Let's Talk.

 I've been debating on doing this/writing this/opening up about this. I know that not a lot of people read this blog (even my good friends don't really read this blog), but those who do, thank you. It may be a huge coincidence, but lately I've been seeing all of these mental health/mental illness Instagram posts about this very same topic. I've been wanting to spread more awareness about this, because I'm constantly dealing with it. But what stops me is that it's like a taboo in this society. I'm going to warn you that it's triggering and if you are easily triggered, it's okay to stop here. It's a sensitive topic, and it's a topic that makes everyone feel uncomfortable. It still makes me feel uncomfortable to even bring it up. So, if you decide to stop reading here, I understand. But if you're staying to read about my story, thank you.

Okay, here we go... I think I've briefly touched on this when I first opened up about my mental struggles and before I built the courage to get professional help. Ever since I was younger, and I'm talking about when I was in elementary school, I've always expressed how much I wanted to end my life. As a kid, I didn't know why. I didn't know that these thoughts were considered suicidal. I didn't really know about suicide. I didn't know that I showed any signs of any mental illness. I constantly would say that I hated my life. I would harm myself. I used to bang my head on tables, scratch myself, and hit myself with hard objects. I would harm myself just to feel something and it would be out of frustration. A lot of people just thought I was "too sensitive" or that I'm "dramatic." I mean, we were all too young to understand any of it or there wasn't a lot of awareness around it. I wasn't even aware myself. As I was getting older, I became so good at hiding my emotions. I wouldn't cry as much because people have told me that I cry way too much and for little things. I always showed that I was happy, but would have the occasional breakdown. Despite the fact that I live a good life, have a lot of friends and that my parents would do everything to support me, I would have these thoughts come and go. I still have these thoughts come and go. I constantly would deal with mental abuse as a child and still now at home because mental health does not really exist in a Vietnamese household. I felt the pressure of being perfect all the time. Hence why, I'm a perfectionist. And if you didn't know, perfectionism and anxiety go hand in hand. My anxiety would tell me things like "you're never good enough," "you're annoying," "no one likes you," which would lead me to become depressed. Because I couldn't have one disorder without the other, right? I often will let it all settle and then I will spiral. It was all the mental abuse and trauma plus the anxiety plus the depression coming from that anxiety that would make me spiral from time to time. I can't tell you the amount of times where people dismissed the fact that I wasn't just saying that I wanted to disappear for attention. I literally hated my life, because I couldn't be perfect for my dad, and I always felt ignored at home and in school. I thought no one cared. I thought that if my life were to end, no one would actually care about me. I even thought of scenarios of what my funeral would be like. I would wonder that if I did die, will there be anyone at my funeral? It does sound disturbing for a child or pre-teen to think about, but that has crossed my mind, not once, but several times. There was a time where I would forget about it, because I had so many distractions. I think when I began college, that was when my anxiety and depression worsened. Right when I hit my lowest during my senior year, that was when the suicidal thoughts came back. Most of the time, I just felt alone. And it was the way some people treated me, like I was invisible. There were people who were just shitty and who made me feel out of place. Like, I just didn't belong anywhere, because well, cliques still exist in college and in adult life, and we will always have people who are "followers" rather than their own person. When I hit rock bottom, a friend (who was very understanding) actually encouraged me to get professional help, and she even went with me. I have always been timid to go to a therapy alone, and it was nice that someone was right by my side. I was so scared to actually express anything. The first thing I did when I sat down to talk to a psychologist was cry. I literally sat down and burst into tears when I had to open my mouth to speak.. and then I officially got diagnosed with anxiety and depression. Everything I was feeling and reacting to made so much sense. I was able to steer away from those thoughts for a little while because I was able to see things a little clearer knowing that everything I was feeling was valid. I also was able to realize who my real friends were when I did hit rock bottom. Unfortunately, there was a time where I didn't notice that I built friendships with crappy people and I started to feel unhappy again... even being medicated with Prozac. I began faking a smile again. I began trusting these crappy people, where I was vulnerable enough to open up about my struggles. When I say that they are crappy people, I really mean that they are CRAPPY people. They are very dismissive when it comes to mental illnesses. When I became severally depressed due to heartbreak, my old toxic job and what was happening at home, I was treated differently by them. They would ignore me during the times when I needed someone to be there for me, aka a friend. They made excuses and gave me the silent treatment. Just because everything that they would say to me, made things worse than it should've been and I reacted to their disrespect. I was able to speak up and defend myself, but they took it as if I got mad easily, or that I'm way too sensitive. They consistently showed how much they weren't there for me, and even if they claim they did, they weren't. They weren't good friends, in fact, they weren't my friends at all. One night, I felt like I shouldn't be around anymore, because I was made to think that I was an issue. When I finally expressed how I was feeling towards them and what I was observing and experiencing, the situation got twisted where they played the victim. It was just an attack after another with words, because everything was one sided and it was two girls against me. They say they understand, but yet, they never wanted to be there for me. They probably never will understand. I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted to go away permanently.  That night, I just stared at a bottle of prescription pills, contemplating. In fact, they were beta blockers, which slows down your heart rate and if you were to overdose, it causes difficulty of breathing. I already knew that. I couldn't take it anymore and I told them that maybe it would be best that I just go away so they wouldn't feel stressed about me and my emotions anymore and that I was ready with the pills on my bedside table. I thought that this was the only solution since I'm the shitty friend, and that's what I was made to believe.  I was made to believe that I'm at fault for everything. I thought that everyone else probably feels the same way towards me. I was constantly apologizing for my feelings because they claimed that my depression is exhausting to deal with and that I'm never concerned about their feelings. They really don't know what mental exhaustion feels like and what anxiety and depression does to a person's mind. One of their responses was: "You did not just go there... that's low, Sandy. So low." With that response, I really thought maybe this is it since they don't care anyway. They didn't care enough to sense that I was in deep pain. I was going back and forth with grabbing that bottle of pills. Most times when I have these thoughts, I try to distract myself or give myself a good reason to stay. But that night, I thought that the whole world was against me and that I was living to suffer. I didn't want to suffer from my thoughts and feelings anymore. If it weren't for my best friend that night, I might have taken that risk. As soon as I reached out about wanting to swallow those pills, she called me. She helped steer me away from the idea after I told her what was going through my mind and what was happening. Somedays, I do think about what would've happened if I didn't reach out. Would I still be here today? For the longest time after that night, I kept having those thoughts frequently because with the mental abuse and trauma I was already living with, I still kept the wrong people in my life. Don't worry, I was still seeing my psychiatrist at the time and I briefly went to a [bad] therapist. It sucks so much because there are so many people in my life who I love and care about, and the last thing I want to do is hurt them by just disappearing purposely. The thing is that I know myself enough to know when to seek professional help, and during those times, I just wanted what I thought was my support system to be there. I'm old and smart enough to understand that not everyone is a mental health professional and that they could be going through something as well, but it would be nice for them to be there as much as they can, like how I am there for them. I may not have a lot to say, but I listen and I observe. I never asked for them to be my therapist. My mind likes to distort things and it's hard for me to gather my thoughts together. Most of the time when I am in the mix of my emotions and negative thoughts, all I really need and want is someone to be by my side, listening, and none of the "you constantly come for advice, and you never take it" kind of bullshit. If I wanted advice, I would ask for it and to be honest, I don't ask for it when I am speaking about what's going on in my head. People can make suggestions and I'm okay with that, but when someone gives unsolicited advice, it makes things worse because their ego gets in the way and I'm being ignored. No one likes being ignored, and that was it. My emotions were being ignored. As I sit here, typing and fixing this up, I can't tell you that I haven't thought about it in a while. I can tell you that I've thought about it recently. I've found ways to cope with it, and no matter how much therapy I go to and self awareness I gain, those thoughts linger. This is why I try my best to spread mental health awareness as much as I can. Because this illness haunts. And quite frankly, I'm getting tired of hearing "go to therapy, and help yourself," like I haven't actually thought of and done that. It makes me feel frustrated because I would try everything possible to help myself and when I hear those words, it's like there's no hope. Except for my recent sessions... those were caused by other crappy people who contributed to me questioning my worth in life, in which I had to work on my self-esteem and anxiety a little more. But anyway, I'm reminded by certain people that I'm stronger than I think I am. Since I don't want to commit to another tattoo, I now wear a necklace to remind me that my story is not over. And this is a battle that I'm going to keep fighting. For those who stuck through this large blog post, thank you for being here. You just showed me that you care.

Moving Forward.

I'm not really sure if people read my blog posts, but here's another. I like to think that this is like a live journal minus all the private, personal things. We can all agree that 2020 has been a shitty year to live through, but not all of 2020 sucked. It was full of lessons and I can say I've survived, mentally and emotionally. And I'm here to talk about them.

Even before the US reported its first Covid-19 case, the year definitely started off crappy. If you read my blog post from the beginning of this year, I've gotten my heartbroken, which didn't make sense to me because it was short-lived. I found myself very depressed and I didn't understand why the guy I dated did what he did. I ended up just losing myself and being so hung up on someone who completely played me (who by the way liked me first). In my time of needing someone by my side, I was let down by people who I thought were supposed to be there for me. Turns out, all they did was disappoint me. This year showed me their true colors. Everyone heals differently and everyone heals in different paces. These people, unfortunately, didn't understand that. Yes, they did cared at one point but they added onto my mental and emotional struggles. They were giving me unsolicited advice and were somewhat judgmental with everything I did. They were slightly manipulative in how they wanted me to feel by bring up flaws and trauma. The only thing humans have control of is their own emotions and thoughts. Humans cannot control another being's feelings unless they were to use manipulation. As you may know, I am very open about my mental disorders but trying to explain that my mental disorders make it difficult to get through some situations was getting repetitive and tiring. It was hard to get through their thick skulls. Anxiety disorder shouldn't be looked at as only being stressed and thought to be as an ordinary common thing. Being told "everyone has anxiety" is a stigma that should be broken. Yes, everyone gets anxiety, but not everyone has anxiety disorder. Depression, anxiety's partner in crime, shouldn't be looked at as just being sad. My depression is like being at war with myself and feeling hopeless and like I have no purpose in life. I was told by one of these people that I will never be happy, and that was one of the most ignorant things a person can say to someone struggling everyday in their life trying to fulfill that emptiness in their soul. I've also been told this year "go to talk to a therapist" in the most condescending way, which made me feel angry and hurt because I started  to believe that there was something wrong with me and no one wanted to listen, but that was what my anxiety told me. Nothing is wrong with me at all. I've realized that these people who I used to trust gave up on me. I needed someone to just talk to and validate how I'm feeling. Communication is always key, but communication was the issue. We often disguise out thoughts as our feelings, which is a common flaw in everyone. An example would be that someone can say that the feel like they can't reach out to you or talk to you because they feel like they will add onto your issues. Are those really feelings or just thoughts? If you are thinking that they are thoughts, you are correct. That is not your emotions telling you that, but rather it is your thoughts. With these broken/toxic friendships, I began to feel hopeless that I did seek professional help. Now, these people may think I got professional help because they "suggested" me to go, but little do they know, they were the issue. It was their unkind words and lack of communication skills that drove me mad up to the point where I did hit rock bottom. Losing these friendships was definitely hurtful because I don't ever lose friends. I can say that it was a blessing though. By losing them, I was able to properly heal, find my confidence, and be able to feel happy with myself. I haven't felt this happy with myself in years. What is actually sad is that these people won't see this. But in the end, I'm only here to prove to myself that I'm stronger than what my intrusive thoughts tell me. I made a lot of personal accomplishments this year without them and I can continue making accomplishments.

I'm Ready.

So let's reflect back to 2016 when I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I went to counseling offered at my college and it helped, but it wasn't enough for me. I felt like I was having a hard time coping with things and as much as I opened up to a professional, it felt like I couldn't be helped. I felt that I needed something more, and that was taking medication. And as a lot of people may know, I'm a huge supporter of mental health awareness just because not a lot of people understand it. Not a lot of people know that I take medication as a method to help me. It's definitely something I try to avoid talking about because of the stigma that something is actually really wrong with you if you take prescription medication. Growing up in a household where mental health illnesses are fictional concepts, it was hard to get my parents to accept me needing the medication. I'm constantly told "everyone goes through it and you'll get by it," but I wasn't going through the same things as people who produce enough serotonin in their brains. I felt that I didn't belong, that I was alone every damn day and I felt like no one understood that. Every problem that I encounter would run through my head for what feels like forever, and it was exhausting. I would have sleeping problems because of it. I would lash out at my parents for small things. I wouldn't eat properly. I couldn't remember things as quickly as I used to. I was a mess inside my head. 

When I started to take medication and felt it working, it was such a great feeling. I was finally feeling normal. And once when I thought I was in a good place, I thought I could get off the medication. I thought wrong. My psychiatrist lowered my dosage, but I relapsed and I had to go back to the higher dosage. For a while, as in the 4 years I've been taking it, I just kept the same dosage prescribed to me. Then one day, towards the end of last year, I felt that I was really in a good spot to lower the dosage and be off soon because I was really doing well mentally during good and bad days. However, that didn't go as planned. I was able to get a lower dosage, but wasn't ready to be off of it. Once the new year came, everything went downhill for me. I got my heart broken and was depressed for the longest time. Then I was fighting an uphill battle between people who weren't supporting me. I've hit rock bottom at that point, but I was able to find things to distract me from all of it. I even went back to talking to a counselor. I became strong enough to move on. I've let go of the things that were hurting me and I am finding techniques that work for me. I also have people in my life who are truly there for me, and I'm thankful every single day for them. Before my last session with my psychiatrist, I knew that I was ready to get off the medication. I am now taking back control of my own life. In my recent session, I was given the okay to finally stop the medication, but slowly of course. I'm ready to continue this journey for a better me. So to the people who have destroyed me, mentally and emotionally: screw you. You are done.

To You

It has been almost two years since I've last wrote here, but something brought me back. Feeling used is not a pleasant thing, especially when you start to fall for someone. And that's what happened to me. This is the closure I will never get. This is my letter to you.

I was led on to think I was that special person, the only one, the right one. I put my energy to making things work after you told me that it will. Most guys will contribute to my trust issues. I was made to believe that you were different. You are not. You are, in fact, worse. I know what we had didn't go as far, but you made me believe that it would. Since the first night I met you, I had my guard up. I didn't want to become attached, and that is why I did not open up to you. I needed to know that I can trust you. We were still new and I didn't want to scare you away if I were to open up about everything. I didn't want you to leave. I enjoyed our moments. I loved our intimate moments. I just don't understand what went wrong. I just don't know how you moved on so quickly. I clearly can't. My heart kept sinking every time you posted something with the person you left me for. I wondered why you kept me around though. Why didn't you let me go? Why did you let me constantly reach out to you? Why couldn't you communicate with me? You obviously made your choice. I just want to know what made you leave. We were supposed to go on another date, do you remember that? That's where it all began, when you began avoiding me. I woke up that morning feeling extremely happy. I put on makeup, a nice outfit, and made sure I got out of work early. All that time was wasted. You were the first guy I ever deeply made eye contact with. You didn't get a chance to know that eye contact is something that makes me uncomfortable, but you made me feel comfortable. You made realty go away. I just want you to know that I'm not in love with you, but I loved what we shared. A part of me is thankful that what we had went as far as it could, because I would've fallen in love and you would still hurt me along the way. I can tell you that I do feel damaged, way more damaged than the other times a guy hurts me. Did you know that you were going to hurt me? Did you actually care for me? Obviously not enough, right? You would constantly try to pick my brain, wanting to know what I'm thinking about. Was that all an act to show that you cared? I'm still confused. I'm confused on how you made all these future plans with me. I'm confused on how you would ask me to stay the night. What was all of that? I wish you would tell me. I just wish I can get an answer. All I know is that, you are not right for me. You are an example of what I don't need and what I don't want. I need to let you go. I will let you go.

Forgotten.

Sometimes, I feel forgotten. Sometimes, I feel like my existence is not acknowledged. I sometimes feel invisible. I feel lonely. I feel empty. Just picture a human heart made up of a bunch of puzzle pieces, but there's a missing piece somewhere. That is how I physically feel, like my heart is missing something that makes me feel this way. I try my best to find happiness. I try my best to be happy. Yeah, of course it's the depression. What else would it be? I just don't understand why it makes me feel like I'm all alone, even when I'm surrounded by so many people. I sometimes feel like some important people in my life just don't want anything to do with me anymore. They're pushing me away. Finding excuses to get rid of me. It angers me, but it also saddens me. It makes me view life as a disappointment. I am always forced to face the negatives and be blinded enough to not face the positives. I do not feel like I should be around if I feel forgotten, but I have a path in front of me that I need to follow. I constantly feel miserable. I constantly feel unhappy. I just want my happy ending. Everything I do leads to a temporary happiness, and it sucks.

Journey to Finding Happiness.

Those who know me well, and those who actually follow what I post on this blog know that I have general anxiety and persistent depression. For a while, I've been through very high ups and very high downs. Mostly very high downs. It's something I wish I can fully control, but it's a work in progress. I have never actually publicly mentioned this, but about a year ago, I chose the option to be on medication since I wasn't finding anything helping me. My anxiety is an ongoing thing, while my depression comes and goes. I've done everything I can to make me feel good about myself and life in general, but nothing helped. My anxiety gotten worse where I would have panic attacks, and my depression causing me to constantly be tearful and unmotivated. Then I sought help elsewhere from counseling. I went to see a psychiatrist for treatment. I was prescribed an antidepressant and it definitely helped. Of course it only helps during a certain amount of hours during the day. Even when I was on the antidepressant, the anxiety and depression lingered. Through treatment, I was finding myself learning techniques lessening the anxiety, but not much the depression because I wasn't depressed all the time. I was gaining back my appetite after being on the antidepressant for a while. I used to eat very little without the antidepressant due to my high anxiety levels. I found myself eating more due to the medication, but also feeling empty/depressed from time to time. So, the medication had caused me to gain weight making me feel worse about myself.
At one point, I thought that I could be feeling empty because I was lonely all the time or felt lonely all the time. Of course I had my friends and family who I love dearly, but for some reason that wasn't enough. I was desperate in finding a significant other. I thought maybe if I strongly liked someone who strongly liked me also, then I would feel happy. That theory was only temporary. I ended up trying different dating apps and talking to strangers, but it usually would not work out well. So, then I deleted them all.
One day when I had my annual physical check-up, my doctor had found some changes that I was becoming unhealthy. I gained a lot of weight, my blood test showed some changes that I was borderline unhealthy. I came to the realization that I was a mess. I let myself go. I wasn't taking care of myself and my body. I had the mentality that I did't have to worry about anything, because I'm still young. I was wrong. I let my mental health take over who I am. With that scare, I forced myself to get back into the routine of eating healthier and exercising more.
At the moment, I am focusing more on myself. I am trying to worry less about finding my significant other. I've been going on morning runs and exercising every day, which makes me motivated in doing and trying different things, like being a social butterfly and getting work done quickly. My runs make me feel so much better. I feel less stressed, less anxious, less depressed. I feel happier. I am moving towards dealing with my mental health without the help of medication, which was always a goal. I am finally going through a positive path. Let's just hope it will last.

Emptiness.

Image via mochacafe.tumblr.com

I wish I was able to not fake my happiness most days. It really sucks to constantly feel this emptiness in your gut. I know that there are a bunch of techniques to trick the mind into thinking you are totally okay, but it also takes a lot of energy. I am always tired and not always up for working my brain unless I have to. I mean, fatigue is one of the symptoms of depression, which is something I deal with everyday. I know that my anxiety is the primary reason to my depression. Me worrying leads to me becoming depressed. Recently, I haven't been so depressed that I forget to eat, or I'm feeling tearful. I just feel like there's something I'm missing in my life and I can't pinpoint it. I'm happy with all the people that I have in my life. I'm happy with the things I have. I just don't know what's making me feel unhappy. Again, it could be me just worrying that's making feel this way. It sucks when there's a chemical imbalance in my brain when I try my best to live my life to the fullest. Though, I am now starting to get out my own comfort zone, and that's a good thing. I'm slowly getting there in terms of handling my anxiety well, but it's not something I can get rid of. I always find myself alone, even though I'm not. I can tell you that there is not a time where I have not thought about my existence. It is definitely one of the many things that run through my mind all the time. I sometimes feel like my heart is actually empty. Like, there's a hole in my chest. This empty feeling keeps me from doing most of the things I enjoy. It keeps me unmotivated to do anything, responsibilities or not. I wish I can actually explain exactly how I feel, but I don't know how and what it would be compared to. It's not like a someone emotionally hurt me, or ripped my heart from my chest kind of thing, because that didn't happen at all. I just feel like I'm letting myself rot slowly in misery.