I thought this time would be different.
I thought maybe he would be the one to prove my fears wrong.
I thought I could finally enjoy life instead of simply living in it.
I thought this time it would be different… but all good things must come to an end, right?
My biggest fear after separating and dealing with my mental health, was that I’ll always be single, because no one would want to put up with me.
Why would anyone want to try? Why would anyone even give me an opportunity?
Why would anyone try at all to get through and find the real me?
The me that is shy and timid to show herself, because she doesn’t want to get hurt.
The me that wants to love and be loved, but is afraid.
The me that is afraid of being taken advantage of.
The me that is afraid of losing everything again.
The me that is afraid I will just be tossed to the side once something better than trying comes their way.
I thought he would be different, but it appears I was wrong.
I thought this time would be better.
How can someone be so wrong so many times in their short life?
How can someone surpassed everything they’ve dealt with and think that there could possibly be a happy ending for them?
I am clearly not a princess. I am obviously not a goddess.
So why in the world, did I think that I could find someone that would actually want to try with me.
Why are people so lazy in this planet?
Why is trying so difficult for others?
I have more than enough excuses to not try and go as far as taking my life, if I wanted to, yet I remain here.
I am still here.
I fight everyday.
I fight my thoughts everyday.
I fight the world everyday.
I fight my very own instincts at times, when I clearly shouldn’t.
Either way, I am still here.
Breathing and seeing.
I can stand and work.
I may not have much, but I don’t give up.
I may have come close, but I didn’t commit.
I have more than enough reasons to not believe in others, yet I open my heart and my vulnerabilities, because I thought being open from the beginning and throughout would benefit us all, but looks like I was wrong.
It appears that all of my fears were right and I managed to lie to myself and talk myself out of them to put myself in situations and places that aren’t good for me.
My depression is back and the one person who should be supportive and understanding can’t even try to understand what depression is or simply what mental health is about.
I’ve explained my feelings and thoughts and gave multiple warnings of what this time of the year means to me and how my mental health becomes a huge part of my life.
Yet, I get spoken to like I’m in the way of their happiness and enjoyment of life.
I get spoken to like I WANT TO BE DISGRUNTLED OR UNHAPPY.
I don’t want to have the thoughts that I have.
I don’t want to have the dreams that I do.
I don’t want to give up.
I WANT to live my life and be happy.
No one sees how hard I work to show up everyday.
No one understands how difficult it is to be around others when all you want to do is lay in a corner in a ball and cry your heart out for no given reason, but I make a continuous attempt to not give in and be surrounded by those I think or thought loved me.
I make a daily effort to apologize if my mental health made me act a certain way to others, but no one realizes how hard or how much one has to struggle with their mental health to become so in-tune with it to realize these thoughts, feelings and actions.
No one gives us any credit for showing up everyday except us — the mental health community that live and struggle with our diagnoses.
Mental health is no something that can be thought.
Mental health is something that needs to be learned by someone who want to learn and goes out of their way to learn.
I’ve done my part and now I am done trying.