There’s an empty notebook where my brain used to be…

…And all the pages feel like they are full of all my secrets in invisible ink. Every word that has ever come out of my pen, or from my lips – jumbled up in this giant mess that is taunting me in a manner that only I can hear.

Disclaimer: A lot of the stuff I’m writing about here should come with a trigger warning. For my readers who have been in abusive relationships – or who have PTSD or related anxiety issues – some of this may trigger these issues.

I’m not going to lie – things have been really raw lately. Usually when things get like this, I can’t stop writing. As the years have dragged on though, and I put another tally mark on the wall, I’ve felt less and less like shouting my words defiantly…less like speaking my truth, and more like crawling deeper into a hole to just keep the sky from falling in on me.

Do not misunderstand – there are a lot of good things going on in my life right now, A lot I am grateful for. Most of it is just seen through the lens of someone who has let herself become far more jaded than she swore she would be. There comes a time when it becomes very difficult not to see every light at the end of the tunnel like a train roaring to life to flatten everything.

I’ve been open on this blog about my struggles with mental illness – primarily anxiety, Bipolar disorder, and PTSD. This time of year is always a little more difficult for me than others. Specifically the months of September through February. Most of that is chemical. My brain gets a little wonky in the winter and starts shooting out less of the chemicals that typically keep most people from feeling worn out and down. As the years go on though, more and more of it is just that if stressful and difficult things are going to happen – they tend to all coordinate with the other ones and rapid fire their way through these months.

This year is no different.

Three years ago in September, one of my best friends passed away very suddenly in his sleep. This is someone who was very special to me, and I’m not going to lie – it messed me up a lot more than I let on to most people.

I’m not someone who has always found it easy to let people close to me. The ones who make it there, I usually try and keep close to me. Because of things that have happened (repeatedly) in the past I also have (as I’ve discovered recently because they have been more pronounced) some pretty pronounced abandonment issues.

My friends name was Andrew. I met him when I was fourteen, he was sixteen. We went to the same high school – which was for me quite a bit like surviving some bizarre teenage death match rather than the best years of my life. He was really nice to me, and I was a really anxious and awkward teenager with very few social skills. He was my first dance partner, we dated a few times but the things I remember most about him are that no matter what happened, no matter what time of day or night it was – I could call him and he would be there for me. I haven’t had a lot of that in my life, and until very recently he was one of a very few people that I felt that safe around (I’ve got a lot more of them these days).

I talked to him the morning of his death, we had planned to hang out. I was in a really messed up head space and he was there for me. I got a call that evening that he had died in his sleep. His heart just stopped. I’m not going to lie – mine did that day a little too.

I had a relationship  that came on the heels of this relationship that was unbelievably abusive – Physically, Mentally, and Sexually. I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks to those days recently because a lot of things are going on that are triggering it.

When you are in that kind of situation a lot about how you think about things – especially yourself changes. When I got with the person I was with after the profoundly abusive one, my sense of self worth was obliterated. I went into it pretty much just being happy that someone was paying attention to me and not hitting me or telling me every day that I was worthless. Because of that, I wasn’t really good at taking care of myself. I actually kind’ve forgot how.

I dealt with a lot of things in that time that, looking back on it, were absolutely not things anyone in a functional relationship should ever have to deal with. Looking back, it was really not the best place for me to be at all. It wasn’t really fair to either of us – but that kind of thing only comes in hindsight.

With the holidays being here in full swing now, I’ve been working longer hours. I’ve been having to deal with family issues that I never thought I would (and out of respect for my family I am not going to detail them here) and honestly – lately I’ve just been feeling under way more pressure than I have in a very long time.

Writing is usually what I do when I need an outlet. Lately though, when I sit down to write, everything has gone blank. There is just a lot going on in my mind all the time but nothing wants to come out. I’ve been having nightmares again, which comes and goes but there has been a lot of things happening that have been triggering memories of a lot of the old trauma.

A lot of good things are happening as well though, which is where that analogy of the train comes in. Historically when good things happen in my life its only a matter of time before the house of cards falls all around me. Sometimes this is my own doing – and I’m working on changing a lot of those patterns.

Seeing my family is always stressful – because I come from one of those families that doesn’t really talk about issues. We all just sort of live with them. This is not (As you can tell by reading some of my posts) how I operate.

I’ve spent the last few years trying to heal and become a better person. It feels very much at this moment like two steps forward, one step back. I will get through this though. I just need to get back into the habit of writing every day. I need to do some more things daily for myself. Get back into healthier routines and stop dwelling on this stuff – but I’m not going to lie. Its hard for me.

If you read all this – thank you. If not? Thanks for stopping by anyway.

I hope to update this again in a couple days, if only to check in.

Love to all of you-



2 thoughts on “There’s an empty notebook where my brain used to be…

  1. Still burns me that you’ve gone through such treatment, of all the things in the world that boil my blood, domestic violence is waaay up there. I’ve lost a few friends to death, suicide, illness, and some just disappeared. I’ve always been a move forward person, but sometimes you just cant yet, and people love to bury their problems in the hope of them just melting away with time. It doesn’t work like that. I’m starting to get on the soap box but i want you and anyone else to know, there are always people out there to talk to, me, or another close friend, sometimes even a stranger. Talking can help, but it wont fix it, sometimes there is no fixing it, only mending the foundation and pushing forward.

    • Thank you for your constant understanding in things like this. It’s hard to explain why it still feels so raw sometimes and I wish it didn’t but…all we can do is deal with what is right in front of us you know? I’m getting there 🙂

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