I Fucked Up!

Remember in my last post that I survived yet another year of life, yeah I kind of went a bit out of control last night and nearly wanted to leave it at that and cut my life short. Not really though. I again was just talking some big talk because I didn’t want to actually kill myself last night I just wanted my body to feel the pain that has been in my mind for the last few weeks but especially the past week.

For the most part, I gave myself to high of expectations for my birthday celebrations.  Last Thursday, there was plans to have an actual night out especially for my birthday, which was Sunday. It ended up with no one going out last Thursday which made me kind of depressed in a way because I really wanted to go out and it was my motivation to get through the week. To be fair there was someone else who wanted to go out and I gladly would have gone out with just them but I guess just two people going on a night out isn’t a thing it only works with groups. I stayed in and played trivial pursuit with my housemates and two people from my class.  We drank, we laughed, we all lost to one of my housemates. It was a fun night, I had just been so excited to go out and celebrate my birthday. It’s not something I ever really celebrate but this year I felt like I had people in my life that would be willing to go out and celebrate the fact that I’m alive. Throughout the night I got slowly more depressed. I was out of it most of the night. I wasn’t really paying attention to anything, except drinking. I was just thinking and making everything a lot worse in my head. One of my roommates noticed that I was being quieter than normal. I do think that it is some skill to notice when I’m being extra quiet because I’m always fairly quiet. She told me that her and my other housemate had set up a group chat to organise a night out for my birthday and I cried. I think I might have mentioned this is the last blog so I won’t go on about it too much. From then on I got really excited about the following Thursday, yesterday, to see what it would be like to have a night out that was all about me. I had parties as a child but I felt like it my friends at the time had to go to it or only went to it because the day might be fun, not focused on me at all really.

The same thing happened again last night. Nothing really happened to go out for my birthday. At least I did get to go out with people I’m friends with and really like to go out with and I tried to make the most of it but I still felt disappointed with the night. Again, this was no one’s fault except my own. I shouldn’t have had such high expectations. I was overthinking it way too much and getting myself excited for something I knew deep down was never going to go to plan. You think I would have learned by now to keep my expectations low but I guess it’s something I need to try and work harder at. To be fair, I can appreciate the good parts of the night. Like while the places we went to weren’t very busy, there was some good songs we danced to and I have some good memories from the night.

My mental breakdown began when we left Fabrik to go to Hennesseys and I was given the task to walk with two of my friends who were much drunker than I was. My other two friends drove there in one of the girls cars. While it wasn’t difficult or anything, and neither are bad drunks, I just felt stressed because what if something happened. If anything happened to either of them I would have felt guilty. I let one of them go ahead of us because I knew that he would be fine so long as he kept going in the right direction which he was. I talked to my other friend because I felt like that would be the best way to keep her mind from wandering and thinking about stopping or going somewhere else. Either way we all made it there. We each got a shot of sambuca when we got into the bar and god knows I needed that. Then when the two friends who drove arrived in I left them for a few minutes to find some of the friends from my class that I knew were out to so I went outside to the smoking area to say hi to them. I went back to where the friends I went out with were and they were nowhere to be seen. I walked around the pub three times and gave up. I thought that they left me. So in an effort to block out the feeling that they had left me behind and gone home, I bought two drinks and planned to down them to try and get myself drunk enough to forget. It’s not even though I was alone all that long but a minute in real time is the equivalent to like a half an hour in drunk time. After I was with my friends from my class for a while, I saw the friends I had gone out with appear. I went over to them with my two drinks still pretty much full. I told them I thought that they had left me and they were like “No, we were just in the bathroom because one of the girls were getting sick.” It never occurred to me that they would have been in the bathroom. I’m such an idiot. Then I proceeded to yell out all the messed up stuff I had planned to do in that short time that they had left me. “I’m was going to drink as much as I could and then go home and cut my arms a lot.” My friends were like “WHAT??!” Then one of the girls, the one I had walked to from Fabrik to Hennesseys with, sat down next to me and talked to me about what was going on.  It did calm me down a bit but in the back of my mind I couldn’t get rid of the thought of cutting. I almost did it last Thursday when I didn’t go out for my birthday.

We went to get food after that before we went home and while we were sitting waiting for it I got given out to by one of the girls. She said “Right well what’s ever going on with you, you have to stop putting all the blame on Jodi. It’s not like it’s her fault.” It wasn’t her fault and I didn’t think that I had been putting the blame on her. I prefaced anything I said to her with “This is my own fault, I had too high expectations.” I was only telling her what I had been thinking not giving out to her because her was somehow her fault which it wasn’t. Granted yes, anytime we had a fight before on a night out, I was giving out to her because of problems I had made in my own head. Again, not her fault but those times I had yelled at her and made it seem like she had caused it. I didn’t want that to happen again. So last night I made sure that I didn’t act like that. I didn’t want her to think I was putting blame on her because it’s just unnecessary and completely untrue that any of my problems are her fault. She did seem to be a bit upset but that was more so because of the extreme feelings of awful that I was feeling. I kept saying to her not to get upset about it because like there was no reason to. I need to try and keep my mouth shut on night on. They might have been having a fairly good night and I feel like I just ruined it. I’m really sorry about that. She told me I don’t need to say sorry about it but I feel bad about it. Jodi came up to my apartment for a fag before going off to bed and then my housemate and another friend from my class came in just before she left. I say goodbye to her and that I’d see her Monday. Then my friend from my class left and then my roommate went to bed. I then went and got a knife that I had bought at the start of the year and slashed my arm so badly. Usually, as if this is a common occurance, when I used to cut I had a limit. I would stop once I did it about three or four times provided that there was at least two adequate cuts made. This time I just kept going and I have 16 cuts covering most of my arm and about 7 of them bled. I know it’s stupid and I shouldn’t have done it. I knew while I was doing it. I knew when I was planning. I knew when I looked at it and couldn’t and can’t stop looking at it since I’ve done it.I have to deal with the constant stinging and pain that these scars are currently causing me. I don’t know if it’s because I can’t remember the feeling or because it’s been so long since I’ve done it but these scars really hurt like a lot. I now have to actively wear long sleeves and make sure no one of any authority sees them or I could get sent to somewhere I don’t want to go.  I don’t need to talk to some professional. I don’t even need to really talk about all my problems to people. Sometimes I just want to talk to someone. Anyone. When I can’t I get frustrated. Some of the things this week that made me incredibly stressed and upset was people talking over me, immediately shutting down my ideas, and just making me feel small. I said very little and everything seemed to be wrong even though I knew I was right and they eventually realised that I was write but that didn’t stop them from shutting me down.

I do realise that I have been really selfish to do all of this. My birthday was by no means awful or even bad. It was probably one of the best I ever had. Going out on Sunday night, the actual day of my birthday, for my 4th year friends birthday celebrations because it was his birthday too helped that a bit. I mean they made sure I was included in well wishes and wanted me to feel like I was being celebrated too. I got given birthday presents that mean so much to me that I can’t even describe what I feel when I look at them. They make me feel loved. My issue this time wasn’t completely a feeling of being unloved or not cared for like it was pretty obvious this week that I’m loved. It was still part of it because I always have that doubt and it will never go away. It really was a lot of problems I made in my own. I have actually learned how to deal with my mental health issues it’s just every now and again I forget how to deal with it or else I just need a break from trying to keep it together all the time.  I hadn’t cut myself since the 11th September. That was almost 5 months where I was free of self harm. I had the desire to do it for the last week and a half but other than that I had been totally fine. Even when I found out I failed an exam I knew that if I cut myself it wouldn’t make matters better. It wouldn’t change anything. I didn’t give it a second thought, I knew self harm was not an option. It was something I was done with, or so I thought. I don’t have a desire to do it again. In saying that though I need to keep saying to myself “I do not want to cut again” until these scars heal and fade. Well that’s if they do fade. I need to remind myself of how bad it is to do and how it solves nothing. There is always substitutes for self harm. I could write a blog instead. I could try and busy my mind with something like a video game so I’m not thinking about what is wrong with me.

I am more than just thankful of the support that I do have. I have friends who really care about me and they worry about me. They were concerned when I had done this to myself and to be honest I was concern for myself. I was worried I would do something worse to myself. I need to listen to the advice of my friend Dexter, who is the best friend I could ever ask for and I miss that I don’t get to seem him everyday like I used to. He’s also skilled at noticing when there is something wrong with me when I’m being quieter than usual. He said to me earlier when he called me that I need to “go be a college student. Take care of myself and forget about caring other people for a while.” He’s right, he’s so right. I feel like I haven’t felt like a college student since first semester of 1st year. Since I had developed so many friendships going into second semester of 1st year, I let everything to do with college go out of my mind and I focused so much on caring about my friends. Yes, I still submitted all my work and made it this far,but I’d say most of my brain power over the last year has been used to care and be concerned about my friends. I wasn’t actively doing things to help my friends but I was always worried about them constantly. I think I need to take a break and switch that part of my brain off for a while. Ok well not switch it off but let’s pretend like it’s a dimmer switch and it’s currently at 100% so  I need to turn it down to about 40% for a little while. I need to focus on my college work this semester and bring up my GPA because it took quite a hit after failing an exam. Then also, I obviously need to try and cut myself some slack and allow myself to make some mistakes and also to try different opportunities because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with my life. I don’t really know what I’m trying to achieve with the course I’m doing. I honestly picked it because it sounded fun. I do have an interest in media as well but it just looked fun to do. I need to really try and find what I’m good at and try and work that into as much of my college work as I can in order to make it a bit easier for myself.

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19 And I’m Still Alive!

If you asked me when I was six years old if I would have made it to the age of 19 I would have said “Of course I will sure I’ll die when I’m about 50 because that is old.” However if you would have asked me the same question when I was about 12 I would have said “No, I don’t think I will even make it to 13.” I am more than shocked that I have made it this far. I never thought I’d realistically make it past 14 let alone all the way to 19. However, I have to say that 18, like what I said about 2016, is the best worst year I’ve ever had.

Since I was about 8 or 9 I have wanted to either end my own life or wish someone would end it for me because I hated myself and my life so much. Things started to look up when I was in 6th year and I made a friend who I genuinely loved to be around and I felt like in that year of school I was really accepted.

Since being at college, I have enhanced that outlook of being accepted even more and I have begun to feel incredibly loved. It is something I doubt every single day of my existent but in the last week I really feel like that was proved. My roommates started a group chat to discuss plans for my birthday night out. My birthday has never been celebrated outside of eating cake with my family and sitting at home like any normal day since I was about 11 or 12. Since then I had hated my birthday. No one ever cared about it. Most people would forget it. Me being born wasn’t important to anyone. I might as well not have been born for the nothingness it was worth. The fact that my housemates wanted me to have and actually were organizing a proper party and celebration for me, brought me to tears. I’ve never had so many people care about me and care so much that they would even focus on making a night especially for me.

Over the weekend while I was at home with my family, my birthday was pushed to the wayside and all focus was put on my brother and his engagement to his girlfriend. Sure in some alternative universe this would be exciting but not in this one at this point in time. I couldn’t wait to get back to Tralee all weekend because I wanted to be with people that would actually want to think about my completion of another year on this earth rather than my brother getting engaged and the plans for the wedding at the tender age of 21. All weekend was focused on him and my mom was just worried about wedding plans.

It wasn’t until I got a phone call at around 10 to 11 Sunday morning, the day of my birthday, that I remembered that it was me I should be thinking about not that wedding. Jodi rang me and being the total loser that she is, sang me the entire happy birthday song over the phone. Not just one line, the whole thing. Needless to say that when I got off the phone all I could do was smile and be content in my existence. I honestly didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day. I didn’t care if I got any more birthday wishes, which at the time I had very few, I was just so happy that I could have gone the rest of the day without anything else.

Yesterday evening I saw Jodi again because one of our other friends also had their birthday the same day as me. So Jodi was here to go to that party but also said she’d call up to my house while she was there. I saw her walking up the stairs to my place with a small little gift bag and I was said “Surely that’s not for me?” Jodi replied saying “No of course not it’s for someone else.” While I knew her tone was of a joking matter, I genuinely believed it wasn’t for me. So when she got to the top of the stairs I asked her again “Is that for me?” She was like “Of course it’s for you, who else would it be for”. I dropped the half gone rollie I was smoking and hugged her. I’m not used to someone buying me presents and I get really emotional at the thought of someone thinking about me and going out and buying me something. It’s not like these things were overly expensive but the price isn’t the important thing about this, it’s the sentiment. I got Harry Potter slippers and a phone case and photo frame that told me to go after my dreams. The presents themselves mean so much to me just because of the thought that was put into them and how much I needed things like this. I mean it’s a type of encouragement I can see every single day telling me to follow my dreams that I wouldn’t have had before. I don’t think I would have had as great of a birthday as I did if it weren’t for Jodi. As much as I hate to say that one person and one person only is sole cause of happiness in my life, I think she truly is. At least for the most part but I think that on ones birthday it’s not a bad thing. It should be a day where people are thriving to make sure you actually have a “Happy Birthday” not just saying it. I have never felt more loved than the moment she handed me the bag of presents. I also really like everything she gave me which surprises me because I am inherently picky. Currently it’s enough motivation to bring me to 20 because this was the best birthday I’ve ever had because of all the love and caring that people had for me, it can only go up from here, right?