Disclaimer: It took a lot of guts for me to post this so please don’t judge.
If you’ve been following my blog, by now, you must be getting sick of the melancholic, dark and “whiny” posts I always make. The truth is I write about how I feel and to be honest I don’t feel great at all. Despite having a decent job and good health, I often find myself drowning in a pool of depression. I’m getting sick of it all! The hopelessness. The sadness. The piercing feeling of rejection. The self hatred. Feeling less of a man. The loneliness. The constant need to be accepted by society. The lack of happiness. The mood swings and most of all, The Depression! So if I had to let it all out in therapy, here is how it would go:
This is my Therapy Session
What is Love?
I’ve forgotten how it feels to be loved. To have someone genuinely care about me. To have someone find interest in me. To have someone worry about me. To have someone chase me all day and not the other way around. I can’t remember the feeling any more. I’m numb to it all. I used to know love on a first name basis but now hate seems to be the only occupant of my heart.
Who shot me?
More often than not, my depression has been caused by people I care about. People I love. People I want to be with.
Its the hurtful things people I love do or say to me that affect me the most. Its the rejection. The backstabbing. Sometimes I hate myself for loving people too much. I always assume that if I show love, I will be shown the same love in return. Sadly, that’s not the case. I guess I have myself to blame for all of this.
Torture in a room full of mirrors.
Reflections! Reflections are supposed to show us who we are. I hate reflections. I despise mirrors because I hate the man in the mirror. Each glance in the mirror is a constant reminder of my flaws. A highlight of my blemishes. This is why I never take/post selfies or set profile pics of myself. I despise looking at myself. Just for a day I want to know what it feels like to be perfect. To be flawless. To be the envy of others. To walk in a room and be the one whose attention everyone is fighting for. For once, I want to love seeing my own reflection.
They say its ok to cry. Not in my world. I rarely cry. Crying makes me feel weak and less of man. After a long while, I finally gave in. I had been holding back tears for so long all it took was some family drama to trigger the way past due tears to burst out in never-ending streams. I’m ashamed to admit it but it happened. The worst part is the only person I could call is the last person I want to ever see me cry.
Haven’t we all had suicidal thoughts at one point?
A few weeks ago I found myself talking to some random people about suicide. I remember saying, “…but haven’t we all had suicidal thoughts at one point in life?” There was an awkward silence as they all gave me awkward stares. I thought having suicidal thoughts was a normal phase everyone goes through in life. Clearly I was wrong. Clearly there’s something wrong with me. The occasional depression, lack of happiness, overwhelming emotions and personal problems have often seeded suicidal thoughts in my mind a few times. I often wonder if death could be the answer after all they do say, “Rest In PEACE“. Peace is what we all want ain’t it? I often wonder if anyone would miss me at all if I die. I often wondered if anyone apart from my family would shed tears if I departed this world. Would your lives be better without me? I know I won’t commit suicide but I’d be lying if I said the thought of it doesn’t linger in my brain every once in a while.
Even Heroes need saving
Growing up, my family taught me the importance of giving and sharing. As a result, I never turn down a friend in need. I’m always there for people. Well, at least I try. However each time I try to call out for help it’s always, “Sorry the number you have requested is not available. Please try again later.”
During my internship , 4 years ago, I was well known for always wearing a jersey during the summer season. People at work always wondered why. Surprisingly, my family and friends never noticed. The reason why I always wore a jersey despite the heat was so I could cover up my arms for I had a little dark secret on my arms and wrists.
When you die, I won’t cry
Despite my newly acquired hate for certain family members, there is no one I hate the most than my estranged father. In fact if he passed on today, I wouldn’t feel a thing. My tear ducts would literally dry up. Now before you start thinking I have daddy issues I’d like to reassure you that I don’t. Its just that each time I introduce myself and say my surname or take a look at my ID I’m reminded of him. I hate the fact that I’m stuck with my dad’s surname. A surname that means nothing to me. A surname that belongs to a man who physically abused my mom then left us. A man that used to live 15 minutes away from us but never bothered to take care of his own kids. A man that never was part of my life.
A stranger called Mom
I love my mother and I know she loves me a lot but I can’t deny that the most awkward text/call conversations I have are with my mom. We have nothing much to talk about. I guess this is mainly to do with the fact that I never grew up with my mom. As a result, I know a friend who probably knows me way better than my own mother. She tries to get close to me but I could never open up to her. Our Whatsapp conversations ALWAYS go something like this:
Mom: Hey. How are you.
Me: Hello Mother! I’m cool. You good?
Mom: We’re okay. Just missing you guys.
Me: lol.. We miss you too.
*pause: starts thinking…..*
Me: How’s the weather in *insert name of city*?
Mom: Its very cold but the weather keeps fluctuating though.
Me: Oh ok. That’s a bummer.
*pause: starts thinking again……*
Mom: Anyway talk to you later. Goodnight!
Me: Cool cool. Goodnight!
A few more days later, we have the exact same boring conversation all over again. Sometimes I try really hard to keep the chat going but we lack a common ground. I can never share my personal stuff with her. I don’t know why but we just don’t have stuff to talk about.
Maturity or Simply losing Interest?
One sign, that reassured me that either my depression is getting worse or I’m simply changing in personality is the sudden loss of interest in things I loved to do the most. A few months ago, I used to watch football religiously, play video games almost on a daily basis, hangout with family and carried my skateboard in the trunk of my car so I could skate whenever I got the chance. I don’t do any of the above any more. I find no interest in anything these days apart from hanging out with the few friends that I have. That’s all I want to do. Hangout with friends. Nothing else.
Whispers from the Past
I have enough issues to deal with in my present time. I can’t carry problems from my past into the future. My Ex trying to reach out to me. Backstabbing friends trying to creep back into my life. Thoughts of things I did in the past that still haunt me. Regrets of words I shouldn’t have said. Everything in the past seems to find a way to ruin my future.
Whose riding with me?
I only realized late last year that I don’t have any friends at all. The people in my contacts book I thought were my friends are only people who at one point wanted something from me or were using me because I possessed certain skills or resources they needed. So whose really riding with me? At this point, I can only think of 2 real friends.
Forgive me Father
I know a lot of people wish they had what I had. I Know God has worked in my favour and bailed me out countless times. However, I feel like I have this insatiable thirst for everything that makes me disregard all my blessings and make me feel like a failure for not having more. In addition, I feel my self-hatred growing. I feel my hatred for life starting to emerge. I feel hate for certain people starting to consume my heart, soul and mind. I feel like I’m losing it. The more troubled my soul gets, the less I seem to pray. I don’t understand why I feel this way. Please forgive me Lord.
Just pump blood you jerk!
Lastly, can you please tell my heart to not get involved. Catching feelings hasn’t worked in my favour at all.
Maybe I’m being petty. Maybe I’m overreacting. But I cant deny that these are my thoughts. These are my emotions. And this is how I feel. I have a feeling I might regret posting this but its too late to turn back now.
This is Me.