Monthly Archives: October 2013
I came in like a wrecking ball,
I never hit so hard in love,
All I wanted was to break your walls,
All you ever did was break me,
Yea, you, you wrecked me.
— Miley Cyrus, Wrecking Ball
A lot of people give Miley Cyrus hell about her outrageous behavior, I happen to be one of those. But the one thing you can’t deny, she made, at least, one good song. Wrecking ball, in my opinion is about a girl who was hopelessly in love with a boy who really couldn’t care less.
He had his walls up, and all she wanted was to be inside of the walls, to know what was going on in that head of his. But, by trying to break the walls, she wrecked herself.
I can relate to this song, a lot more than I would have hoped.
I never meant to start a war
I just wanted you to let me in
And instead of using force,
I guess I should’ve let you win.
I never meant to start a war,
I just wanted you to let me in.
I guess I should’ve let you win…
Don’t you ever say, I just walked away,
I will always want you.
–Miley Cyrus, Wrecking Ball
I never meant to start a war, all I wanted was to be inside of your world, to know what was on your mind. Now I’m told that I was trying to change you? No.
Anyhow, like/love Miley or not, I like this song.
I’ve been thinking about all the things that have led me here. All the mistakes I’ve made, all the failures I’ve encountered. Its been a long journey and I’m only 22.
I hate myself,
more than I ever let on.
I’m burned out at 22.
I lived too fast and I loved too much and I’ll die too young,
but I chose this cup that I drank from.
Knew what I was getting into.
I hate that I’ve made so many mistakes, then again, hindsight is always 20/20. If I knew then what I know now, how different would my life be?
If I knew that I would be regretting quitting school just to deal with life, would I have quit, or stuck with it? Would I have really thought that getting married would solve some of my problems in my relationship?
I look at where I am and where I could be, all I can see is failure after failure. I hate it. I think about all the chances I had and wasted!
Looking back at my failed relationship, I’ve wasted 5 years of my life on someone that didn’t/doesn’t care for me. 5 years!
It hurts, a lot. And he acts as if the sun is always shining. He’s not even touched by this sadness and emptiness I feel when I think about him… But he would have had to care about me in the first place.
I haven’t really cried much.
I have to keep looking forward. There is a reason for this….
Not a failure, just a lesson.
Are we really who we are? Or are our disorders making us into someone else?
DO we really know ourselves, or do we simply know our disorder?
Healthy Place had an article on this earlier today. Find their article here: Depression: What The Mentally Ill Know
I believe that we know who we are, maybe the real us, the real me, is tucked deep inside. We shield ourselves from so much stigma and the pain of our illnesses.
I know that I am more than my depression, PTSD, anxiety, and bipolar. I know that is a fact. But sometimes, that is all I see. I don’t see that I am a hard worker, or a lover, or a daughter. I see that I am bipolar. I see that I am depressed.
In Healthy Place’s article, they say that the mentally ill are more than just ill. They become educators to family and friends, they become advocates for themselves.
I want to believe that I’m becoming an educator. That, by blogging my experiences, people will realize that I, and others like me, are more than just our illnesses. Just because I’m bipolar, doesn’t mean that I am crazy. Or that I will switch emotions at the drop of a hat. Just because I’m bipolar doesn’t mean that I can’t have real or meaningful relationships.
Just because I’m a self harmer, doesn’t mean that I am psychotic. It doesn’t mean that I’m homicidal or suicidal. It means that I cope in different ways than you do. It doesn’t mean that it makes sense to you. And that’s ok.
I want to be an educator. I want to be an advocate.
But, you have to think, too, that those will illnesses, we are advocates for ourselves. We have to show people, like our doctors, how we are doing or how poorly our experiences with medications are. We learn to talk to doctors in terms that we all understand.
We become researchers. We research treatment options, coping skills, warning signs, treatment centers, and prescription help.
We become detectives. Finding out what our personal triggers are, how to minimize exposure, and ways to cope in the event that we are triggered. We find that there are others out there like us, we find communities that will help us in the event that we become triggered.
We learn what triggers are, what coping skills are, what medications and side effects are. We are more than our disorders.
We are more than a number.
We are more than a stigma.
We are more.
And we will be more than a lost identity.
I don’t understnad people who can just switch emotions on and off. I’m not talking about us bipolar people, who switch from depressed to happy or mad. I mean those around us, who we think are there to keep us safe.
I think that it is cruel of those people to take advantage of situations or people who have illnesses. Those who would rather live a lie than face the truth and be adult about things.
I guess, for example, my relationship with my ex-hubby. I don’t understand how he can just simply fall out of love with me, and not even care where that leaves me.
I guess I saw it coming. I know that I asked my aunt like what would happen to me if I wasn’t married. What would I become? I’ve spent 5 years with this individual, granted, it’s not been a long relationship, but it’s the longest I’ve ever had. 5 years, is a long time. I don’t even know who I am by myself.
In relationships, you become more and more like the person you’re with. And if someone tells you that’s not true, they don’t understand or they are too blind to see it. I believe that there are subtle changes that happen over time. It includes the type of music you listen to, the way you wear your hair, the shows you watch, how you speak or form sentences.
I know that when I was with Him, I started listening to the Beatles. A band that I found highly annoying and repulsive, but I started to listen, and found that there were more songs by them that wasn’t annoying. I became more and more like Him.
With hubby, I’ve seen that I listen to a broader spectrum of artists, watch different TV shows – shows that I would never have watched before. I changed, because I became like him. I spent all my time with him, wondering about him, thinking about him. And now, he’s just gone.
I’ve lost my identity. I thought that my identity had been lost to my depression, my anxiety, my PTSD, my bipolar… I never thought that I would be lost in him. And, maybe, I saw some warnings. Like losing my friends, I saw them disappearing, and I was pushing them away. And maybe I knew.
I’m not who I was before. I’m lost because I don’t know who I really am. I don’t have me anymore. And I don’t know where to find me.
Think about it:
I quit school for him. I was in Tarleton, working on my Psychology degree. Granted, I was getting bored… But, maybe that’s because I had wrapped myself in him. I got lost. Anyhow, when we got married, we needed income, and he wasn’t working, so I found a job. It wasn’t enough. We moved, a couple of times before settling in Hico.
I gave up my dreams. I gave up my goals. For him.
All I have now, music, and, thankfully, my family and close friends. But I am utterly alone. I feel alone. I feel lost.
I look at him now, on Facebook…I thought that if I deleted him it wouldn’t tempt me, but I’m attracted to him like a moth to the flame. I look, and I realize that he isn’t hurting. He’s toying with me. And I feel like he’s winning.
It’s painful. I don’t understand what possesses someone to switch on and off like that.
Maybe it’s just me.
But I think that it’s cruel.