The Odd one out

Recently I told my therapist that I feel as if I just don’t get this whole concept called Life. I just don’t get it… I have always felt like I don’t belong. Like I was this weird human being that had time traveled to the future, walking amongst human creatures that were far more evolved than I am. And that I just could not manage to catch up. For as long as I can remember I have always felt different. I know that even as a little girl, who had just moved to Europe from Africa, I had a hard time understanding how people literally work. And I am not talking about the obvious cultural differences or even the language barrier at the very start. I just didn’t get it, still don’t get it, I still feel lost…

I know that I am very sensitive and highly affected by pain and pain caused by others and general injustice. I am a woman that can’t stop over analyzing certain human interactions and emotions that come with it. As I have had my fair share of hurt, self inflicted as well as put upon me and some of which I am not even able to recollect its origin, I don’t understand why people can intentionally hurt each other. And sometimes invest with such passion in their evilness, rather than putting that energy into looking within and try to understand where that urge for hurting comes from.
This at times makes me feel numb around other people. Feel as if I am invisible, as if my whole being is vibrating on another level.

My brother once said: Woman you cannot save the world and you should really stop trying to, how noble of you it may be. And I would just nod, but still not able to let go. How could one just let go and stop caring. How do I stop?

You know what they say: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Well, I feel as if “everybody” is able to do so. Some even make such damn good lemonade, they are enjoying it as if they are sippin’ on the finest champagne. And I am out here, gulping on this watered down tart liquid that is just about able to keep me from dehydrating.

Crazy at it may seem, I always felt that my oddness had a purpose. How uncomfortable and confusing it may be. That it was destined for greatness, for the greater good. Hopefully I will be here long enough to see it or maybe it is just a matter of opening my eyes to live it.


My Progress…

A few months into my journey to healing, I thought I might share how it all has been so far.

A few months ago I was really in a dark place. I was literally done… I had expressed to some close friends that I was tired of fighting and that I felt as if there was just one way out… A dear friend managed to convince me to ask for professional help. And so I applied for help. Unfortunately there was a waiting list of at least 28 weeks in my home town. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it through that time in one piece so I chose to seek help farther away from home, with the option of relocating once there was an open spot closer to home.

Therapy started. It felt as if I finally managed to grab that lifeline that would prevent me from drowning. For me therapy is like talking to someone familiar who is able to respond on a higher psychological manner and without any judgement. After having recaptured the how and why from my point of view, the first order of business was getting me off the couch and out of the house. Before we were even going to tackle the thoughts, cognitive behavioral therapy, I needed to get out of isolation.

Now 1,5 months into therapy, I am slowly but surely more able to push myself and get out of the house. I am lucky to be surrounded by friends and family members who are truly stepping up and embracing this version of me and its needs. I, on the other hand am still struggling with what is going on and where this will lead to. I still don’t see or feel the point of it all. The purpose of me living. They say it takes time…so I guess I just have to be patient, keep on going and keep an open mind.


Please Don’t…

Don’t tell me it’s ok not to be ok. Stop saying that it is normal to have a bad day every once in a while. Don’t say I shouldn’t exaggerate and just get over it. Don’t tell me that I should focus on the positive things in my life and that this will pass sooner than I can imagine. My Mental Wellness will not just improve with some encouragement or kind words. Sure the love is appreciated, but I didn’t end up in this place because I was not trying to be receiving of.

I have come to the realization that people rather not speak of the less nicer things in life. Although everybody experiences stressful or even traumatic events to a certain extent in their life, what is seen or shown is mostly the good or the positive outcome of their journey. Don’t get me wrong I do understand that highlighting on the hardships in your life won’t do you any good. But for me, who is quite sensitive and shares practically everything it is hard to deal with only seeing one side of the medal. It takes away a big part of the realness and even worse makes me feel alone in my struggles and at times very misunderstood. And this all makes it even harder to share how truly dark the darkness gets.

And I feel that, because people rarely share the other side of that medal, the world of Mental Wellness is one of many paths unknown. Speaking from my own experience, not giving my Mental Health the proper attention only makes it worse. Because Blessed, I have done it all! I went from confronting the negative feelings and thoughts head on to literally running or rather flying away from them. I took on challenges, stripping away all the noise in my life like materialism and unhealthy lifestyles. Reading self help books, watching inspirational videos and showering myself with positive affirmations. Even taking the next step in my career and living situations. Everything I could think of as a way to get rid of the numbing pain that was boiling inside of me. And lets not forget 20 years of me in and out of various therapy sessions.

And yet…here I am again. After all the above that I have tried and done, wishing it was working. I find myself with this Depression, back with yet another specialized psychiatrist.

What I am basically trying to say is that in this hashtag positive prone society we live in, there is this huge other world of people just like me that do not rhyme with the whole #ilovemylife kinda vibe. They might try to, I sure have and still am! But don’t be too quick to ignore it when the message comes out differently or the hashtag isn’t as joyful as you are used to.
Mental Illness is Real.


We are Back!!!

Where last week things were in an up, this week it is all tears, misery, doomsday, nauseating negativity and utter sadness.

The world seems so surreal. How is it possible or even allowed for a person to feel such overwhelming sadness, hopelessness and defeat.

I am well aware that this journey I chose to take on is one of many twists and turns and even more ups&downs. It is just that I wonder…when is it enough. Those dark days are really dark.

When I look at myself in the mirror I see nothing. An empty shell. I feel nothing, I register none. There is a figure, apparently female who has put on a massive amount of weight. Both on her shoulders and on her entire body. The skin on her face lost its glow, its vibrancy and smoothness. What rests is casket ready grayness with lumps and bumps, dark circles under her eyes, that reflect the deep depths of her depression.

And then that scary question arises: Will this ever end, Will I ever feel something other than sadness, How will it end…