Pick Yourself Up Kid
Disclaimer: Much to some people’s opposition, this is in no way posted as an attention tactic. Truthfully, that’s the last thing I could ever want. I posted this for a few reasons, those being: 1) I want this to be a space where I can document both the good and the bad in my life… this just right now happens to be the bad. 2) If there’s someone else out there who feels similarly, I want you to know that you are not alone in feeling your feelings, and if you ever need love, always feel free to reach out to me if you feel like you can’t reach out to anyone else. 3) I hope one day to look back on this and realize I’ve come a long way since being in this head space. Life comes in waves; good and bad. Remember that before thinking sadness has no end. I promise you it does.
1/21/22
“There is absolutely no part of my life that makes me feel happy right now. Literally nothing. And I always become super aware of it when I’m home alone. And being alone used to not bother me at all- in fact I used to love it, but now I’d give anything to not be alone. I feel so lost and so empty in every way. And I’ve never had anxiety this bad, or this constant, in my life. I just want to be happy again, and the last time I truly felt happy for an extended period of time was last summer while traveling. I feel like everyone hates me, or just tolerates me, and I feel like I bring absolutely nothing to the table. The only thing I felt like I had that made me initially happy for just a moment was when I got engaged, but now I’m stressed about getting married because everyone has something to say about it to the point that I don’t even like bringing it up or telling people about what’s SUPPOSED to be the happiest part of my life. And I feel so alone and so out of place in my own skin, and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. I feel worthless and unimportant and empty and disgusting and like nothing on this whole planet makes sense. Things keep happening one after another after another and I can’t keep up with all of the blows. I’m tired of trying to keep up with the blows.”
Can I be honest? Sometimes, existing sucks. It just sucks.
One day you can be on top of the world, laughing, dancing, creating, just being, and then in a split second all of it can crumble around you.
You’re floored with the sheer irony of, “How did it get this bad so fast?”
I’ll be the first to tell you, I would rather be six feet under than open up about how I’m feeling- let alone on the internet. But today, I decided to have a public pity party.
Because as you can tell from that very, depressing excerpt from my super private journal no one is allowed to touch- let alone read- I am not doing well. And I haven’t been for the last few months. And if me being unimaginably vulnerable makes you feel annoyed, or uncomfortable, or whatever, there’s a little red dot in the corner of your computer that will exit you from this website. Or if you’re on your phone, you can swipe out with the flick of a finger. It’s that easy.
Numbing Cream
I can be so good for a little while, but only as long as I’m busy.
My mom always says “Sky, you need to slow down a little. Take some time to regroup. Eat something. If you don’t feel up for it, don’t go. Why don’t you just go to bed early tonight?”
It’s because I can’t.
The second I slow down, the second my mind isn’t occupied by the things around me, the second my head hits the pillow and I’m trying, trying, trying to fall asleep, my thoughts attack me. My chest gets tight, and my breathing gets uneven, and my heart rate picks up like I’ve been doing intense cardio, and I need to sit up, and put my head in between my knees just to get a breath in.
And then I’ll turn on my light, and pull out my journal, and write everything until I can eventually fall asleep.
When I was in the seventh grade, I let my uncle use a safety pin to pierce my ears. They were my second holes, and even though I’d been here before, the last time something sharp went through my lobe, it was done professionally. I mean, as professional as Claires gets.
We held an ice cube behind my ears for 10-15 minutes, and then just to ensure that I felt nothing, he grabbed some numbing cream that his doctor had given him for after his knee surgery. He lathered that on my ear, took away the ice cube, sterilized the pin, and put it through my ear lobe like a pin cushion. I felt absolutely nothing.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
And then he did the next one.
My schedule is my numbing cream. If you were to look at all the things going on throughout the week, you’d think it was a little crazy. There’s something every single day whether it be work, or FCA, or planning something with friends, or going to a coffee shop to write, or hanging out with my mom, or Garrison, or whatever else I can think of, I’m constantly going.
There’s no pause button.
And as soon as something tragic happens, I push it down, make jokes that typically probably wouldn’t be appropriate for the situation at hand, and duck my head down into whatever it is I’ve got going on that week.
Some could say I like to keep busy.
Others could say I run myself a little ragged.
And the worst part about “staying busy,” is that when I’m not busy, I feel like the most unproductive, unambitious person around.
Which makes me hate myself even more than I previously did.
Tragic, honestly.
You’re Not Supposed to Cry While Planning Your Wedding
Last month, I got engaged. I was planning on writing a whole blog post about it because when it happened, I was beside myself with joy. I’d been nagging my friends, and thinking about this, and wanting this for so long. Garrison and I had been talking about marriage since we were only three months into dating, so this was extremely celebratory in my eyes.
It was the best thing to have happened to me in the past two months, and the day Garrison finally popped the question, I was on cloud 9. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could’ve knocked me off my little pedestal.
And then people started saying things.
“You’re so young.”
“I can’t even be happy for you because I think you’re making a mistake.”
“You shouldn’t want to be playing house at this age.”
“Do you just want to have sex?”
“Well what’s your financial plan after you get married?”
I started to dread telling people about my engagement. I had to break the news to a bunch a family on Christmas Eve, and the entire time I was there telling people, I felt nauseous.
When Christy was here at the beginning of January, her, Maika, and Maggie went with me while I tried on wedding dresses, and as we were walking up to the bridal floor, I was PRAYING no one would ask how old I was.
“Please God, I’m begging you, just get me through this so I can stop thinking about it. Please God, do not have her say something about how young I look. She offered us champagne, do I take a glass so she doesn’t say anything? Please God, bring me peace…” And on and on and on.
I’m not going to pretend like I’m older than I am, because I do know I’m young, but it’s the fact that everyone thinks they can drop their opinions on me like bombs. And what do bombs do? They hurt, and destroy, and kill.
So what was supposed to be the most exciting, joyous, beautiful time of my life, felt as if it’d turned into a battleground, and I was the one people were coming after to express their “concerns.”
It’s been a shitty few months too. And the one thing I had that I felt as if it could pull me out of the little whole I was stuck in, became the thing that gave me the most anxiety and stress ever.
I would have conversations with my mom about venues, or money, or something rude someone at work said to me about my engagement ring, and these big, slow, tears would roll quietly down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. They just would come without ceasing. And I’ve always thought silent tears are worse than sobbing hysterically, because when you’re not making any noise, you can get by without people noticing your pain. Silent killers.
I guess one thing I’ve taken away is this: Opinions are like assholes; everyone has one.
I Can’t Bear the Weight
There’s this song I love, and the lyrics go like this:
So pick yourself up kid
I can't bear the weight
Let the light back in
'Cause you've been walkin' blind
Now it's all on you
Don't you let it fade
Before your time goes
I’ve been listening to this one a lot lately. The Head and the Heart go hard with their lyrics. But this is the verse that hits me so hard.
I can’t bear the weight.
Not only have I felt crappy lately as a whole, but I feel like I’ve been a crappy friend. I have this irrational fear that everyone in my life secretly hates my guts, and they just put up with me because they have to. They don’t actually like me, they don’t actually care about me, they don’t actually want to be around me.
Who would want to be around me, honestly?
Sometimes the things I say, or the way I laugh, or the jokes I make, leave me physically disgusted with myself.
Why did I say that?
That was so lame.
Just don’t say anything anymore.
It’s a constant battle with myself because in my mind, like I stated, no one actually wants to be around me.
And I stress myself out to the point that I can’t sleep again, and I lose my appetite, and someone at church will say “Skylar, you look like you’ve lost weight. You look really skinny.” And then I get short. And cold. And emotional. Because there’s nothing in me that wants to take care of myself.
It’s so depressing how it works.
It’s so unbelievably sickening that I’m typing this out for the world to see if they want. If they choose to. If they feel like reading the most depressing entry I’ll probably ever post on here.
It’s pathetic, really.
And truly, I’m struggling to bear the weight of it all. And I can’t pick myself up right now, no matter how hard I try. Life has felt like one thing after another, after another, and right when I think I’m about to catch my breath, I get kicked down again.
Like a never-ending cycle of abuse.
So the truth: I’ve been better. I’ve been a lot better. I want to have an extended period of time where happiness doesn’t feel so temporary. I can feel it, but it never sticks around for too long. It’s fleeting.
But to end this in a way that makes you all more comfortable:
“How are you doing?”
“I’m doing good. I’m planning a wedding, I’ve got a lot on my schedule to look forward to, and I’ve got a couple trips planned, and yeah, I’m actually doing great. The best I’ve ever been. How about you?”