Why My Brain Sucks 6 (maybe not? research pending?)

I can try to be poetic about it, but I wanted to talk about something odd about me: Whenever I get really excited and happy about something, I feel sick to my stomach.

This may sound like an exaggeration, or a misconstrued effect, but it’s true. Ever since I was little, no matter if it was an idea or an actual trip–something that made me super excited–I would start to feel unwell. I’ve heard about people working themselves into a fervor, stressing themselves out to the point of illness. Whether it be the planning process or the endeavor that will result, the feeling of illness is inevitable. Maybe in my case, it can be considered eustress–stress resulting from something positive, but is still stressful nonetheless.

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I Should Be Happy…

Tuesday marked my last day of undergraduate classes. I am on track to graduate this month, and to walk in commencement next May. After seven years, three schools, and two majors, I’m finally going to get a bachelor’s degree. This is something I’ve been waiting for, something I didn’t think would happen since I had to drop out of the first university I went to. When I felt like a failure, I didn’t think I’d ever be in this position, much less in the wake of all the changes I’ve made since then.

And yet…I’m not happy.

Continue reading “I Should Be Happy…”

Conclusion

I’m done

I’m done and should be happy

I’m done and should be happy but there is still empty

 

Shadows creep back in, embracing any good thing in sight

And hugs…hard. Tight. Unyielding. Unforgiving.

How dare you?

Why even try?

 

With the last stapled bunch, I end a chapter

In search of a book I’ve never known

A book that, for all I know, doesn’t even exist

I don’t know if I could write it

If that’s what it came to

 

There is no nostalgia

No relief

And if either existed for any length of time

The moment was brief

As if they never existed

Stars

I got carried away

One turned into many

Scraps of paper on my right

Shapes in my hands

 

An uncertain future?

Star.

A lack of hope?

Another star.

Existing in the in-between of meaningful and meaningless?

Yet another star.

 

It attracts and distracts

When the world is running faster

Something I can change

When my hands can’t hold much else

 

Alone, yet swarmed?

Star.

In darkness and light?

Another star.

Keeping muted screams in their place?

Yet another star.

Changes In My Head

I can’t sleep, but I have to.

And yet, I can’t stop thinking about all the ways my mind has turned over itself in such a short time.

I went from feeling okay, to feeling like a dissolving pitcher as it empties just that little bit of remaining water, if not totally empty.

I went from feeling empty to stable-ish, which isn’t much of a foundation to build on. But hey, I have to work from something, don’t I?

There are promises made and promises to keep. There is a milestone and a holiday, a gift and memories to make. However, there is also an uncertain future ahead, and in those times of emptiness, I’ve wondered if that uncertainty is a closing book that just…ends.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t been at this point at any other part of my life. It’s the first time that an ending this substantial means to lead onward to new experiences. It should be empowering and fill me with zeal, but now it does just the opposite. It frightens me, and it gets worse every time I think I find an opportunity to shine, then follow by discovering I can’t do it for some reason. Some hope remains, but not enough to act, surely.

It’s possible that I’m being melodramatic, but it’s impossible to fake the empty times. They’re overbearing to the point of existing as their own being, outside my mind and control, acting as they see fit, beyond my input. That’s why it feels so hard to overcome them, because I can hardly maintain meaningful friendships. So why would it be any different in this context?

I stand at the crossroads, feeling tired and scared in a way that feels more like complacency. No one can predict the future, including me, and I’m not berating anyone for it. There have been many a time at the end of a semester when I’ll become so comfortably numb to the stress around me, but it’s not because I’m confident. It’s because I’m already too stressed out, and I’m left with one of two options: 1) Be a ball of stress, whining and complaining as I go with reckless abandon; or 2) Turn everything off.

I used to like staying up late at night because it was quiet enough for me to think without the outside world providing noise pollution. Now, the pollution is in my head.

When You Do(n’t) Suffer From Mental Illness

When you don’t tell people what you go through, it’s like setting yourself up for disappointment from the get-go. You keep your secrets because if they’re too dark for you, you don’t want to drag them down, too. Those secrets start to meld into your identity, to the point where there’s no use in separating them because you lost sight of the differences. If you finally say something like, “I suffer from mental illness,” in front of people you’ve never let into your broken parts, something’s bound to send you spiraling down.

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Stay. Be Found.

In a previous post, I wrote a reflection based on lyrics from Waving Through A Window from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. At the beginning of National Suicide Prevention Week, and on World Suicide Prevention Day, it was a starting point where I shared my own struggles to let people know they weren’t alone. Well, the TWLOHA campaign I’ve been talking about a lot officially ended yesterday, but the message must keep traveling to everyone who needs it. Even though official campaigns are coming to an end, the world isn’t fixed and there are still people who feel trapped inside their own heads.

I want to offer an encouraging message alongside the lyrics of You Will Be Found, also fromΒ Dear Evan Hansen.

Continue reading “Stay. Be Found.”