We live in a world where people are so accepting of any body part breaking down other than our brains. Society has created a negative stigma associated with mental illnesses. And that’s ignorance. And that ignorance has created a world that doesn’t understand mental illnesses.
I used to be that person. I used to think I understood what a mental illness was. What anxiety was, or how it felt. I was so wrong. Until you’ve actually experienced living with a mental illness, you have no idea the depths of damage it can do. I was so naïve. Most people are naïve.
It continues to kill the people we love around us every second of the day, and it’s going to keep doing this until our society is acceptable and willing to change the awful stigma that surrounds it.
Mental illnesses are just as daunting as physical illnesses. Not many people understand this. Not many people are willing to speak up about their mental illness.
But I am.
Every day is a struggle. I have to wake up and pretend. I have to pretend like I enjoy my life. When all I want to do is go back to bed. I have to somehow find the will power to get up and get dressed, continue my day and go to work. I have to literally pull everything that’s left inside of me to get through a day. It’s a lot harder than it sounds.
I have to pretend to be ok. I have to pretend to the world that I’m fine. I have to put on this front for my family, friends, boyfriend, anyone that I come across. One of the only ways I can communicate my pain to others is by writing my blog.
Waking up every morning not knowing who I am anymore, not knowing what I want in my life or what I want in my future is no way to live. This new life of mine is still an alien to me. I’m going through the motions, but I don’t recognize the world around me. I feel like a foreign visitor in a new country. I feel so helpless sometimes. But I have no other choice.
You didn’t leave me any other choices Austin.
I’ve made so many positive changes externally in my life lately. A new job, apartment, boyfriend, etc. I’m seeing a therapist, psychiatrist and on new medication. You think by making the extra effort that I would feel different. Yet, at the end of the day I still feel the same inside. Nothing has changed. I still feel just as empty and lost as I did since the day you left me.
There’s nothing else I can physically or emotionally do to try to make things better. I had to start over with my whole life. The life I used to know is gone forever.
How can I move on with my life? I can’t heal myself, but then again no one will be able to ever heal me. I’ve come to that realization in the past few weeks. Nothing can heal my heart. Nothing can replace you. Nothing can ever fill that void. Nothing can ever bring you back to me.
It’s a sickening and depressing thought, but it’s reality and it’s my life. It’s been 2 years and I’m still grieving. Loosing you is something I will never be able to get over, or move on from.
I’m going to grieve the rest of my life, because you aren’t in it anymore.
Until next time.
So it goes.