Asking For Help

img_4606Asking for help. Or admitting that I needed to ask for help. Or saying that I’m not feeling okay or that I’m not okay. Whether your journey with depression is old or new, the moment you have that realization that you need help is never easy.

I’ve talked and written a lot about my mental health journey, and still very much stand behind the fact that I think, that it’s a illness that you never fully “recover”, it’s something you learn to live with and find ways to deal. But when those ways don’t work and there’s too much stress over shadowing your life, it can be that depression is able to take the front seat without you even really noticing, before it’s “too” late.

Even with my open approach to my depression journey, the moment doesn’t get any easier for me. I still feel like I’m shit at everything and my self worth is just non existing. The loser feeling that my depression is able to put me under is so tiring that I just want to cave under it. It’s so hard to see anything positive, while at the same time you’re able to smile at certain things like before. As being depressed or living with depression doesn’t mean always or all the time that you are just lying in bed not doing anything about anything and wishing for your own death. That can happen, but there’s mostly days when you live your normal life and in those days you have moments when the pure weight of life is making your knees buckle. And those are the ones when your depression is able to weasel it’s way back to being the “main” feeling.

I’ve been struggling with my life and how much it’s full of change and uncertainty lately, not being able to just embrace it all. There’s been just too much. Way too much. And for example, I’ve really amazing things to wait to happen, trips to do, and I have nothing in me to truly feel exited. I know that I will be so happy while on them but at the moment, emotions of excitements are missing. It’s hard to push on when you are really struggling.

I managed to say to three people today that I need help. Two of them are my closest friends and I managed to say that I am not okay. One of them is my best friend, who knows me to the bones and back, who is able to listen and knowing really those feelings and bringing ways to see this all a bit lighter. The fact that I was able to say that I need help is huge to me, I remember times when that was just not even an option.

But the thing is, honestly, that admitting to yourself that you’re not okay is hard as fuck. You know in you that you are not shit like your depression makes you feel. You know that you are doing the best you can, and that feeling like you are a no good loser who never does anything good and doesn’t even know anything, is also coming from your depression. But those all are such a strong ghost to push out of your way that they have a tendency to suck you in, even for a bit. Depression is a bit of a motherfucker like that. It will find your weak moments to suck the last energy out of you.

Life is hard, and there comes moments when you just have had enough of those little things, which have piled to one huge one and you are ready to explode. I was so close to that yesterday and today I felt that it might really happen when I just start yelling out of nowhere because I’m so tired of so many things and couple small nonsense comments were almost able to push me over that edge. Edge that I have never crossed before in my life. But I’m so tired of feeling like my opinions don’t matter, and making myself smaller in front of certain people, tired of feeling like I’m not good enough. I think I’ve reached my limit and at the same time know and value my own self value. Finally.

I’m grateful that I’ve worked so hard with myself to find ways to live with my depression. I’m so damn grateful that I am so brave that I am able to say, with a lot of shitty feelings, that I am not okay and that I need help. I am so so grateful for my closest friends, for being there, understanding, listening, bringing some peace into this stormy mind and life of mine. I love you, thank you.

PMA ❤

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Tired Of Struggling. In Life. Honestly

IMG_0752-0I’m so damn tired of struggling. In life. With those basic adult things that others seem to have all down. Struggling with everyday issues, like money, like where to live as a 32 year old, what to do for living to be able to be independent, like not feeling as lost with this all as I in all honesty do.

It’s close to 5 years or maybe even more since I had my own place to call home. A place that I paid the rent for and had like I want my home to look like. I didn’t have much there but it was mine and it was my safe haven where I could just be.

It’s almost 10 years since I had normal adult person bank credits, as in not having lost them, as in not having a big ass debt, and now being in a situation that I feel at times that I don’t have a future. Because I messed up as a very young and confused person, with severe mental health issues at the time. And I was medicating that feeling with buying and trying to be someone I’m not, because I was so afraid to really open myself and admit that I need help.

It’s a long long time since I had a regular day job, where I get a proper paycheck once a month, and with that being able to live a normal life, without the day to day struggle that I am in now.

My depression is definitely one big reason for being in my situation now. The fact that I lived in a time when having the certain outlook of yourself was so important played a part too. Me growing up when Finland had a huge economic depression, and not having maybe what others had, has something to do with it too.

And when I had my first real job, I just used my money like there was no tomorrow, because all of sudden I had some and it was mine. To make one thing very clear, I never felt that I was missing something growing up, I could not been more loved. But something in that time has left it’s marks in my age peers. I talked about this with my oldest friend just last week and we deeply agreed. Either you grew up to be super cheap and saved all your money, or you went to my direction.

The thing is that I’m not the only one with this situation, there’s too many of us in Finland, which is really sad. Things were different back then, too easy to get easy money and get trapped in it all. We are, I am, paying the price with my life. Pretty literally.

And when you try, you change your thinking and how you see the world, and go mentally forward. Ask for help, get help, open the whole bunch of embarrassing issues and go through them. Try to find a solution, find one but feel so tired at the same time, because you feel that you are just drowning and never being able to live a normal life again.

Now, almost 10 years later, my life is better in many ways that I couldn’t even dream back then. Myself, me, I am good. I have my ups and downs, my depression tries to creep up on me, but I have tools to live with it and I have the right kind of people around me. I’ve grown so much as myself that I still find it hard to see for myself. I don’t see my worth, there are moments but I need the reminder all too often from my friends. Material things just don’t mean what they did before, my belongings fit in my 120L Patagonia duffel bag still, except for all my books. I am happiest when I have really little. BUT. I am in a situation where I live at my parents place, not because I want to or enjoy it, but because I don’t have any other option, unless I find an apartment from the city, with council housing with the longest lines, where I live. I am 32, and I live at my parents. I feel the pressure to find my own place, for my own peace, for the peace of our whole family as this is not the way it’s supposed to be. I am insanely blessed to have this kind of family, because without them I have no idea what would’ve happened. I don’t know if I can ever really express how grateful I am for this and all before this. And it is very embarrassing to be the one that your closest friends pay lunches for because they know your situation, but at the same time know much it means to you to be able to pay for it yourself.

I am so tired of struggling. I am so tired of trying and working hard and trying and working hard and failing again and again. That might be more in me, the failing part of it, but it’s very real feeling in me. My trust in my own future is hanging on very thin thread at times. I made a simple mistake when I was young, mistake that snowballed so fast that it took over me, and now at my age I am paying such a huge price that it’s snowballing over my current life and trying to suck the last faith and hope out of me. I am struggling at days to have any kind of interest in trying, I’ve noticed how my depression has creeped it’s ugly self back and trying to get me to slowly give up. I know better but when you feel like the biggest loser example of how NOT to do things, it’s really fucking hard to not give up.

I have a feeling that some people think that I have somehow loads of money and because of that am able to do certain things. Nope. I don’t. I struggle every damn day to be able to eat lunch, because if I do, I know that I won’t probably have money for the whole month. I’ve been interning for quite many years, with really small amount of money in the hopes of it all getting better with getting that job after the interning period ends. Things don’t always go as you or your workplace hopes.

The choices I make with my money, are very thought out, I buy quality clothes and shoes so that they last long, my running gear is very very used and I am so blessed to have been given some gear from my friends all over the world, without them my running life would be a lot harder. I might prioritize my money to being able to travel to a place where I’ve never been to see those people I love the most, who I don’t see as much I would want and need to. But that all means that I will be so broke that I need to think half way through the month if it all makes sense. It does when I see my friends and am able to hug them and feel like a whole person, even for a weekend.

I still don’t have a clue where I would feel like home. I am still searching for my home place, country, spot, whatever. It’s not in Finland, but this is the place I need to be now, whether I want or not, and I need to do my all to make it good while I am here.

And now that I am waiting to get my wrist operated and knowing that after that I’ll be out of the working game for few months, doesn’t make me feel any better, it makes me proper terrified, to the broken bones and back. Try to feel hopeful for your future with all of this…

The thing is that I know how blessed and privileged I am, and that keeps me very damn grounded. I have a life that is so good, I have too much to complain at all. But fuck I’m tired of this.

The saddest thing is that this almost seems to be like the new norm these days, there’s too many in too many different places who struggle, in one way or another, young people who are trying to see their future and trust in it while the world and it’s situation makes it nearly impossible. We’re being divided more and more to those who live and those who struggle with the simplest things in life. And we all just want to be happy, do something we enjoy most of time, be loved and love back, just the simplest things in life, nothing crazy.

I am so happy that my mental health is in a place where it is now, if I was in such a bad place as I was in my early twenties, I don’t think I would be here anymore with all of this. I am so happy to have my family and my friends in my life. I am so happy that I know myself the way I do. I am so happy to be able to grow older and be more and more confident in my choices and life and how I live and love it. I am so lucky, but I am also so fucking tired of struggling. I don’t need to have anything grandioso, I wish to have a little place to call my own home, to have a job that ables me to provide for myself, I still don’t want to have that much more than that one Patagonia bag.

The struggle makes you tired and sad. I am tired of that. But the deepest feeling is still hope and faith in better in me. So if you wonder why I am able to smile and laugh so much, it’s because I truly have gone and am going through something that makes me appreciate the simplest things in a way that I never thought possible.

ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE. LOVE. FAITH. HOPE. PMA ❤

Ageing. Am I Worthy? Why Is Time Just Flying Past Me?

img_4451I think I’m finally in some kind of age crisis. I turned 32 last Wednesday and couple of months before that and every day after has been just roller coaster of feels. Looking myself completely different than before, feeling like I need to rush to live through all the things “I’m supposed to” and trying to remind myself that I am okay and “still” have time.

There was this funny moment last week, maybe couple of days before my birthday, I was in a elevator and was looking at myself in the mirror and thinking that damn I look older than I thought. And then I came home later and looked at myself again in the mirror and smiled and thought that “you look really nice and beautiful”. This all in the time span of few hours. That kind of sums up how I have been feeling lately with this all, ageing and time flying past me.

It’s a funny feeling when you look at your hands and see that the skin on them isn’t that youthful as it was just a little while ago. Where did the time go?

While at the same time I could not care less anymore what others think about my looks or what and how I do and live my life, I really, really struggle with not letting certain things, opinions and vibes from others going in, so deep that they can ruin my whole day.

How do I learn how to not let others get to me on that level? I’m 32 and struggling with something so simple. There’s this huge controversy with this all. Why not care but care so much at the same time? That’s definitely my main goal in life, to one day not let all of it get to me like that.

But I have these moments of almost looking others like I’m completely standing still in my life and them doing and living and flying past me, and I can only watch them like a movie. Feeling like I’m not doing the right things. Feeling like I’m not “normal” 32 years old. Like I’m supposed to have that relationship and at least one child by now. But at the same time I feel that there’s so many people around me who are in a similar situation as me, feeling as lost and empowered at the same time. Not sure if that is a relief or if it brings even more confusion.

The evening of last Tuesday I turned my phone off, like actually off, deep down wishing and hoping that when I open it in the morning of my Wednesday birthday it will be filled with Happy Birthday wishes and love. And that is me being completely honest about how I really, truly, wished to happen.

And then when I woke up in the morning… there was one message, from a person I hadn’t had any communication for many many years. That made me feel super sad and alone and a bit embarrassed how bummed I was. I told about that all to my little Sister, and she looked at me really funny and slapped me gently on my fore head for that all. Which obviously kicked some sense in me, but at the same time I realised how basic human feeling that was, not wanting to feel alone and unloved on your birthday. In a way, I didn’t have anyone who “had” to remember my birthday outside my family. Of course I wished that my closest friends remembers it but they don’t have to, and for some reason I knew that they love me even if they don’t remember.

And few hours later, my phone was just buzzing with wishes. With words and photos in them that made me full on tear up and feel like the biggest idiot. So my feelings went from one to completely another end of the spectrum in one day. In the end I actually had the best birthdays I’ve ever had. I felt so loved and grateful in the end of it all. But it definitely made me think about this all. Because in the end it’s only one day. And I needed all of those reminders that I am good enough and lovable and that so many people really really care about me.

Why do we always feel that we’re not enough or worthy? Why is it so easy to think that about ourselves? Why all of sudden we feel old when we really still have loads of life ahead of us? Is it that we think that we’re done already? Why the doubt?

“She wants somebody to love
To hold her
She wants somebody to love
In the right way
She wants somebody to love
To hold her
She wants somebody to love
In the right way
She wants somebody to love
To kiss her
She wants somebody to love”

Zayn – She

Lately I’ve gotten very public reminders of my worth. From people who genuinely know my darkest parts, those that make you feel that you’re not worthy about yourself. I’ve always been good at helping others see and remind them of their worth but then I stumble this hard at times with seeing it myself. A forever struggle.

Maybe it’s part this year and the last year and what happened. Maybe the fact that I had to pick my pieces and really look myself in the mirror and admit that I didn’t do anything wrong and at the same time admit what I need to change to be okay and not let those hurtful things happen again. There are moments in our lives when we just stand in front of something bigger than ourselves and feel so damn small that getting past that feels too big of a task. I’ve been in that lately. The fact that my health issues and the wait for the operation on my wrist just flipped the whole year upside down. Me turning that obstacle to a challenge that I want to see more good than bad in. Me realising how much I love and yearn to be alone and at the same time miss and yearn being loved by that one special. It’s a weird combination of feelings. I realise that I am ready and that I’m not there yet. Maybe this is a good place to be, because honestly I don’t think we can ever really be ready.

I hope that I can find a balance in this all. I want to embrace this journey that is ageing and my life. Being okay with what it brings. Not feeling like I am not worthy no matter what has happened in my past. I have so much love to give and to receive. I want to learn and be in peace with patience. I want to take my life with no rush but jump bravely when it feels like that, like I’ve done before. I want to see myself how others see me, at least at times. Because even I know that I am enough and lovable and amazing!

PMA ❤

Depression. Epilepsy. Broken Wrist. What’s Next? Mostly Good I Hope

Photo by Markus Kontiainen

Photo by Markus Kontiainen

That’s how it has been. Depression. Epilepsy. And now broken wrist. And the last week and a half I’ve had time to think about this all. Thinking if this is some sick joke that I’ve had to deal with all of these in just few months.

Yes, I’ve had depression on and off since I was fairly young, runs in the family. But the last few years I’ve gotten the hang of that one, and know and feel when I’m “falling” and know what to do about that. And I’ve had epilepsy since I was 17, though the last 3 years without the medication and for almost 22 years without any seizures, until just before last Christmas and a week and a half ago. Oh yeah… And that broken wrist. I’ve written how I’ve managed to fall on my face couple of times last fall, but I got the news of my wrist being broken since last October and needing an operation involving a screw and bone from my hip, just on the Christmas week.

So with all of these, plus having some major heart brake issues, my interest in this all started to be under a rock. Since I met with my surgeon about my wrist early January, I’ve been more than down with my mood. The news about when and how the operation will be hit me really hard. I was smart enough to not google anything, but with nothing to wait, I was blindsided by it all. Now I’m on the waitlist for the operation which might be in two weeks or in 6 months. And the fact that after it I’ll be in recovery for 3 months. I just didn’t expect any of that. I guess I thought that it’ll be a day and then I’ll do some training with a physio and be done. To be honest, I have no idea what I expected.

The fact that I’m not capable of being myself 100%, is very and has been very disheartening. Yes, I’ve probably been a bit over dramatic about it, but hell, the fact that going from very athletic and capable to needing to ask for help with the simplest things and not being able to use your left arm is a bit shitty feeling. But all through all those feelings I’ve reminded myself that I have it good, it’s going to get treated and there are so many millions of people in the world who aren’t in the position I am and still won’t complain, so.

But what I’ve also been, has been depressed, tired to the level of light burnout, lost in the puzzle of people and how they treat you, and with all that in me already, my good old friend epilepsy paid me another visit. On a day when I last needed it, not sure if you ever need that but yeah. And at that point I just was too tired to be interested in anything. That was it for me. I had nothing in me to fight anything anymore. I was mad, sad and just thinking What’s Next? Bring It! I don’t even care anymore! Which is obviously total bullshit, because I’m incapable of not caring, but even I was close.

And when I was laying in the ER of the hospital and my doctor comes and says that we need to start your medication for the epilepsy again, I don’t know, I just broke a bit inside.

One of the biggest things for me has been that I’ve been able to balance my life in a way the last few years that I didn’t need the medication anymore. And now, knowingly what I shouldn’t do and what will trigger it, I’m back in a place in my life where I have to put few meaningful dreams aside because of it. There went my dreams of finally being able to drive a license and being able to do those road trips I’ve dreamt for a long time, going somewhere alone in a car I can sleep in. There also went the dream of living as clean as possible, as the idea of needing to eat that strong of a medication makes me sad and like I have no control over my own life.

In a way I was and have been mostly mad or disappointed at myself. Why with all the knowledge I have about my situation and my past, I go and do the exact opposite? Why I stop all that have made me feel that good and balanced my depression to a level that it’s almost non existing? Why I stop caring about my diet and think that something would have changed with me needing certain amount of sleep to keep my epilepsy in check? In the end I’ve been sabotaging my own self.

Why?

The way my last year went from start to finish has definitely had a part in that. It started and ended with a heart break. And now learning more and more about my HSP (highly sensitive person) and introversion, I’m not even surprised how puzzled it all made me. I lost myself in all of that, without realising that I need time to heal, really heal. I healed but not fully in spring time with running, I was heading to a great direction but I fell for someone too early and that was too good to not dive head first. Why not, I tend to believe in love no matter what.

But when I moved back to Finland, I was just in need of a change and I got that in the form of a completely new and exciting job. But as I do, I dove head first, and forgot that now I really need those good balancing teachings that I’ve practised so hard for couple of years. But when you’re excited you don’t have time to concentrate on things like good diet, sleep and exercise, right?!

So my first epilepsy seizure, late fall, tried to remind me of certain things without me listening to any of it. Then the news of my wrist tried to calm me down a bit, but it only made me angry and teenagey. So I needed the universe to really stop me cold with my second and hopefully last epilepsy seizure, to hopefully make me understand that it doesn’t make me a bad person if I’m not willing to risk my health for something else. No one made me or expected me to do that, just to make it clear, that was all me. But the challenge will be from now on, from next Monday when I go back to work. To find that balance, really work on me and finding ways to feel better.

Maybe this is part of some 30’s crisis, that I didn’t have when I was turning 30, or maybe this is some pressure that comes from the world we live in these days. No idea what, but I feel a lot of times we’re supposed and expected to be almost immortal and capable of everything without sleep and personal boundaries. The social media pushes new this and that to us all the time, and you feel even when you don’t really feel like that in you, that you need to want something or be something else that you are, or more this or that. I can’t do all of that. I’m one of those who are way too sensitive to be in front of all that all the time and try to exceed. I have no interest in exceeding because that’s impossible. That’s not me.

I saw an interview of Adele when her new album came out and the interviewer was asking does she miss being in the spotlight or does she have her own squad. What she answered was perfect. She said that not really because it’s not real life, and those who think that it is usually tend to be assholes. And that she has a squad, the ones that truly matter and care, and that it’s really small, and has gotten smaller and smaller the more known she is.

Without realising, that’s exactly what I’ve wanted to do for some time. To go in the background so to speak and just do my job really well. Push myself forward in those things, like writing and being healthy and a good friend and person, but doing it for me, not for others. And what I’ve noticed is that my “squad” is really small but the quality of it is off the roof! There’s spots in there for few more good ones, but my trust is a bit shakey these days so I apologise if it’s not that easy to get in. So again, less is more, in so many ways.

Also, how I feel about all these physical things that have been shaking my balance, is still something I thought long long time ago, I got them because something higher knew that I’m strong enough to carry them. I’m embracing this all now, it’s not all fun and games all the time, but I am embracing this and what it brings. I can assure you that starting your medication again and it making you feel like you are in a cloud of deep tiredness and foggy head and nausea, is not the way you want to spend a week, but I keep moving forward. I just needed to let myself feel all of that. I can’t be afraid of things that I love. I can’t stop being me, even if something like this is “back”. I am me, because I have all of these. There’s nothing wrong with me, and if they make someone think again about if they want to get to know me better, then that’s their lost, not mine. I do love myself like this, “flaws” and all. They are not flaws, they are parts of me.

LOVE. GRATITUDE. FAITH IN BETTER. PMA ❤

I want to thank all of you who have been my support through this. Thank you to my colleagues who helped and took care of me after my seizure. I am very grateful for this all, thank you.

 

Things That You “Shouldn’t” Speak Out Loud

img_3091Those things that you’ve been keeping inside of you for almost 20 years, or 10 years or couple of years. Those things that have made you who you are without you wanting anything to do with them. Those that been with you even though you would rather have all of them gone. Those that you feel embarrassed or ashamed or scared of. I’m talking about something that is probably the hardest thing to write “out loud” but also feel like it’s the most important thing to write Out Loud. I’m talking about how I’ve been living and carried with me the notion of someone abusing or harassing me, mentally or physically. And not just once, all those times when I knew that telling about them would do nothing. Or knew that I should tell but didn’t have the courage to do it, because I was so ashamed.

Like that time almost 20 years ago, when a boy I really liked, almost raped me. Saying while pulling my pants down, that it will only last a second and how it’s not going to hurt. And how me saying No, didn’t do anything to his attempts, before I manage to kick him away from me. And how I didn’t realize before just couple of years ago how wrong and huge thing that is. How it broke a piece of me when I was just starting to grow as a person and a woman.

Or when an old boyfriend in the middle of a fight hit my head to a wall and how him saying I’m sorry many times just made the whole thing disappear with time.

Or when studying at a restaurant school, working in the teaching restaurant, nervously taking an order, older man smiles at me and touches my butt. And me feeling like I can’t do anything about this, nothing, almost like it’s normal behaviour from men.

Or when someone decides that it’s completely okay for them to first send you dick picks to your email and then start to call you in the middle of the night just heavy breathing. And when you go to the police station to report him because his phonenumber wasn’t secret, they just say to you that they can’t do anything and that I should just change my phonenumber.

Or all those times when someone has used my kindness and mentally abused me and played with me, to a point when I think that I’ve done something wrong and I’m some piece of shit whore.

Or those days when it was so warm that I had to go on my runs late in the evening, wearing regular running shorts and a shirt, and being followed, yelled at, whistled, honked and followed with a car. And that terrifying knowledge in you that you can’t do anything and rather not even react because you’re alone there and have no idea what they can do if you say something to defend yourself.

There’s been a lot of talk about this subject lately in different medias. It’s made me sad, then angry, then sad and then feel that all those years of layers that I’ve built on top of those moments of feeling like nothing, are peeling off and me feeling pretty scared to feel and remember all of them again.

One thing that I’ve had in my life since I was a kid, has been mental harassment and violence. I’ve grown to it, thinking that it’s normal that someone does and says things like that. Which has followed me finding myself in similar relationships. Those years when I was growing to me and who I am as a woman, were scattered with different kind of abuse. And the saddest thing is that the world we live in makes you not want to talk about them, because the response usually is something like “are you sure it really happened like that?” or “I think you’re over reacting” or “are you sure it’s not your fault too?” or “that’s only your side of the story”.

I remember how when I was in my early twenties, I turned the whole thing around trying to be in control, by using my sexuality as a tool. Thinking that if I’m strong and sexy and “willing”, then I’m in control. Which obviously wasn’t right. Because what had happened in my past, had left pretty damn dark scars in me, which meant that I was terrified when it got “down to it”. I was able to talk dirty and tease but when it got to the actual thing, I could not be more scared.

The way guys were and still are, selfish in how they behave when it comes to sex, makes you feel like your pleasure isn’t worth the same as theirs. So you give more than you receive and feel guilty when you say that this is not right. Or even just wanting more  than you were given, aka what you deserve equally. But when you have those memories of someone touching you or trying to touch you in a way that you didn’t want or feel at all comfortable with, it’s even harder to be you with all of you. You feel so strongly that you don’t deserve anything and that you’re not worthy, you’re nothing in a way.

It’s really scary how things that could feel really small to someone, can hurt and leave deep deep scars in another. The moment you feel insecure when you walk out the door, is already too much. Or when you feel that it’s better that I don’t say what happened, because it doesn’t lead to anything better. Or when you just know that you will never hear “I’m sorry for what I did” from that person whose used you in one way or another. It’s also really scary how so much of mental or verbal abuse happens close to us. It comes from those who should never, ever talk to you like that. Any more than some random drunk guy trying to put their hand in your crotch or say something completely wrong to you.

Those years when I was supposed to grow as a woman and me, were the worst because I was broken to pieces and didn’t even realize that I had been done that. I thought that it was something that I did, or at least was made to feel like that. When I was already feeling super insecure with myself, and didn’t believe that I deserve only the best, like anyone else.

The way words can hurt you as much or even more at times than any physical deed, is something I’ve only woken up the last years of my life. I’ve gotten it close to me and from people I have no idea who they are. How someone can make you feel with just few words and take your whole being away, is really terrifying.

Now that I’m starting to be myself and knowing who I truly am under all of those layers, I’m also seeing myself as that woman I am and want to be. Knowing my worth. But at the same time it’s the most terrifying moment when you get all of those layers peeled off from yourself and realize how much wrong have been done to you. I feel more naked now than I ever did when I wrote about my depression. I feel scared how people think of me when I’ve been honest about something like this too. Thinking that maybe there’s so many things wrong with me that they don’t want anything to do with me. Or maybe I’m able to be there for someone whose been in a situation like I have. I know that saying things like this out loud can cause a “shit storm” but at the same time, if I ever want to be free from this, it’s better to get it out. This just happens to be my way, because deep inside me, I wish that I can help at least one person with this, while I am healing myself.

I’m tired of being afraid of speaking the whole truth. I’m tired of feeling I’ve done something wrong, when I’m the one whose been done wrong. I’m tired of thinking that I don’t deserve the best. I’m tired of our society blaming every girl as soon as they learn to walk. I’m tired of thinking that what I wear is somehow too much or too little. It’s a never ending cycle of something. I’m tired of someone thinking that they can control my life when I’m the only one who can do that decision. I’m tired of being scared to be me, whole me. I’m tired of carrying all those scars and broken pieces that I didn’t have anything to do with. I’m tired of hiding things. I’m tired of feeling like my happiness is always less than someone else’s. I’m tired of feeling less. I’m tired of being the one who someone thinks they can strip from my self worth. I’m tired of feeling afraid.