My mental health is at such a low at the moment. I’m struggling to do basic things. I’m constantly overwhelmed. Surprisingly this isn’t the norm for me, but the past 6 months have been so tense, so busy, so MUCH. I’m trying my best, I truly am. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like my best is good enough.
I’m so worried about upsetting everyone, I’m so scared about hurting people I love, I’ve even reached a point where screaming into the void on twitter seems useless.
It’s a strange place to be at the moment, I am stable? Most of the time. But I am easy and quick to anger, I’m so sensitive to things in comparison to the norm and its affecting every part of my life.
I miss my life a year ago, the one where I was stable enough to use my skills, stable enough to communicate effectively. I had close friends around me, or checking up on me often. I felt more whole than I do now.
I’ve spent about 2 years working on myself, learning how to process my trauma, how to live with myself and be more appropriate in situations I used to be completely unable to handle. Then we entered into the covid era. Although at first I managed much better than I could have imagined, the deterioration was subtle. Its like small cracks began to appear and I just smiled through them. But then pieces started falling, and I began falling apart and it feels like I lost my progression.
It feels like the past year has been a constant suspension in nothing but self destruction. I lost skills, stability, the ability to take myself away from situations, to even go for a fucking walk.
I miss living on my own. Not because I particularly enjoyed it, but I was far less likely to hurt others, because I had my space. My space, where I could only hurt or bother myself.
I’m trying my best.
That’s all I can say right now.