It's Not Just Another Realm in Sober

I feel that I’m a different person every week now.

Of course, my mental illness has gotten worse.

My current diagnosis makes that obvious.

But I mean, it’s worse from my teenage mental progression, where I would notice it get worse every year. Maybe being busy with school helped with that. Now, I have an episode at least once a week. My mood fluctuates every other day usually. Last time I thought I needed therapy, I went and got help. Then I thought I didn’t need it anymore, like most of my life. Now, I know I really need it again. More than just therapy.

Like, as an adult, when I have a job, I seem to do okay.
Keeping my mind busy with work tasks, having a schedule and routine. Earning money.

I’ve come to the realization that people really do make me worse. That may seem obvious but it’s not the same for everyone. Some people are mentally healthier by being extremely social with other humans, even during stressful times (that emotional support). But for me, when things get complicated with people I’ve socialized with (one being that I don’t get emotional support), it ruins me too much, rarely just mild hurt. Mainly because the people I socialize with are out of choice and I want to be close to the person and bond, or try to, and develop specific feelings (not always intimate) that are special to me. Which doesn’t happen with just anyone, obviously.

A few things I’ve learned is that I messed up by being available too often, expecting the good/best in people and or simply trying to be positive by ignoring the red flags. From being naive, oblivious, and optimistic, that those bad things weren’t a big deal. That as long as I didn’t make it an issue, it wasn’t going to be. But those things became an issue just for the fact that I was aware of them, I think. By giving time to specific people that ended up doing things that hurt me.

Now I see the world a different way. In a way I think I need to but I don’t like it.
I don’t like how it feels. This feeling I have now, about myself, others, and life, in general, makes me want to really give up. I’ve been suicidal since a teen, but as an adult, it would only get worse for someone like me.

In a way, I deserve what happened to me because of my impulsiveness to leave my insecurities behind but things didn’t have to be that way either. I could have taken things a positive way if my mind allowed me too (I actually tried to) but I also could have been treated way better than I was treated. I could have been treated the way I expected. I know how that sounds. I know you just rolled your eyes. Cringe at what else I have to say… I could have been treated the way it was intended or the way I was manipulated to believe. I could have been ghosted. I was expecting it. But why would someone come to me, to where they had no benefit, to remain in a relationship with me?

Then again, I took it as my last resort instead of running away alone. It was the biggest thing that happened to me in every way. I can even say that it may be the best thing that happened to me; only if my future is a million times better.

But I doubt I’ll enjoy life again.

Considering that I don’t think I’m ready to get over what happened to me. I don’t want to let go yet. Maybe there is something I still have to learn from the past couple of years. Maybe I think I deserve the worse. Maybe I don’t think I’m capable of making things better for myself. Maybe I’m just afraid of fucking up again and worse.

Last updated April 26, 2019