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Mental Mentality

~ Jessi ~ 2 Comments

I realize that I contemplate insanity a lot. Mostly because I feel like I’m on the verge of it a lot. I know that a large portion of people say the same thing, but I really do mean it. Some moments I feel like I’m seconds away from beginning to talk to the posters on my wall. I also realize that I’ve written about insanity before, but it’s a very relative subject. When every part of your life is hard, isn’t it realistic that sometimes you feel like you need to be placed in some mental institution? I think to myself, “maybe things would be easier if I was locked away…..and heavily medicated. Maybe I wouldn’t care about things being hard, and therefore my stress level would drop an awful lot. Maybe I wouldn’t care about doing as many things, and therefore I wouldn’t do them, which would eliminate any struggle. Maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t think so fucking much, which would be a very beautiful thing.”
None of that is logical though. None of that is real. My reality is struggle. It always has been, and it always will be. The true challenge isn’t the struggle itself. The true challenge is finding a way to come to terms with it, to accept, to completely embrace it. I’ll get there one day.

Side Note: if you are wondering what prompted this explosion of thought, I will tell you. It took me an hour to get ready for bed tonight.  I’ve been told that I shouldn’t compare myself to “normal” people, but that’s easier said than done sometimes.

It’s Been Awhile

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You used to take every chance to say I love you
Now all I hear is silence
I hope there’s a message in this bottle
Saying it’s okay to end like this
But you know bad habits were never my friends

You are gone
But you’re still breathing
It’s been awhile
Yet I’m still grieving
Nothing makes sense
Why the hell am I still bleeding?

I wonder if I cross you mind
Like you cross mine
The flower you once made grow there
Are covered in thorns or decayed
But their roots still stretch everywhere

Long gone are the nights we stayed up
Sharing secrets like they were gold
Always reminding each other we’d be okay
We’d be sharing our bed made for two someday

You are gone
But you’re still breathing
It’s been awhile
Yet I’m still grieving
Nothing makes sense
Why the hell am I still bleeding?

The universe brought us together
The distance broke us apart
I’m sorry I wasn’t closer
I’m sorry you were so far
(I’ll always love you)

©Jessi Wilson

Believe It To See It?

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I remember even as a kid I thought too much. I used to wonder if what I saw in the mirror was really what I looked like. or if my cp affected how I viewed myself and no one had the heart to tell me. That’s a weird thing for a child to think, which is probably why I never told anyone. I’m curious about that theory again.

My self-image has been so pore lately. I pick myself apart like buzzards do with prey. Is my mind a predator, and I’m the prey? As I just had that epiphany, I realize how utterly messed-up it is. Your mind is everything. If its against you, then what?

I went and had some photos taken today because my parents wanted “senior pictures”. The photographer is a friend so she thought it’d be cool for us to do them in front of the graffiti walls downtown. I had anxiety, which is nothing new. She kept on showing me pictures as we went. She kept on telling how “gorgeous’’ I was. I DON’T UNDERSTAND. I don’t understand how everyone else can see such beauty, and I see such…such flaws. I speak, I believe that differences make you even more beautiful. Why can’t I seem to believe that about myself? How am I supposed to make people view me as being perfect the way that I am, if I can’t even make myself?

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Hangry (literally)

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When you are hungry and you open your fridge and everything you want, you can’t get without help because your hands aren’t steady enough. You just sit there, staring at the food that you can’t get, thinking how much you don’t want ask for help. You know that you should feel grateful that at least you can do what you can,…..but you don’t. You just feel angry.

I call this my Itty Bitty Shitty Committee.

Graduating

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All these actions are leading up to this one accomplishment, this one moment. You’ve worked so hard to get here. You’ve been through so much; won a lot of battles, lost a lot of battles. The moment is finally here, and you look around, and wonder, “is this it?”
I graduated high school the Saturday before last. I stopped physically going halfway through my sophomore year because of depression and how toxic my school was. I’ve been using their online program. I’ve been looking forward to finishing since I started. Then…there I was…finished, and I started to think about what I have to show for the past four years. I have bottles of depression medication and a paper hanging on my fridge telling me my high GPA and class rank. No friends, no homecoming or prom pictures, no after school clubs. Some people weren’t made for high school, I was one of them. Feeling empty when everyone is congratulating you and are happy for you, is a very lonely feeling,
I have hope that college will be better than high school.

Raindrop Memories

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imageThe sky turned gray, and rain began to pour down. It felt as if the universe was crying. The earth would usually breathe when it would get water, but right now….it felt like it was suffocating. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was this crowded plane. Maybe it was the fact that I was returning to a place full of memories. It’s a pathetic piece of irony that the worst things are always the ones that stick out in your mind. Looking out my window, the rain drops ran down the glass faster as the plane started to move. I closed my eyes and wished I could leave my thoughts behind me like I soon would the rain.

Leaky Faucet

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“Don’t let others control your mood or happiness.” That’s what my therapist tells me. Well,…..that’s easier said then done. I’ve been hurt a lot in general. I’ve been hurt a lot by people who supposedly cared about me. So when a guy who I met and hung out with this summer, and who told me he loved me,……dropped me like I was nothing, I was done. He didn’t break my heart. I wasn’t very invested in him. It did sting a lot. Pored salt in every wound of insecurity. Maybe I’ll talk about that experience in another post. Anyway, after that, I didn’t want to get to know anyone new, especially not a guy. Life had other plans though. This guy engaged me on Instagram in November. Part of me didn’t want to respond, but I did. We started texting everyday. It was nice to have someone easy to talk to. He ended up living five hours from our second home. I met him on New Year’s Day and spent time with him. When you have physical struggles, it can be terrifying to put yourself out there. “What if he thinks I’m broken? What if he hates actually seeing me in my wheelchair? What if he hates the difference in my speech?” These were all in my head, but I didn’t want to let fear hold me back. So I took that leap. It was so easy being around him. Normally, it takes me awhile to get vocally comfortable with someone. It took no time with him. He helped me when I needed it. Just simple. He told me he’d come back when I’m there in February.
I haven’t talked to him in a week and a half. My mind goes to the dark side. I don’t know what’s wrong. Not knowing is the worst part. Insecurities are leaking out everywhere. I feel like a leaky faucet.

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

~ Jessi ~ 1 Comment

There once was a girl,…actually two, but especially one. They hated each other so much. The one couldn’t stand looking at the other. Every time they saw each other, they both got this despising frown on their face. Like it actually caused them pain to see each other. So far, this story isn’t very unique. There are a lot of girls who hate each other, but there’s a twist. It turns out there was never actually two girls, just one…

Updating

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I’ve written a few things over the last couple months that I haven’t posted. I’m going to post them now. I sort of suck at this blog thing, but I’m trying. I’m on vacation this week so maybe I’ll post a lot.

Speech

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I’m hyper focused on my speech lately and it’s killing me. I laid in bed all night having terrible anxiety about going to see a movie with a girl I’ve never met today. It’s as if my chest is caving in on itself, and I’m at a point where I don’t know where to turn. I want to crawl out of my skin so badly and run. I also desperately want to not care what I sound like. You’d think being able to talk fine would be enough for your mind….but no. It wants me to talk perfect.