I never manage to stick to writing blogs, and I haven’t even touched my handwritten diary for months. Not writing in my diary has usually meant I am doing better, but these days it also seems to be a way to distance myself from my feelings and problems, as if not putting them on paper means they will stop existing. That doesn’t really make sense, because in the past writing has been a way to deal with my anxiety, and putting things down on paper has helped me feel more in control of my feelings. I haven’t written much recently, maybe partly because of the fact that I have been more busy in life with my studies and working, but I think also because in some ways it makes me feel worse seeing the negative feelings and experiences described in words.
I don’t feel strong today, but looking back at the year that has passed, hell I have been strong. I have fought back my anxieties, fears and have gone after my dreams. I moved abroad, left everyone behind again, have lived with strangers, I ended my long-term relationship, which I have only now come to realize was a very toxic one; started the last year of my twenties alone, having to accept the fact that my vision of having a family by the time I’m 30 wasn’t going happen, felt hopeful and excited for the future but ended up facing rejection and more than once left feeling confused, disappointed and scared of meeting anyone again. I joined a new community not knowing if I really would be accepted, started learning a new language, I got two jobs and did not break down crying when I was on the verge of a panic attack and my brain just wasn’t co-operating with me. Somehow I still managed to return all my university work on time and gained a first from the first year of my master’s degree.
At times I wonder how I got through everything, without breaking apart. At the same time, there is always some little inner voice reminding me of the things that failed, of the times I missed lectures or work, of the fact that I failed to be social and make friends, and of the amount of time I spent in bed not being capable of anything. That voice is always there, and no matter what people say to me, that voice will be there to remind me that maybe those people just aren’t telling the truth, just like I am trying to tell myself I have been good enough, and that I have been strong.
Today I am not feeling well. I left home in the morning to go to work, and I was fighting an internal battle during my walk towards the campus. The walk seemed to take really long, and I changed my mind several times. I kept telling myself ‘You can do it’, but I felt sick to my stomach and I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I failed to go to work, I just couldn’t do it. I have been fighting the whole day to keep myself together. I hid myself in a study room of the library. I am trying to tell myself to be strong, but right now I just can’t do it.