Whatever it Takes

Dear Diary,

I'm thinking about stopping reaching out. I feel entirely alone and isolated, even if people talk with me. I can't stop the negative thoughts. It's like they've broken through a dam in my mind and they're overrunning it.

There is nothing. There is no life, and there is no one. I have nothing left. I am dead inside.

I am really, really sorry if I hurt anybody. I can't feel anything. My life is ruined. It's a sham I'm trying to hold together, it's no good anyway. There's no use. It's easier to let go than to keep on fighting.

I can't stop the flood.

Dear Diary,

I have to keep on going somehow. I do.

Dear Diary,

I hate myself again today. I am a weak coward and I am tired of this stupid healing and being gentle bullsh*t. I need to fight but I dont know who or where the enemy is. I dont know who to punch.

I am so ashamed of myself. I am the villain in the story, not the hero. Even though there was a time I swore I would never let myself look at myself as the villain again.

My only crime is violence against myself. Yes, I was physically abused. By myself. How the hell am I supposed to heal from that?

I should have never left Los Angeles. At least there I was working through my emotions. Here Im back to being dead. I am going to destroy everything and then maybe I wont want to destroy myself.

Dear Diary,

I feel sad. I feel overwhelmed, and tired. I need to go take care of myself. I had a long day, and I overextended. And I regret it.

I also feel lonely. Which is driving me to avoid the things I need to do to take care of myself this evening.

- Singer

Dear Diary,

I can't sleep tonight. I don't know why. My only guess is that I got over-tired. Over-extended myself today. Tomorrow is a big day for me, too -- seeing the psych NP for meds.

- Singer

Dear Diary,

I know I'm a broken record. Which I feel ashamed of, too. But this is what I was going to say.

I feel so ashamed of myself. For some reason, friendship from the friends I do have isn't enough. I feel guilty for that. For some reason, it isn't filling some hole that I have. For some reason, nothing is. For some reason, I need something more. I don't know that I believe I will find that something more.

Im not pursuing anything thats important to me in life right now. I have so many goals and dreams and theyre just sitting there. And the responsibility is all mine to fulfill them. Theres people younger than me making TED talks and completing projects and feeling fulfilled and doing great things and I wanted to be one of them. I was supposed to be one of them. I dont understand whats happening to me and why Im such a failure at everything. I dont know whether or not its my fault that I dont ever have any energy anymore. I dont see what good could possibly ever come from what Im going through right now. I dont want to help other depressed people. I dont like depressed people. I dont think theyre worth helping. I dont want my problems. I want someone elses. I dont find my own life valuable in enough of a way. I feel like Im the type of person who will win the consolation prize, and I want to be the type of person who will win the first prize.

Even if an antidepressant helps me feel better, it's a cop out to take one. I won't have overcome my own obstacle. I won't have faced my challenge and overcome it. What will be true is that I will have admitted that I am an invalid; admitted that I am a victim; admitted that I have failed, that I am weak, that my body isn't working, that my brain is permanently now and forever and always has been out of my control. In other words, I will have admitted that I am not worth breathing the air of this planet Earth. For personally, there is nothing I detest and fear more than people who are invalids, so sick that they are a burden to those around them -- that some overly kind human has to, through guilt, sacrifice far more than they want, in order to care for that invalid. I don't believe we should keep people like that alive. I don't believe it is kind to them or to anyone. For they do not exhibit their own courage, they simply exist feeding off of others' kindnesses; and the caretakers are doomed to live a life carrying someone else's burden.

Listen to how much of a villain I sound....

I have become that invalid, that person I detest. And that's why I am going to ask for an antidepressant. And in order to do that, I have to first admit that I have become what I detest. I have to admit that I hate myself, as an act of self-care. What sense does that make? I am pretty sure this pattern of thought is somehow related to the religion in which I grew up, where one had to convince themselves that they were, and then admit that they were, a detestable and unworthy sinner before they were deserving of grace, forgiveness, and love.

But I want to be done with that. I don't want that to be my problem anymore. I am surrounded by my family, who I can tell has wisdom and who loves me. I must be the incorrect one for having perceived my religion this way. It must be my fault. The anxiety and depression must have come first. It couldn't have been the religion that caused the anxiety and the depression. Otherwise, every practicing Christian in the world would be as severely anxious and depressed as I. But many of them seem to be more hopeful and to have more faith. Which means that I am simply an invalid, with a broken body and brain. Unworthy of life. Funny how that works.

I look at myself writing this and I almost have compassion, but all I find is pity. I don't want to touch myself. I want to stay at arm's length. (And speaking of Christianity, that's not what Jesus historically did). I am tired of this battle. I spent years fighting Christianity, coming to terms with my own beliefs. I don't want to go through it all again. I was done with that. I'd moved on.

I am also tired of having the fight with myself over being a musician. I did not become one, but I won't move on. I keep hanging on to the dream and not pursuing it. It's torture. I did make my heart promise not to stop speaking to me, so I suppose it's faithfully doing what I ask, no matter how much it hurts. Which means that my heart is very brave. And I must be a masochist. Which makes me hate myself even more.

Or perhaps I'm simply very scared.

Dear Diary,

I am on day 3.5 of new medication. My NP explained the medication like this: it will increase my mental and physical energy. (Not solve my life). And you know what? That is what I needed. My energy had flatlined and I needed help. Now I have the energy to solve all of the many, many problems that have built up over all of the years that I have experienced so much anxiety.

**edit. I wrote this yesterday. Today, I already do not feel like my energy is increased at all. This new med is not supposed to need all of the "time" that traditional meds need to kick in. It is supposed to take effect immediately. I know I still sound like a broken record but I think I'm wasting my time. **alright. I guess I need to be on it for at least one week to see if it will truly take effect. and after that, I might need a dosage increase.

@purpleWest8143 encouraged me to speak some shame so I am going to do that here.

I feel very ashamed. I feel very ashamed about myself for all this anxiety I have experienced over all of these years. I feel so ashamed that I want to cry and I almost am crying (I am at work otherwise I would let myself cry).

I feel very ashamed that I do not have more friends. I feel very ashamed that I am not a healthy, loving, giving part of a community.

I feel ashamed that I am not better at friends. I feel ashamed that I have left my friends. I feel ashamed because I think I am sitting on the sidelines of my adventure, and I think I have been doing so my whole life even though lots of people try and tell me otherwise, try and tell me I am being brave. When I'm not. I feel ashamed that I didn't know what to do when life got hard. I feel ashamed that I didn't act like some hero, that things didn't come through... I blame it all on myself. If I had been a better friend, maybe I would have had friends to come through for me. If I hadn't done something wrong, maybe things would have gone right.

But I have had friends come through for me... right here. And just because I can't see you guys in real life, doesn't mean you aren't there. It's time to realize that. This isn't made-up, just because it's over the internet. It's still real. Just as much as a vision is real, or an out of body experience is real. There's nothing "less" about it. It's just different. I'm the only one (probably) who is judging myself.

Maybe I'm okay the way I am. Maybe people do and will like me. Maybe I don't need to be perfect and to be everything. Maybe I'm just right as a part of a team. Maybe people will care for me even though I can't do everything and even though I have insecurities. Maybe I do have strengths and things that I am good at that I can offer the world. Maybe I am able to help others and even save others' lives (if I can). Maybe people will want to help me because they like me. Maybe I have worth somehow inherently, without even knowing it. Maybe I just haven't met the people who have recognized or needed me. Maybe I have strength inside, and maybe it's okay that I've been afraid. Maybe I will overcome it when the time is right. Maybe the time is right when I have somebody to help me, so that it isn't all about me, but it's about them, too. And it's about people helping one another -- not about one person being superhumanly strong. I feel like this is right..... I hope I can hang on to it.

- Singer

Dear Diary,

I'm in a bad mood. I really like this guy, and I'm mad that I keep checking my phone every 5 minutes to see if he texted me. I feel mad that I'm so distracted. I also feel ashamed that I'm checking so often.

I also feel terrified that all of his friends would think he is better / more creative / more talented / more skilled than me too, just like my ex and I's friends thought about my ex. Because he is a creative type, too. I also feel very afraid that I would feel in competition, and that I would feel miserable. I am afraid I would repeat my disastrous relationship.

This guy has many dissimilarities to my ex. He seems kind; my ex was not. He doesn't drink at all; my ex did. He has never been a smoker; my ex was. He eats healthy; my ex didn't. He exercises and spends time in nature; my ex didn't.

But can I avoid comparing myself to him, and himself to my ex? I can attempt to. Is it (the potential relationship) worth that effort, or would it be a lost cause? Also I feel very afraid of losing myself inside or to someone else, and my own light and life becoming diminished.

I feel so tortured. He hasn't texted me back all day, not even to let me know he got the texts I sent earlier, and I feel ashamed and am judging myself for overanalyzing but also I feel worried becasue I don't know how to interpret his behavior because we have only been in contact for one week. And in that one week, we have already had one nearly two-hour phone conversation, and another one-hour FaceTime conversation! I also feel ashamed that I am pouring out my feelings on a diary here instead of making art or poetry or songs or a YouTube channel. I feel so ashamed I can't seem to escape my feelings of shame.

I also feel scared that maybe he will see what I am writing here. I also feel scared that he won't like me anymore. I also feel scared that a relationship wouldn't work out. And I feel ashamed that I am overanalyzing and feeling really anxious and worrying.

I also feel frustrated because I am trying to work on a business plan and instead of solidifying a plan I keep coming up with MORE BUSINESS IDEAS. And I feel scared and pressured because I need money and I need income and I feel ashamed that I am not farther along in life than I am, especially when I compare my life with this guy's, which worries me about even considering a relationship in the first place. I mean, I could potentially compare myself to anyone, but maybe it means I just am not ready for a relationship? I feel worried that this guy is better than me somehow.

But I like him and I like talking with him and it seems like he really likes me, a lot. But maybe he doesn't and I feel scared I'm misinterpreting it.

I feel ashamed I am experiencing such high anxiety, and I feel ashamed that I am not handling the anxiety I do feel in a more productive or somehow better way. I feel frustrated.

That's all for now.

- Singer

I give up trying to please others for love. They

I feel ashamed that I am not accomplished as a musician.

I was in a series of relationships with musicians, starting in high school. I remember the first one was in a band... he never expressed any interest in my musicality, or wanted me to be a part of his band. Even though that was what I was attracted to. Then there was someone else... I think we got into a relationship because I asked him to teach me to play guitar, haha. Or maybe I asked him to teach me to play as a way to show him I wanted to get to know him better -- it seems like that was the case. I remember I was his first kiss, and I remember being at his house and playing the piano. Then I remember in college.... having a guy friend who I asked to help teach me on the guitar. I remember feeling like I wasn't good enough, I think. Then I began dating a singer and guitar player, who was in an acapella group... and I remember I was so scared to try out for the acapella group, and I really wanted to, and I practiced for it, but I never tried out. He was the leader of a band, too. And I definitely wasn't asked to be a part of that band... and everyone seemed to love him.... I remember feeling lesser than him. Eventually he broke up with me because he had fallen in love with another girl.... who happened to be a singer. I remember thinking I wasn't good enough ... and other horrible feelings. Then... then came the long relationship with the young man who had been in a band and toured, and who was a musical composer and guitar player and filmmaker. I asked him, at first, to help teach me music, too. And he did... and then I remember I couldn't stop comparing myself to him -- I loved his music -- and I developed some sort of sickness. He did want to make music together with me, but I couldn't seem to keep up, and I felt overwhelmed and I shut down, and I don't seem to remember him doing a very good job of encouraging me, or of being gentle or kind. During one of the breaks in that relationship... I met a boy who was a guitar player, and asked him to help teach me, and he did, and we became friends, and then very briefly romantically involved. I remember that being a pleasant relationship. I didn't feel around him that I was any lesser. And then... later on.... I met a singer, and we became briefly romantically involved, and he told me he wanted to make a song together, and then he disappeared. I felt crushed, as though I was not good enough. And then, I met a roommate.... she said she wanted to make songs together, and then she didn't follow through... I felt that I wasn't good enough, and she told me I was, but I didn't like the kind of style she had, and we got into a disagreement as roommates and she moved out, and I never heard from her again.

In middle school.... middle school was different. I warmly remember a gang of girlfriends in sixth grade. We had a "singing group" together and we wrote songs together, however briefly, and practiced them a bit. I remember in seventh grade, two best guy friends and I feel like we talked about being in a band together... I don't remember exactly why it never happened. I remember also sometime in middle school, I tried out for the "elite" singing group and I didn't make the audition... I remember the instructor saying I "didn't have a solo voice" and being crushed. I remember feeling such shame, even back then, for wanting something so badly (to be a singer) and for some reason not being qualified to have what it was that I so dearly wanted. I think I internalized that horribly.

I remember when I was a kid in elementary school, and the first half of middle school, singing and singing and singing in my room, practicing and practicing and practicing, the same songs over and over and over. I remember sitting in my room for hours and days and weekends making mix tapes, for myself, for my friends.

I remember growing up as an older teenager remembering my mom talk about how she was a horrible singer.... I have vivid memories of my dad's voice saying to her, "No one wants to hear you sing." I remember thinking people didn't want to hear me sing, too.

And then I remember shame, so much shame, ever after, for not singing. I told myself I should have been proud. I told myself I should have sang anyway. I remember feeling shame for my family situation. Shame that I didn't feel supported, shame that I needed them, shame that I had to squash who I was to hear approval from them, shame that I did squash who I was to hear approval from them, shame that I had no one in my life to accept me for who I was... I am sobbing, writing this, re-living this pain.

Because the truth is, it's never left. I've never moved past it. I've tried to, oh, I've tried, in so many failed and incomplete ways. It was one of the proudest moments of my life when I made the investment in myself to pay for myself singing lessons, and then it was one of my most unspeakable joys when beyond my wildest imaginations I learned to sing and I could be good. And then I remember the day my dreams died again, the day when my teacher told me it would be ten more years of hard work practicing every day before I got to where I wanted to be. And the thought of being in my late 30s before I got there... it was overwhelming. And when I imagined my life, I didn't want my entire life to be revolved around singing like that. And so I lost my drive, and my dream began to die.

But why am I still so ashamed? Why, even today, am I attracted to and starting to date another musician? Why even last week, did my dream of being a songwriter and singer resurrect?

- ironically, Singer