Why My Brain Sucks 9

Back in #6, I wrote about feeling physically ill when I’m happy about something. Now, I’m going to let you in on another way my brain sucks: it makes me miserable just ahead of something that already sucks.

Allow me to explain.

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Why My Brain Sucks 8

In a post from last year, titled “I Should Be Happy,” I talked about finishing my undergraduate education and not feeling the familiar giddiness of reaching a goal–of a job well done. I’m here to tell you that feeling has not gone away.

In fact, it’s only gotten worse.

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Why My Brain Sucks 7

In the trash heap I call my room, I examine my options and possibilities.

The new year has arrived, and it doesn’t seem like a whole lot has changed. I would be naive to think everything would instantly change once the ball dropped, so trust me, that isn’t my mindset. Over time, though, it seems there has been a cushion period between the end of one year and a few days into the next year. In that period, people execute the beginnings of their resolutions and are still trying to figure stuff out. After this period, the new crazy starts to come out, and the year is in full swing.

Well, crazy came early, and that’s why my brain sucks.

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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.

Continue reading “When You Do(n’t) Suffer From Mental Illness”