Christmas Eve (sucks)
Christmas is the biggest cliche and con, ever. A whole year is planned around one stupid day that encourages consumerism and materialism and forces people to pretend to be happy because it is Christmas.
As years have gone by I have resented the festive holidays even more. I want to enjoy it but I feel fraudulent pretending to play happy families when it's really not a very happy time for me at all. Why should I have to pretend that everything is fine when it is far from good?
It's Christmas Eve and I'm sat in bed after gulping down half a bottle of red wine on my own. I've taken my prescribed tablets that I know will react to the alcohol but I don't care. Do I want to die? No. But I want the pain I'm feeling to go away and if that so means that I'll fall asleep and not wake up, that's alright with me. My mind is conflicted. I'm up, I'm down, I'm up, I'm down. It's continuous and it's exhausting. I either stay sober, sensible and really think about my actions and planning how I do things or I throw my hands up, say fuck it and run riot, which is more like my personality. That's if I just say, fuck everything, I'm just going to be myself, which is reckless. I am reckless. I have a reckless and addictive but troubled personality, I cannot help that.
Which is why I believe I am, not only depressed or anxious, but I am living with an undiagnosed bipolar disorder. I am absolutely sure of it. I have periods of depression, yes, which in this instance, has lasted for fucking months, but then other months I'll be on top of the fucking world no one can stop me, I'll feel like I'm better than everyone else and won't care or be worried about anything. Both sides are equally as enthralling except when I'm on a spending rampage and suddenly am washed with guilt because I've spent my whole month's wages on absolutely fuck all.
I'm not here to moan or wallow in self-pity. I used to handwrite in my journal but writing on my blog is simply more convenient because I'm a quick typer. Writing helps me get everything I'm thinking down so I don't have to abuse or swear at the poor sod who is in front of me, whoever that may be. I have a very short temper and zero tolerance/patience. I don't know why. Sometimes it could be someone's tone or simply one word that can trigger me - something erupts inside of me and if it keeps being prodded (which it usually does, in my mum's case) there will be a situation where I can no longer control my actions. I'll essentially blow up, have no recollection of what I've said or done then I'll go through a sudden wash of depression, full of tears and guilt of thinking about what I could've said and the 'Oh fuck, what did I do?' thoughts rolling through my already busy mind.
Perhaps this is a cry for help. For months I've considered checking myself into a mental hospital because I feel I simply cannot cope with this on my own in everyday life. I cannot cope with this at all and the longer I leave it properly untreated I'm worried that I'll lose control completely and in my current frame of mind, which has improved since I've stopped drinking the wine and have taken a sleeping pill, I do not want this condition to worsen. I want to get better but I don't think I can do it alone or even with the help of my family, whom, might I add, are very supportive but sadly it is not enough. I'm past the point of their support now and as much as they probably don't want me to go to the hospital or, dare I say it, be 'sectioned', I, personally, believe it's my only option and they should probably just let me do it. I feel it is wholly necessary and I have no shame about it. I'd rather stand up tall and admit that I have issues that need resolving and I feel very comfortable with giving that responsibility to health care professionals who can understand what I'm feeling and treat me adequately.
I've seen my mental health decline in the last couple of years. I've seen my personal relationships fail, friends, family and boyfriends. I've never blamed anyone else for their actions (in some circumstances I have because actually others have been complete arseholes) but I do look at myself and I try to make those changes. I am happy to put up my hand and admit, yeah I was a cunt in that situation, fuck me, I need to stop behaving in that manner otherwise I'm literally going to have no friends by the end of it, and no one wants that. I don't want that. So I look inwards, that's the only way I will grow. And I do try. But we are human and humans make mistakes. Some make mistakes time and time again but we must learn to forgive. I'm still trying to forgive my biological parents for abandoning me as a child because they felt their life of crime and drugs was far more important than raising their own family. I still hate them for that, even to this day, even when they try to contact me and we chat but I feel I have no connection to them. How can I have a connection to people to were disloyal and were easy to throw me away like that?
I know I just spoke about forgiveness and one day I hope I do forgive them and we can move forward but sometimes people, depending on circumstance, should only be given one chance. There are far more people out there in this world that will make the time for you, who will respect and love you for who you are, so what are we doing wasting our time with those who don't? Family or not family, it applies across the board. I'm so done with making excuses for people, if you disrespect me or you are behaving in a manner that makes me feel uncomfortable then I don't want to be around you nor do I want to forgive you for something you did 23 years ago because you made your decision, I've gone through hell because of it, and now you must lay in the bed you made for yourself. Suffer the consequences.
I've definitely gone on a bit of a rant here but quite frankly it was clearly needed from my side. I have a lot to say, a lot to talk out about, just for myself and for my recovery and treatment. I just hope one day I'll get proper professional help to help me deal with my past because it eats me up inside every single day. Fake a smile. Get on with it.