MourningFlower
Optimistic Nihilist
- Jan 8, 2025
- 20
This is just a general vent, so please feel free to ignore me. Questions are welcome, but there are some things I would rather not talk about.
I have SchizoAffective Disorder. Bipolar type. I broke down at 21 (I'm now in my 30's, please don't remind me), and have very few memories from around that time, thanks to episodes and a point blank refusal to believe anything presented to me as fact. I trusted nobody, not even my own Mother, who is sadly now no longer with us.
My life has been... chaotic, to say the least. I have a tendency to oscillate rapidly between borderline agoraphobe and NEVER inside. I enjoy being alone, I love the peace it brings. But yet, I always find myself craving the intimacy that comes from genuine friendships. Romantic relationships... not so much. While a companion would be nice, and I see the benefits of having somebody to love and be loved by, I've been abused. It's a whole thing, and I'm still processing/grieving a LOT of things I never thought would happen. I've been seeking therapy again, but it's a long process. There are so many in need, and as I'm not on the verge of CTB, or at least not perceived that way, I'm not a priority here. My main option is private, and I need to pay off debts/get my finances in order before I can seek it.
My hallucinations tend to leave me in a state of not trusting reality. Things warp. They twist. They drop away. I've spent 3 hours staring at a wall before, watching the shooting stars. And the voices? They're not inside my head. They come from outside. I speak with them often, but sometimes it's not worth listening. Music helps. Art helps even more, but I'm tired of hearing "You should turn that into a business!" from well meaning, but ultimately underqualified people. My art is my hobby, a passion, something I do for fun and cartharsis. Not a business, not something to be sold.
I find it rather ironic that I can support others, but when I'm on a downward spiral, I won't listen to reason. Or logic. Or kindness. I don't believe I deserve it, despite being told so many times I do.
All this to say, I'm still here. Still fighting. Still screaming into the void. For how much longer, I don't know, but while I still am, I will continue to be myself, in whatever state that comes. It's all I know.
I have SchizoAffective Disorder. Bipolar type. I broke down at 21 (I'm now in my 30's, please don't remind me), and have very few memories from around that time, thanks to episodes and a point blank refusal to believe anything presented to me as fact. I trusted nobody, not even my own Mother, who is sadly now no longer with us.
My life has been... chaotic, to say the least. I have a tendency to oscillate rapidly between borderline agoraphobe and NEVER inside. I enjoy being alone, I love the peace it brings. But yet, I always find myself craving the intimacy that comes from genuine friendships. Romantic relationships... not so much. While a companion would be nice, and I see the benefits of having somebody to love and be loved by, I've been abused. It's a whole thing, and I'm still processing/grieving a LOT of things I never thought would happen. I've been seeking therapy again, but it's a long process. There are so many in need, and as I'm not on the verge of CTB, or at least not perceived that way, I'm not a priority here. My main option is private, and I need to pay off debts/get my finances in order before I can seek it.
My hallucinations tend to leave me in a state of not trusting reality. Things warp. They twist. They drop away. I've spent 3 hours staring at a wall before, watching the shooting stars. And the voices? They're not inside my head. They come from outside. I speak with them often, but sometimes it's not worth listening. Music helps. Art helps even more, but I'm tired of hearing "You should turn that into a business!" from well meaning, but ultimately underqualified people. My art is my hobby, a passion, something I do for fun and cartharsis. Not a business, not something to be sold.
I find it rather ironic that I can support others, but when I'm on a downward spiral, I won't listen to reason. Or logic. Or kindness. I don't believe I deserve it, despite being told so many times I do.
All this to say, I'm still here. Still fighting. Still screaming into the void. For how much longer, I don't know, but while I still am, I will continue to be myself, in whatever state that comes. It's all I know.
