A blog to me is like a journal in a way, of course you wouldn’t put everything into a blog that you would a journal. I have both, thoughts that I don’t want anyone else to see and little bits of this and that go into my blog.
For me, my blog is an outlet that I can just say whatever I want and no one can judge me, also, every once in a while its always nice to let people read what you’ve wrote, whether they are in the same boat, or they just like to read your stuff you let out into the Internet.
I find that writing into “cyber space” is a good release then always venting in my journal. I’ve had my journal for over a year now, I started to it help with my depression, anxiety, and panic attacks. It hasn’t done wonders but it has helped in a way. I can write down what bothers me, it’s off my chest and I don’t have to worry about people reading it.
Of course, some things I’ve written about in my blog has been personal on a level, I wouldn’t give out any names on here for the fear of someone knowing and plus its always nice to keep people out of the ‘spotlight.’
Those who know me, know I hate being the centre of attention and I certainly don’t like confrontation. I try to stay in the middle. I’m not one for starting any kind of drama and the people I care about, I’d stand up for.
As for an update on my personal struggle, well I had a panic attack in the grocery store. I’m proud of myself though because I stayed in the store, I just went to an aisle that wasn’t occupied. Thank you female products!!!
My Dad and I are getting along at the moment, which if history repeats itself won’t last too much longer before something pisses him off. The other day I had. Falling out with my step mom, but it wasn’t confrontational. I had made it halfway down the stairs to my room before she started freaking out at my dad about me. She never says anything to my face, always says it to my dad, which in turn makes him mad because why are you taking it on him. Then he’ll play messenger. And it all results into me getting beyond mad and not doing anything. Mainly because I know if I were to actually say something to her and try to stand up for myself, she’d kick me out quicker then I could blink, and secondly, I HATE confrontation. I know she’s waiting for an opportunity to present itself so she can make that final last blow and tell me to leave.
Yeah, why don’t I go live with my mom? I would, if it wasn’t or having no room and my bed going back to the family couch. I did that for a long time before I moved in with my dad. But back then it wasn’t so bad. Yeah there would be some tension but its nothing to compared to how it is now.
For reasons I’d much rather keep to myself, mainly embarrassed, I can’t exactly live on my own yet. Soon enough I’m hoping. Well, I’m sorry for anyone reading this, didn’t mean to have word vomit, but it happens I suppose. Anyway, thanks for reading 🙂
According to Aristotle, there is always a reason for everything that happens. Your experiences are designed to shape you, define you and, hopefully, grow you into the mightiest you possible.
Oh Aristotle, how your words ring true… To a point. I do believe that everything happens for a reason, which I said with everything good or bad that has happened in my life I always said “everything happens for a reason” yet it has been shaken to my very core.
Also, it is said that God will never put you into a situation you cannot handle. Again, I’m shaken to my very core.
I’ve always believed in God, and for those who don’t thats perfectly fine. I don’t attend church, I sin, I don’t believe every word in the Bible, but I do believe there is a God… Which brings me to my post.
These two things I’ve lived by in a way, maybe it’s because I needed something to help me through. Or maybe it’s another reason, comfort, knowing I’ll be alright? I’m not sure. But as of the past few years these two things that I’ve believed in so much has driven to me to a point of insanity. Don’t get me wrong, I have great people in my life, it’s what’s happening that has me scratching my head.
As of right now, my depression and anxiety, the constant arguing with my Father and step mother has me re-thinking these. I’ve been to therapy I’ve talked to people I confide in, I’m taking medication and have been, yet it’s never ending. Its always happening.
If everything happens for a reason, then what is the reason for the depression and panic attacks? Why is it that God has given me this? I feel like I’m in a hole and instead of getting out someone is throwing me a shovel to dig deeper.
I can’t answer these never ending questions, but I’m hoping the two things I’ve believed in for so long will show a reason.
Someone can only take so much before there is a breaking point, and I’ve hit mine a few times at full speed. So why?
No one can answer these, except me, and I’m not sure when I can. I feel like part of my life has been taken away. I do intend to get it back, as much as I struggle and the countless times I’ve said I’ve given up, I haven’t. I still keep trying to do things, I keep pushing myself even though its hard. I’m proud of myself when I go out and a panic attack comes and I try to get through it without having to leave the entire situation. But when it gets the best of me I hide in the corner and try to lick the wounds. I’m not sure when this chapter of my life will end and how it will all turn out, I’m hoping for the best though.
I’m thankful for the constant people in my life (which are far and few between) they have helped me and were there when I needed someone.