You know when you believe that they won’t hurt you… they probably will. Expecting someone that you love, that’s loves you back, expecting them to never hurt you is delusional. We’re all human, we are all capable of destruction. Some of us learn this the hard way… but the only way to get over hurtful events is to accept that it happened (this is the most important step) resisting change is foolish because change will occur whether you like it or not. You can either take that change and use it to your advantage (learn something from it) or you can wallow in your misery and let your life deteriote from there.
First I wouldn’t get outta bed. I would cry myself to sleep because I was in disbelief; I couldn’t accept the idea that the guy who loves me so much did this to me. And it still hurts, it really does. But I’ve accepted it. I don’t cry that much about it anymore, but then again it’s been three months. First month I drowned in my misery, second month I took up yoga to lower my anxiety (and it worked for me) and I smoke a lot of weed too so I guess that kinda just numbs it out. I don’t recommend doing drugs or drinking alcohol for your misery because it becomes habit and habits are hard to break
I’m in my third month now, I laugh more, I appreciate my surroundings, I work my ass off at school, but I still have moments of weakness. When familiar songs come on, when I read something, when I watch something, when my stories consist of me and him, when I smell his cologne.
It does get easier, it has gotten easier but it still really hurts but eventually I know there’s always light at the end of the tunnel and I can’t go down from here I can only go up.
Sephora keeps sending me emails about their beautiful products that I want. But then my bank account laughs at me. Really hard. And I… I just laugh with my bank account …
All jokes aside, being grateful for all the beautiful things life has given me has helped me immensely. Helped with my “secret” episodic depression. I am grateful to be able to eat, to not live in fear, to live in such a great country where I don’t get judged on my skin colour but more on my actions. In Canada, our judgment goes out to people who don’t hold doors open for others, give up their seats for the elderly, etc. I am grateful to have a loving family, to have friends I can call family, to have clothes, to be able to drink water whenever I please, for free too.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that, once you count your blessings, it lightens up your mood, or at least it lightened mine up. Instead of fantasizing of having more, I have learned to appreciate what I currently have and not have this delusion of having everything in the world. Inner happiness is a peace of mind and no amount of money can bring you that.
To my fellow readers, who have suffered through depression, or feelings similar to mine. Next time you have an episode I want you to stand still in whichever place you are in, and look around, like really look around; take in what life has allowed you to have. Perhaps if you’re in the bedroom, appreciate that u have a bed to sleep on OR even a roof to sleep under. Maybe even smile to yourself once in a while.
One question I would like to ask if that: if you were faced with complicate situations , do you look at it with a glass half full or half empty… how would you answer?
5 Am study sessions happen when I don’t use my time wisely. You’d think after four years of university, I wouldn’t do that. But we’re all human. We all make mistakes, get depressed, waste time.
Right now, I’m up and away studying for law and society. I’m hoping the test isn’t too hard because only God can help me at this point.
All this time I have but it never feels like enough to complete the tasks I have to do.
I am craving Indian food 😭 it’s soooooo good
I’ve smoked weed for about five years now. I am what you call a functioning pothead. I can do everyday tasks efficiently whilst smoking or I use to be able to. Nowadays, it doesn’t feel the same. I don’t like the high anymore. It feels like the only reason I am smoking is to feed my addiction. I’m been pondering on whether to quit… or not to quit.
A year ago I would’ve happily gotten married. My friends asked if right now, if you were to propose would I say yes, and I replied, in an instant. Now, a year later, everything is different. You’re different, you’re not the man I wanted to marry and have a future with. You’re someone else.
Now, I’ve buried those dreams, deep where I can’t reach them. Because now marriage scares me. Chills me to my bone. Because in a year so much changed and if we had gotten married, I’d have the 22 and divorced title. Because you and me, I guess we were never meant to be.
I still don’t know how to use this damn site properly. someone teach me
Being in Toronto makes my stomach churn; memories of you, being with you, are resurfacing. From jumping in the fountain with you to carving our names. It’s hard to pretend that all this doesn’t hurt me… it makes me feel suffocated. But with patience this will pass and that’s what I can do best right now. I love you but I can never be with someone like you again