Well, well, well...
Look who done and fucked up again...
I simply said, "I wanna matter to someone..." And the anxiety monster hit me, what irks me most, are people who throw themselves self-pity parties and play victims to circumstances they've created for themselves and when I feel like I'm becoming one of those people... I slap myself silly until I can "snap-out-of-it."
And these last few weeks - that's been my struggle because I'm tired of being the listener, the compassionate one, the one who will be there for you even you're a complete asshole or a C U Next Tuesday... So I put my foot down and refused to be there... To be anywhere...
And my apologies for the foul language because my mental illness got the best of me these last few weeks and I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.
You see, I have an amazing gift and a curse; in the crowdest of rooms, I can be alone.
Being alone, mentally, makes me feel at peace in crowds, parties, concerts, etc. My ability saves me from having an anxiety attack in crowded places, in incredibly annoying people and uncomfortable situations.
BUT this same gift becomes a curse when the monster between my temples makes me feel lonely.
Huh! What the actual fuck... That shit doesn't make sense...
Yeah! Well, fucking welcome to my universe.
When I want to save myself from having an anxiety attack, I go to my happy place. I have my "go-to-happy" thoughts that make me feel alone and safe.
But this ability is a double-edge sword... When I'm not careful and when I am over compensating just to survive, this gift becomes a curse.
Just as I have my "go-to happy" thoughts, I also have my "fuck-living" thoughts.
I suppress my demons with many methods, some healthy, some conventional, some unconventional, some unhealthy and some extremely unhealthy methods.
I try my best to LIVE everyday but these last few weeks were simply about SURVIVAL.
I await the "snap-out-of-it" moment like a shelter-dog awaiting their forever home.
Until that moment arrives, I feel like I'm screaming but no one hears me, I feel like I'm drowning in a pool of mud or trapped in a transparent box, where no one sees me... I try to survive a blurry existence!
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| Photograph by my husband +Victor Ngo Location: Alviso Marina County Park |
And for a long-second I think of a world without me And cry myself to sleep And then wake-up to do it all over again until I can "snap-out-of-it"
If you read my last blog, I revealed that I've had three instances where I just couldn't "snap-out-of-it."
OR
When I felt the only way to "snap-out-of-it" was to end it all.
With the recent death of an artist, I've reignited the conversation...
The conversation where I feel like I have to explain the struggle because most "normal" folks just don't get It...they said...
He's a coward, he's selfish, he's dramatic, he had 6 kids... And so on...
Perhaps there isn't a good enough reason (My mantra in the years since my attempts has been "Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem") BUT I understand the urge, I understand the need, I understand...
And the greatest detriment to our human existence is the lack of understanding and compassion.
He spoke of his demons in his lyrics, his poems were written from a place of mental torment and for some of us his lyrics were a cathartic means to a place of healing.
His lyrics made me feel understood and even though he didn't know me nor I him- we understood each other.
And though it may seem cliché to say, you can never know anyone's journey unless you've walked in their footsteps AND even then, though we walk the same footsteps... We will live, experience and explain those footsteps with a different mechanism to survive and/or live.
But I continue to struggle, it's a DAILY STRUGGLE because my saddest moments are when I could feel lonely in a room full of people I love and that love me -
I could be at dinner with Victor and still feel lonely~
These moments I am the most genuinely sad but have no one else to blame because I feel most at peace alone. It really is a difficult thread to walk... Where I feel confined to social norms about conforming to normal socialization habits and habits that make me weird and eccentric.
This is why I so deeply admire free thinking people, especially women, who are genuinely gifted in spirit!
I aspire to love myself externally and internally~ and it's partly why I chose to write this blog-post.
I had coffee with a friend who hit me up because she wanted my advice on clothes and shopping suggestions. She mentioned I had it all together... And she said, "I'm speaking from what I see on instagram..."
This blog is a hobby and so is my Instagram.
And in my hobby, I want to be transparent... I want to be genuine- in that I am a fuck-up, I feel and look good (most of the time) at 200lbs, I am an amazing listener, I occassionally fantasize about a world without me and I thoroughly enjoy trips to Disneyland... The happiest place on earth where a fucked-up little twisted mind like mine can enjoy a little fairy faith, trust and pixie dust.
By no means have I got my shit together and I apologize if I ever made anyone feel as if I did.
This blog is meant to be a look into my "not-so-private" journals and sometimes I struggle to be more honest because I also fear being "that girl" you know, Debbie the Downer, Negative Nancy, Lugubrious Lilly...
Because I am more than my suicide attempts, I am more than my anxiety disorder, I am more than my physical body, I am more than what you see on social media...
Like a doorway, I am more than what you see at a glance, behind closed doors there is a world beyond our social media presents.
Like a doorway, I am more than what you see at a glance, behind closed doors there is a world beyond our social media presents.
That is all,
'Til next time.
Toodles,
Lillyam Perez-Ngo
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