…. But what if THIS Is what you tell yourself
when you ARE lying to yourself....??
BECAUSE... It was the Very OPPOSITE that
NONE OF THAT was ALL True when I was a child.
Some of the opposite is true again for now I’m an adult; some reasons are the same and others are different.
Sometimes It IS as bad as you think.
But in my experience… It’s always freaking Worse.
They always told me [when a kid] “It’s never going to be as bad as you think it is/will be” … Only they meant it would be better.
…. I’ll give it to them, there were right… But that was only because I could have NEVER IMAGINED what DID happen — because neither my mind or imagination were sick enough, cynical enough, disturbed enough, or imaginative enough to ever have come up with the shit that DID Happen, that I actually DID have to go through and deal with.
And the very same goes to now, as well.
Unfortunately….
The only difference is now I am loved. The res… Still Very Not True.
Sometimes Reality is what it IS. and sometimes the “good stuff” is just “wishful thinking”.
“Positive Thinking” to me, as a child, meant imagining the worst of the worst, or preparing for it — so IF it wasn’t that bad, I was lightheaded with joy that it hadn’t been horrifically awful. It made me happy. Then if it WAS utterly horrendous, I was prepared and able to look it straight in the face and Deal With It head-on.
It took until I was 32 to hit a wall of Granite Bricks that was impenetrable and even I could not imagine Just How Bad It Was Going To Get. And then watch as it got Even Worse Than That. Again, and Again, and Again…
I’m Depressed because I’m trapped in a sordid web of horror that anyone would love to escape from, barely existing in a waking nightmare I’ll never be able to leave [alive]. It’s not because it’s distorted; it’s because I CANNOT Distort it; Distort The Truth, so I can feel that at least I had some hope or breath of air in my life.
I CANNOT say I’ve survived worse anymore — I could honestly say that at one point as an adult when this started; I went through HELL as a child. There are FAR more than 7 Circles of Hell, and I’ve frankly lost count of them all by now…
But what happened after a certain point in time… This became beyond the worst thing ever to have happened to me, and for longer than I’ve endured anything else of intensity-levels anywhere near this.
Bottom line, the fact is, I WISH my mind would lie to me. I wish it c/would tell me something different to what was going on or distort what this reality is. I wish I could disengage and dive into Fantasyland like I used to, away from this reality. I wish my brain would tell me factionalised lies and help me forget.
If I could just break the 4th wall INTO a book or a game or some movies/TV Show, it would mean some pressure would come off. But I can’t do this. If I could manage to Disassociate and Disangage from myself long enough to make something up, anything, I’d get a break from this perpetual nightmare.
I try not to be Depressed by the life I have been forced to lead. But Unless I disengage from the realities of my Real Life, I’ll never get any rest or happiness.
I would have to totally disengage with Reality to believe those statements are, in any way, true (except the first, these days). I would have to distort reality TO STOP being Depressed... Because I can find no way to be "OK" in ANY way with where I am Right Now. Suicide ideation is my No. 1 mental thought process.
There's also another side to Being Depressed... People seem to not realise some things can actually even WORSE than they seem... and that means that what you are living with is... actually unlivavble. They also do not realise that the Depression itself is sometimes just about all that's keeping you alive, in some cases. Mine in particular, many times.
They don't realise that because you're too low to do anything, it also means you're too low to head for the pills, the gun, to run to the train tracks or jump in front of a car, or off a bridge... I've been left alive oftimes because I just simply couldn't leave the bed or couch, otherwise I'd be dead a hundred times over. If I became aware of my surroundings, if I got upset and adrenaline from it coursed through me, then I'd be at the pills, the sharp things, my hand on a gun, out the door to see which mode of transport would kill me first or the fastest. It's when that happens I am immensely dangerous, to both myself and others; but only if others get in my way or upset me deeply.
On occasion, it's doing it now; the rest of the time, I'm at least trying to tell it to Shut UP.
I am left helpless in this catastrophic horror story I am forced to live through. It's been too long to save me from what I'm going through. It cannot be stopped or reversed. It cannot be escaped or prevented. I am helpless in dealing with it, and left helpless because of it. The only change will be to get worse still...
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