Threads.

You’re on your own kid, you always have been.

~ Taylor Swift -2022

I refused to let myself post because I knew it would be too indicative of the fact that I am in an active depression swing, an absolute breakdown of every superficial substance I’ve tried to hide behind all year.

There’s no more enthusiasm or desire, just this yearning. Quiet, defeated surrender that disguises itself as peace.

I have anything but.

It’s torment, this emotional battle I’ve waged on myself for every birthday that passes and the increasing paranoia that I am sliding further into an inescapable fate of oblivion and mediocrity.

Perhaps that’s what it always has been but anyone with eyes can argue I am absolutely better even at this level of low.

It’s a different flavor of chaos for me, in its own silence that tears at me with desperation and thirst for stimulation that I vicariously taste through glimpses of reality on my phone and television screens.

I don’t leave my house or my bedroom. I don’t reach out until I have kaleidoscope eyes and torrential rivers of anxiety flowing through me, pushing me to change the narrative and just tell someone. Anyone. So that I don’t succumb to it alone. At least someone knows.

At least I can say I tried.

But I’m fighting, actively, against the leftover voices telling me that this is it and there’s no hope left.

There is something, there has to be, underneath all of this broken yarn in me that I am pulling at for even an ounce of truth under them.

The truth that my life is worth something still, that I am worth anything to keep fighting for still.

After all this time, I have still managed to cling to endless disaster and the ghost of love to escape it.

There is no escape this time. Just me and myself. That’s all I have and all I need, supposedly, so where’s the payoff exactly?

I’ve never understood the point of solitude except to hide in my phone from the world, from the chances of meeting my impending doom that keeps running scenarios in my head.

If there was ever a term for someone obsessed with their own death and how to prevent it, though somehow also inching towards it through extremely toxic decisions in the past, it would be conjoined with my portrait.

There is simply too much dark energy surrounding me ever since Halloween. I was filled with a profound sadness when my birthday came and went with so much love and attention to it, and yet I have never felt lonelier in my life.

I tell myself it’s worth it somehow. I tell myself this is the time I need to heal, much like my torn fingernails ravaged by their previous acrylic fill that so many people complimented me on.

I’m facing too much insecurity to feel the confidence that should be brewing in me for such a lovely chance to reconcile with myself after so long of not having that chance. To be completely laid bare from all addictions, hardly any medication to fall back on, and to face myself head on with all of my fears on the table to finally encounter.

It’s a way for me to leave behind my past and welcome my present, a new lifestyle with just myself to focus on and not the usual toxic escape route I always made my relationships out of.

Besides, I am not as alone as I may feel. I know this for a fact, but I don’t seek the connection when I am in this self-isolation phase of my depression swings. I hide from everyone, seeking my own warmth to guide me because I am too fatigued to play niceties and risk triggering my people-pleasing because I am simply too tired for it.

I watched Selena’s documentary My Mind & Me, and I must say I was sorely disappointed. As a fellow Bipolar diagnosee, whatever I am, truly, I wasn’t impressed. She left out so much of what we actually go through. The insomnia, the relapses, the risks, the tears, the anxiety, the frustration, the absolute inability to be alone.

I am ripping at myself, layer by layer and piece by piece. Because I have to go back to the center, to myself. I just hope there is still someone there that I can love and be proud of like so many people claim there is.

I just hope it isn’t too late for me.

Take the moment and taste it-

You got no reason to be afraid.

You’re on your own kid.

Yeah, you can face this.

Taylor Swift, 2022