…”

  1. I feel your pain 😦

    Most people I know always asks why I don’t just go out and do things but when I point out that I don’t like going out they come up with sayings like what is the worst that can happen and I sit here saying well I have a list if you want to come in here. People don’t understand that paranoia can destroy any chance of living in a moment, every bad moment overshadows the good.

    Sometimes we do not want people telling us it will get better we want them to respect the boundaries we ask for. When you get bombarded with so many people telling you to cheer up and get on with life as you have on Tumblr it is hard to continue to see the light and happiness and it forces you to back down.

    I enjoy your writing, I hope you are OK.

    1. Haha thanks Jess.

      I feel because its 2am here and I’m just angry after having to delete like 20 comments that are irrelevant to anything by people who seemingly don’t suffer with any kind of Mental disability that I didn’t really make much sense. I think I ranted about 3 or 4 different things. I’m happy the overall message I started with at least seemed to get through.

      Thing is I fight every day to just survive, that is my job in life. Whereas other people wake up to be parents, to be career people or meaningful to someone else I wake up every day trying to remind myself that I’m worth getting out of bed for. I don’t have a split personality and that doesn’t make me a freak it just makes me someone who doesn’t like myself. I’m under no impression that anyone else should like me personally when I don’t like myself. I’ve long since given up trying to make friends, the ones I have see through my bullshit and everyone else is just kind of there. I don’t need someone to tell me that I should just live in the moment because SOMEONE FUCKING ASKED ME A QUESTION AND I ANSWERED IT HONESTLY!

      Like why attack someone opening up about being a recluse? Why tell me that I would have a better life if I lived in the moment? Did they not read what I had wrote?! Or did it just go above their head? My fear of the outside world is fueled by what has happened on the outside of my front door and my inability to care enough about myself to fight that fear. I’m not just a recluse I’m also severely depressed, suffer from bipolar, have anxiety and am a very miserable fucking person. I was trying to help someone who asked for help.

      I feel like every time I write about myself now a days I also have to add to the blog post that I’m NOT currently suicidal because that’s the other thing. You can’t just tell people how you truly feel without them jumping to fucking conclusions either.

      I am tired and I am pissed off so I think I’m going to bed. I really did appreciate the messages on Tumblr, its just three people that are spamming me over social media and on here. I’ve spent most of the night just deleting their comments, very nearly deleted a wonderful comment on another blog by accident. Thanks for reading Jess and I am perfectly fine in my own little way.

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