Looking Back at Older Photos
The past few weeks I’ve been very very tired. I’m still waiting for blood results, and as it turns out, getting in touch with the doctors is near impossible. Absolutely useless. What with starting a new job and having to try and stay mentally strong my brain is exhausted. I’ve spent some time the past few days looking back at older photos of myself. A warning, this post may be a bit of trigger, I am talking about past suicidal thoughts and feelings.
For well over 10 years now I have been fighting depression and anxiety, as documented. It recently dawned on me, and if you follow me on Twitter/Instagram you will have seen this post already, that a lot has changed. It was around this time of year in 2009/2010 where I had already started having suicidal thoughts, something that wasn’t obvious on the outside. I had everything written out, where, when and how (obviously I won’t go into detail what those plans where). I found myself in an extremely dark place, a place I never ever want to go to again. As the days slowly merged into one with a pattern of not sleeping and having reoccurring nightmares followed by paranoia, in my head it became clear I had to do a better job of covering how I actually felt. I was smiley and fake happy on the outside, inside though, I was already numb.
I’d spend more time alone, listening to music to try and find some sense of being. I’d self harm as a punishment to myself for being the way I was. As a result, I became more isolated, more down. I’d constantly wear baggier clothes (a habit I still haven’t got rid of) to hide myself away. I would do everything in my power to blend into the background so when eventually, my plan came to fruition, noone (in my eyes) would even notice. When my multiple attempts failed, that only made me feel worse, it made me feel like I was even more useless than I thought. What kind of person can’t even do the thing they’ve planned so carefully right?
As it turns out, someone who doesn’t actually want to die.
It’s only recently dawned on me that, maybe I didn’t actually want to go. Maybe subconsciously I messed the plan up. There is a reason I am still here, whether that is by chance or by deep down thoughts. And for that I need to be grateful.
Looking back at the older pictures for most people brings back nice memories but for me, I hate it. I hate thinking back to how I was, and who I was. I let people walk all over me. I wasn’t a nice person to be around. I hated those years so so much.
Now though, I am glad my suicide attempts didn’t work. Whilst at the time I despised myself and took further self punishment for doing it wrong, I am still here. I am still fighting. My mental health has shaped the person I am today, for both good and bad reasons. I am highly cynical, overly sarcastic and generally quite reserved. One thing I can’t shift though. I am my own worst enemy, I will always be the first person to criticise myself. It’s something I need to work on, and continue to, but my god is that difficult.
Sometimes it’s so worth stepping back from yourself and actually looking at how far you’ve come. I have achieved a fair bit in my life, some may seem minor to some people but to me…I am just happy to wake up each day now and remember it could have been very very different 10 years ago. I battle with my thoughts every single day but I always win in the end. My mental illness does not get to control my actions that much anymore. I am stronger than that.
It’s so important to remember that a single picture at a single moment in time doesn’t always tell the whole tale. Just because someone is smiling, doesn’t always mean they’re happy. Always check in with friends and family and remember to be kind. You know that hashtag that was trending for a month or so then everyone forgot about again.
IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY.
-Rachael.