It’s hard when your sinking and no one there to pull you up. When the only way to not drown is to swim, and hope you make it out.
I finished this project I’ve been working on for the past 7 days, and I gave the couple a happy ending. As per the clients’ request they had a child, and got married and the child’s even named after the grandfather that passed on.
I bitch a lot about being sad and alone, and feeling like shit all the time. Yet I still get through each day and get to the next. I always make it through, I’m sure one day soon I won’t but until then I still make it through.
It’s 04:40 right now, so I guess that’s why I’m at this keyboard. My work for the day is done, I’ve done everything I set out to do, we’ll I just made it. I haven’t been overproductive, just as much as was required for today.
I’m listening to Goeey by Glass Animals and then I’ll probably try and look for the Daughter – Love (Baile Remix). I can only share a limited number of songs, because I try and have music that matches the reading time for each post. I care okay.
If you listen to one thing from this blog, listen to Daughter – Love (Baile Remix), it’s like a complete mood. There’s a reason I’m writing this post and it’s to talk about a specific thing: not realising you’re getting closer to the surface.
For some time now I’ve felt as though I’ve been drowning, constantly submerged unable to breathe, unable to move. I forget how low I’ve been until I remember exactly how bad it’s gotten and how I made it through that, my cookie jar I guess (another post titled cookie jar).
I was checking my blogs’ stats today and came across something. Someone had been reading post 42. I wrote it when I was in this hellish state trying to tell myself that I hadn’t fucked up, that there was a reason, that the pain it caused/causes is something I have to come to terms with.
That was when I wrote you and I, out of delusion.
I was pretty fucked when I wrote it, I won’t lie. I’ve been pretty fucked about that specific topic for a quite a bit, longer than I’d like to admit. Anyway, I decided I’d read it. Check out what whoever searched for it, wanted to get out of it. I read a bit of it, I skimmed through it barely. I just realised how in pain I was when I saw it, it sucks to be in that state.
I wish no one had to be in a state of constant conflict. Not knowing whether any decision you make is the right one, not having anyone to talk to who’ll understand. I remember having to go through so many things alone. What started as a break up, that’s all resulted in a lifestyle change, a complete switch in reason to live (it’s a big one), from family shit to death, from addiction to suicide attempts? It got bad.
I remember waking up every morning from sleepless periods (sometimes days), wanting to have not woken up, but being grateful that I did. Grateful that I survived another trouble. That’s how I’ve made it through the past few years. I have friends that care for me, but none that I confide my constant agony in.
Maybe once every couple weeks, or months I’ll let one of them in, let them peak at what I feel. Some of them ran away, the closest person I had at a time in my life was actually the one that left just as things got real bad. All of that brought about one good thing, something I think not many people have. The ability to be alone regardless of whether you’re sad or happy.
I could be depressed and in pain, yet spend days on my own with no contact. I could be happy and invested and spend the same time alone. It’s okay. I wish there had been someone to explain things to me when I needed it. I wish there had been someone to tell me that you just need to keep going, and it genuinely gets easier.
Does it get worse? yes. Always. But it gets easier for bits, and that’s the moments you have to live for. The moments free from anxiety, free from depression, free from ovethinking. The couple hours a week that are pure. It’s those that make life worth living, whoever sold me the idea of being happy all the time and sad sometimes was a liar.
Though I want to say, even though it feels like I’m drowning most of the time, I feel myself getting closer to the surface. Which is a beautiful thing. I could be deluded, life could get so much worse. It could turn out that I’ve actually been sinking the whole fucking time. I don’t know all that, but until we find out we keep moving forward.
I have a couple people in my life that I try and support through their sadness sometimes. When they need someone I try and be there for them. Whether it’s something as dire as someone’s death or whether it’s something as insignifcant (to me) as not being able to socialize. Everyone feels pain to different degrees. I can’t judge, I can only be present.
I don’t do it cause I’m selfless or some saint, I’m a massive piece of shit. I do it because I know what it’s like to be 4000 miles away when your grandfather dies, not being able to attend a funeral (yet again) not having anyone around you, or anyone that understands your pain. I did have someone, and she did care but I couldn’t just constantly rely on someone that has to deal with their own stuff.
I know the loneliness that comes with all of that. I know the helplessness, the sorrow, the exhaustion; I know it all too well. Which is why I try and be there, to whatever extent I can. No one deserves pain, no one should get through it alone. NOT A SINGLE PERSON DESERVES IT.
I keep myself open with new people, yes it takes me some time to get comfortable, but I still listen. It’s easier for me to participate in someone’s sadness than in there happiness. I’ve experienced such a weird spectrum of shit, and I’ve made it out. Which is why even though I feel sad and alone. I understand that I have to keep going.
I am drowning, but no one can pull me out, no one was there to pull me out.
That’s why I choose to be there for people that need a hand in escaping. So that they can help someone, so the whole god damn world could work.
It’s wishful thinking.
Go listen to Daughter, with your headphones on. Turns the lights down low, and enjoy the vibe.
Until later.
I’m gonna go read this book and play with my semi-curls.
A Sane Undertaking 