Weight of the World

I am so upset that all I want to do is run to my mum and have her run her hands through my hair. I want to rest and I just want my family around me. I don't want to do anything, see anything, hear anything. I just want them here with me, right now.

This is so incredibly stupid.

I turned 22 a couple days ago and it was the worst birthday I've had in recent memory. I spent the entire weekend sleeping because I couldn't bring myself to celebrate - depression will do that to you. It also didn't help that it felt like a repeat of that time I turned 19, when everyone forgot my birthday.

Ok, everyone is a bit of a stretch, but I was thoroughly disappointed. I won't delve too deep into that, though, because that is not the point of this post today.

The point is that I've been living life on hard mode and I have refused to admit it ever since it was pointed out to me. "Hard mode" for me doesn't necessarily mean financial hardships or resource constraints, although my stubbornness does mean that I occasionally have to face those anyway. My hard mode looks like doing too much or not doing nearly enough for myself. I spend weekdays grinding for hours on end, running from work to class to grocery stores and then home at some ungodly hour, waking up at 5 (or 6 AM on days I'm lucky) to finish work, only to do it over and over again until the weekend hits.

When the weekend does finally arrive, I am so exhausted and overwhelmed from the week that I've had that I spend the entire 2 days or so rotting in bed. I think it's because I finally find the time to switch off instead of constantly being in a state of fight or flight.

I always choose fight, by the way. I don't have the opportunity to run anymore.

All my feelings that I've put off over the week hit me at once, so the depression that I have worked so hard to keep at bay comes back and hits me in full swing. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing can fix that. The only way to escape it is to throw myself back in my work, but I am too tired to do that. I put off tasks to do during the weekend, but I can never bring myself to do them. I feel like a failure for wanting to rest. I don't even get to rest; I spend that time staring at my ceiling and wondering where the fuck I went wrong.

Comparison is the thief of joy, and I try not to do it, but how do I cope with being worse than an older version of me? The version of me that existed up until 3 years ago could do everything; a fresh high school graduate working 2 jobs, managing teams full of people and being responsible for actual children, constantly pushing myself out of my comfort zone and doing things I didn't even know existed. Before that, studying and constantly outperforming the rest of my class, while also managing 2983120 projects and other responsibilities.

I am not even 1/10th of the person I used to be. The drive, the motivation, the absolute determination to get things done - I seem to have lost it all. I keep hearing from other people how I am incredibly hardworking and they are surprised by my level of output, but how do I explain to them that what they are seeing is not real? I am a fraud, an imposter. I am good at pretending like I am good at something, but I am as hollow as they come. I've been doing my degrees for 3 years now, yet if you put me in a first-year class for any of my subjects, I can almost guarantee that I would fail. I've learned nothing, yet I keep acting like I know it all.

The older I get, the worse I seem to become. I am undiagnosed still, and I suspect that perhaps trying to pretend like I have a neurotypical brain is making my life all the more difficult. I also disagree, however, because I truly believe that that is just me making an excuse for my laziness and pure incompetency. I love playing the victim card, as I have been told, and this is me doing that yet again. I am not necessarily stupid, I just don't put in the work because I would much rather complain and be lazy and act like I'm busy and swamped because people seem to love that and won't stop validating how "hardworking" I am.

Do you see how I talk to myself, about myself? I am beyond saving.

But also, what if this is me trying to gain sympathy points? This whole act of self-awareness could be nothing more than a blatant, embarrassing attempt at trying to get people to feel bad for me.

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Sometimes even I am surprised by what I write. When I go down this rabbit hole of self-hatred, I am shocked to see just how inherent it is and how much I am disgusted by myself. It doesn't help that I truly believe I am unlikeable and unloveable unless I am presenting a version of myself that isn't normally me. I have so much evidence supporting this theory, too. It's difficult to convince yourself otherwise when this is what you've been told by everyone around you your entire life.

I just want my family here, man. They're the only people who have constantly stuck by my side and continue to love me despite the shit I put them through. Everyone else just leaves. I am tired of being left and forgotten. I want to feel special too. I want to be loved too. Why is it so much to ask for?

# I haven't been feeling like myself for a while. Not sure what to do, but I thought writing might be a good start. It's a lot of self-pitying, I know, but this is how I feel.

# I have also been having dreams which have not helped.