Smog.

Poison.

It can be found in many ways; man made, alive, in plants and animals, but humans aren’t considered to be on the list, a huge mistake in my opinion.

A friend of mine from my home island has been visiting and although his heart is warm and kind, he has a dark fog that trails behind him, seemingly seeping through him, reaching out to me, burning at the touch. He hugs me and sadness fills me. The beautiful island that we were raised on is killing him, like a dying species, if it does not fight and flee, good dies there, evil grows freely, like poison ivy, taking over, crawling, creeping into your mind and starving your personality, your kindness and darkening your soul, like a blue sky covered in heavy grey clouds.

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We talk, about the world, the past, the present, our memories, fears, plans, we have always had a beautiful connection, like fingertips touching and sparking in a movie, kindred souls, broken by life and rebuild by bravery and pure will.

Years pass by us but each visit is the same, until now.

We talk, slowly I hear myself… Who is this speaking?
This sarcasm, this disdain dripping from my words… Where has the beauty gone from my view?
I was being sucked back, the island pulling me into its dark embrace, feeding me pain from my past as if it were spoonfuls of sugar that turned to vinegar when touching my tongue.

We went to the cinema with a friend of mine and I noticed his glance, this wasn’t me. It snapped me back, the spoon dropping to the ground with a loud clunk.

I’m not there anymore, none of it matters anymore.
Why relive it? Why wake the beast so it can scratch me again?
Why re-open old scars?

I ripped up the note in my hand that I wrote in the hope of giving a paper cut to its receiver. I didn’t need that, how was it going to help me? The flitting moment of satisfaction that it would bring would evaporate and the beast would growl, demanding to be fed again and again….
Revenge is addictive and turns us into an ugly creature, no matter how beautiful we may look in a mirror.
I always live by two sayings I was told as a child:
Do not crouch down to the level of those that seek to hurt you.
& treat others the way you would like to be treated.
(Applied even when they are complete dicks, leaving loopholes to tease them and also kill them with kindness that will in turn show them a lesson.)

As I dropped the paper in the bin, its pieces fluttering and scattering,  weight lifted, I smiled, feeling like myself just a little bit more, a wonderful sensation, like cream to a burn, my body pulsed, forcing out the dark. I looked down, nearly convinced I was seeing the smog leave my pores, the darkness evaporating into the air…

As the night went on, we spoke of insecurities, questions left unanswered and for the first time in my life I realised, I didn’t need the answer to everything.
This was a huge revelation for someone that was capable of breaking herself into pieces just for the satisfaction of knowing something that she knew would kill a piece of her… The need to know stronger than the need to protect herself. I used to say that those who didn’t seek answers were just cowards that lived in the dark, I know realise that you aren’t ignorant for not seeking  every answer, you are sometimes smarter.
A soft breeze passed through me, filling me with peace and I knew, these questions were best left alone, like a snake in a box, best left undisturbed, for no good would come from opening it as you wouldn’t be able to turn the snake into a rabbit, no matter how much you wanted to, and that snake would bite. Maybe it wouldn’t, but, why risk that when you don’t need to? Why hurt yourself when there are already so many others that will do that to you..?

Don’t add to the pain the world inflicts, put armour on for cthulhus sake! Don’t stab yourself. WE ARE NOT OUR OWN ENEMIES and it’s so damn hard to see that, to say that when the world makes it their mission to hate ourselves, to have a neverending need to be better, prettier, stronger, more, more more…The pressure cutting into us and we learn to except the pain, making it natural to self inflict.

No.

Just no.

We are our own saviours, our own heroes, our bodies, our minds, they are our best weapons, our best defense, our best friend. Our biggest acheivement. Love yourself, in small ways as the first step, my first step was throwing the spoon down instead of swallowing self made poison. A template handed out to everyone by society, personalised by every type of pain inflicted by others.

I am choosing myself, over everything. Drop the bottle, let it shatter.

Look at the past, don’t be afraid, it made you who you are.

I will remember the beautiful, I will tell those stories, the bad can stay there, slowly deteriorating like cliffs with the soft but constant caress of the waves.

I shall make waves, made of tears of pain and laughter, a beautiful mixture that will slowly wash away the hate, close scars, free me.

The most important part is that I’ve started, I took that step, even if I fall backwards, my print is there, showing me it’s possible. I can be happy.

I am Blue, I am free of the smog and I’m on my way.

 

(Perfectly fitting photo by: https://www.redbubble.com/people/melissa-smith)

 

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Cactus & Balloon.

Have you ever felt ripped into two?

Literally, your body burning as if the skin were being torn.
I am both cactus and balloon.
I am both scared and brave.
I am both suicidal and full of life.
I am strong but weak.
Dizzy but standing strong.

I am terrified of loving but brave enough to run into a dog fight to save my dog from any harm, god forbid a single hair on his body is hurt and my fury shall be unleashed.
I want to live but that voice in my head whispering that death is my only option is a lot louder than that silence where laughter once lived.
I am strong enough to fight that voice but the tablets that help me are grinding me down, daily breaking my edges and crumbling me with every pain, every side effect weighing me down.
I stand but I’m not sure how, my world is spinning, like a child on a merry go round, there is no way to stop it, the faces blurring, my stomach clenching, holding on to the little food I give to my body…

I am both cactus and balloon…
I crave his arms but push them away, I crave to be their loved one, part of a family yet these thorns keep them away… Keep me away.
I try to cut them but I’m too weak to finish the job, they are too strong… I cut enough to be hugged but then I turn my back for a second and I’ve cut them, I feel the blood dripping from my barbs…
I am a cactus and happiness is a balloon, I am surrounded by balloons, doomed forever to watch from a distance and not touch for fear of exploding them.

Fuck This, fuck that, fuck everything.

To all the people who agree with this post:
20882895_1960612827557975_4488751665222036085_nI have been fighting suicide for as long as I can remember and at one point these posts worked, the guilt worked. Now it just plain pisses me the fuck off.

What about the people who can’t afford help? Government help at least here in Spain is awful, their professionals push you further over the edge after months or years of waiting for help, that is absolutely crushing. Private professionals cost a lot of money most of us can’t afford, sometimes even if you can afford them, it just doesn’t work for you, everyone is different. Now what about the ones who’s family don’t give a shit and don’t make time for them even when they cry out for help, what about the people who’s friends aren’t there on those dark nights because they are busy or have their own shit? Or people that have nobody? And the ones that can’t work because their illness has got that bad so they are just stuck there hanging with no money? Are you going to pay their bills? Are you going to be there for them every single god damn time they need help? Because I haven’t found anyone strong enough yet to deal with what I live with. I live on meds that give me side affects that you would never wish to have to be able to lead a “half normal life” which doesn’t even fucking reach that level and my physical pain is stuff out of nightmares. Living every day in physical and mental pain on your own dealing with this on top of normal daily stress as people don’t take you seriously and still expect everything from you and you say we are selfish for wanting out?
Fuck that, you are the selfish ones for wanting us to stay, to endure this in hope that woweeee we can have one good day out of a month, one week maybe sometimes is an okay one, just so you can feel good and say “I saved them from suicide”, no, you forced them to live a life that you would never want for yourself and have no idea how shit that feels. We are here not to hurt you but in the process we get burned constantly for being a burden and being “hard work” or “complicated”, but if we leave we are cowards, we are selfish, we are cruel.

Now for the people that are now obviously going to say people die everyday from illnesses and want to live, I’m so sorry, we want to live too but unlike a broken leg, unlike a head injury, a car accident because you drunk drove, unlike a stab wound when you decided to pick a fight, we don’t get helped in the ER, we get told to go away, we get forgotten, we get made fun of and made into memes and turned into someone labeled as lazy and told to “snap out of it”. Snap out of that broken leg dude, it’s just a bone, come on, you can crawl… You’d never say that. Ever. Yet we get told that every single freaking day.

Fuck that, I’m so sorry about people that get taken before their time but also people should have the right to decide when they want to die without judgement. You can put an animal down in dignity because it’s “humane” but humans get locked away and drugged and abused de trying to do what they have decided is best, not just for themselves but for the people around them.
Fuck that, people that commit suicide are not selfish, we can’t expect you guys to be here for us, to spend your whole lives taking care of us and we are freeing you of that as WE NEED THAT and nobody can give it to us. It’s not fair on us and it’s not fair on you.

So if your friend is seriously suicidal, not just a phase, but has been through the doctors appointments, has tried their freaking hardest and still wants to do it, respect them and enjoy every moment by their side.

You don’t feel their pain, you can’t hear those voices, don’t judge.

October 2016

It was beautiful while it lasted.

When it’s been some of the hardest months of your life and you’ve been a complete dick to the person you love and you wake up and he’s still there.

I woke up this morning to hear him singing to the puppy about having breakfast, even though he’d only slept 5h, I fell back to sleep smiling to be woken up with flowers and that huge smile of his, just because he likes to see me happy.

I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to have him in my life, holding my reluctant hand through anxiety attacks and depression, holding me to sleep and not walking away when I lose control.

I’ve lost so many people in my life because of anxiety and depression, because I was ashamed to admit I had a problem, because I was afraid of being judged, of being called insane when hiding it was making me exactly that.
I really wish people understood what depression means. It’s not a bad day, it’s not that something happened, its not a way to call attention to yourself, it’s definitely not a joke, it’s a dark cloud that envelops you, tells you to sleep and not to talk to anyone. It’s losing control of your feelings and yourself. It makes outside seem like your enemy and your body ache as if you’ve been beaten up, you forget what hope is, it seems never ending. It makes you run away from open arms when all you want is a hug. Your nightmares don’t stop when you open your eyes. There are good days and bad days, you can smile right through it whilst you crumble inside, everyone lives it differently and not everyone survives it, because you know deep down that even when this cloud has passed, another will come, you don’t know when but you know it will. It’s something that makes me rethink the idea of having children as I don’t want them to have to live through my attacks because I know there will be days, weeks, where I won’t be able to face them, their needs, their little faces will become my enemies.

Please don’t take depression lightly those who don’t suffer it an those that do, please seek help and survive. It’s worth it, try to remember that even when it screams at you that it’s a lie. It’s not, there will always be someone that cares, be brave, be strong, reach out. Find us, we are here. The survivors.

I don’t think I’ve ever asked for anyone to share a post but please please PLEASE, if you’ve read this and have felt this way or know someone that has, share it, you really don’t know, who could need it the most might be the person you least expect and believe me, knowing you’re not alone can save your life.

Amazing as it sounds, it’s true, I promise.