Depression Highway

It’s been a long month. Grandma almost died, Mum was in the hospital, etc etc – tldr; check my Twitter feed

Have you ever felt like you’re not needed on earth anymore? How do I measure my worth?

It’s a trivial problem, I know. But my mind automatically hyper-focuses and I make myself paranoid and crazy, thinking nonstop. Like today I convinced myself, I truly don’t have a best-friend. It started because I was thinking about my future wedding, but quickly my thoughts realized all my friends have their own best-friend, and it’s not me. No one would name me as a best-friend, I would never be first for anyone. (Of course I’m blind to my family and my boyfriend- but this is how my brain works)

It’s such a stupid trivial tradition; but the whole maid of honour thing just makes me want to cry. Who do I ask? Who even wants to help me with a wedding? Who would be happy for me? I see the platonic love my friends have with their bffs, and their weddings, bachelorette party’s, gifts, speeches, etc. and then I morbidly wonder why no one likes being my friend.

This is how it begins. This is how easy it has become to hate myself.

These have become daily thoughts again. I must be horrible. Obviously. I drive everyone away. Am I not worthy of even myself? Must be really fucked. Right?

Every since I came forward about my rape I feel more isolated and alone than I was expecting. No one notices my pain behind my smile. Its too uncomfortable to look too closely.

And then I try not to feel the hurt the self-pity brings, because that’s not fair to my future husband! I mean, I technically already have a best friend- in the man I want to marry.

Cliche. Truly, he’s all I have.

But everything and everyone else feels forced. Uncomfortable. Unnatural.

I’m a different person now. I saw the wretch I had turned into. I fell too far down the rabbit hole, and I’m still struggling to get back up. You could say, I’m learning to love myself again. Failing miserably too. I can’t see myself anymore. If anything, I feel like I’m 10 years old again. Hating myself. Everything in sight is black.

Pessimistic fears. Endless struggle. Defeat.


Being alone is okay too. It will be. It’s not as hard as I thought it would be. I almost forget I was alone for a long time- and how much I enjoyed it back then. Floating between friendships and relationships alike. One sided pedestals eventually drove them all away. I was blind to a lot of things.

This really might be karma. At least he grounds me.

I realized today I can’t force myself to be better. It’s a slow healing process. I’ve already stressed myself into a weekend full of panic attacks- all because I wanted to attend the VALT Fashion Show model casting call.

In the end I didn’t go because the depression and anxiety was too much. Big surprise! Defeated again!

Officially diagnosed with PTSD makes for lots of frustration and impatience. I can’t work or stress myself with a fashion show. (Even though I spent all weekend trying to convince myself I could).

My therapist told me to practice mindfulness and meditation. Self pampering or shopping as a form of moderate therapy is encouraged as my first homework. I always choose to do the opposite. Be the rebel, stand up for myself. Get myself into trouble.

My brain is jumbled like this post. It’s hard to focus. It’s hard to face all my memories alone. I don’t want sympathy. I certainly don’t want to be the victim of this mental disorder any longer.

I start CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) this week. Officially diagnosed as complex form of PTSD means I need more than just “talking through it”. Multiple trauma means I need to literally re-train my brain how to react to stress and re-learn how to calm down my involuntary extreme reactions.

The Depression Highway in my brain won’t slow down so easily. It’s loud and busy and every road leads to it.


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