This is my first ever one of these journal type posts, I honestly have no idea what I am doing, just happy to be going with the flow. I hope you enjoy reading the inner ramblings of my mind.
Sometimes I joke with people that if I died and went to hell that I wouldn't even notice for a week. Some weeks, there is definitely more truth in that than others. This week I'd say it's a pretty accurate statement.
I feel like I am drowning underneath oceans of papers, school work and pressure. After days (but let's be honest felt like months) of what was questionabley a mental breakdown I wanted to just give up.
Everyone tells me mental illness is about fighting. Fighting your demons, fighting the darkness and fighting the overwhelming feelings of self hatred.
Often with weeks like these for me it's just about surviving. Sometimes all I can do is feed myself, shower myself and wear some comfortable clothes. Some days all I can manage is to is breathe.
I didn't make this post to complain and like the rest of us with mental illness it isn't about pity. It's about how all the cuts form scars, just like all our battles build strength.
You think I'd hate my illness and my overactive mind for putting me through these unnecessary hardships. But I don't. Although over this last week as darkness had a grip, my life was a little de-railed. My house a mess, my hair matted and my body felt like it'd been hit by a bus.
But these are the temporary prices we pay for having a bad week. Which can all be amended, I can brush out the matts and clean my house.But the inner strength and resilience I have gained over the last 21 years of this battle will stay with me for the rest of my life.
So here I am. I finally got around to washing my hair and room is still a pigsty. But I am feeling grateful and proud of all that I am; strengths and weaknesses.
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