cloudy days (metaphorically and literally)

Recently I’ve been working on a few blog posts, writing about all things to do with that good ol’ self-empowerment type jazz – from battling self-doubt to solo-travelling. But it hasn’t felt like the right time to post any of them. And there’s a few reasons for that which I guess I’ve been avoiding, but now want to talk about. After all, if I can’t be honest in this little corner of the internet that I own then when can I be ay? (Plus, I am paying for this little corner, so might as well get my money’s worth, right?)

Sometimes it feels like people, particularly in the blogging sphere, discuss depression from a place of distance. Something they did associate with, but are now presenting to you with an armed list of 10 ways to beat it. Or ‘yeah depression sucks, but using X, Y, and Z, here is how I’m not going to let it win’ pasted on some floral background and tagged with #goodvibesonly. Perhaps that’s a gross oversimplification, but I just feel like there needs to be more transparency with these issues, because sugar-coating can feel so mind-numbingly repetitive at times, regardless of helpful intentions. Or maybe I am just too eager to understand the depths of who people really say they are, beyond all of the false pretense and armour, but still.

So, I guess I’m writing to just release all of these jumbled thoughts which seem to be constantly looping around in my head right now. I’m not offering a solution, nor any words of hope or encouragement. I’m just writing from a place that is authentic and raw in this current moment. And, since I’m as open as open books can be, I thought why not do a full on yolo and just release it into the endless void that is the internet. Therefore, this post isn’t really for anyone else but myself, and perhaps another odd lost soul who is also fumbling their way through this thing called life, and too feels like they’re reaching out blindly in the dark.

So, here is how I’m feeling:

For the past few months, I have felt like lethargy personified. All I want to do is stay in bed, not use any brain power, and mindlessly surrender myself to countless movies and YouTube videos. I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I’m finding that even simple communication with others is sucking life from me. So I deal with this by retreating inwards, confining myself to my bedroom and guarding myself from the outside world under a fort of blankets and junk food.

The days are beginning to get progressively more draining, and I’m finding it harder and harder to do things that are good for me, e.g: running, university work. Even getting out of bed is exhausting. It feels like I’m being followed by a heavy fog, and I’m lacking the strength to push it away. It’s like I’m stuck in limbo – I don’t feel sad enough to cry, but I don’t feel happy enough to be productive, or even do anything at all. I’m just stuck at this very isolated place in between where I don’t really feel anything at all. Simply tired and melancholy.

Colours seem to be seeping away from the sky, in both metaphorical and literal terms. I recently wrote a poem about this exact feeling – how life feels very grey. I have never been a winter person, as anyone who has spoken to me knows, and this weather seems to be exacerbating the dullness that is tugging at my bones. All I want is for the healing sun on my skin, just long enough to remind me how grass feels beneath my fingers, and how even walking out of the door is made a lighter task. I hate waking up and feeling cold. I hate needing to wrap my arms around myself to keep in the warmth, when my arms feel like anchors and the cold wind seems to bite me from every direction anyway. I get so sad when I think about not getting the job offers that I want abroad, as I don’t think I have it in me to survive another UK winter (I say winter, but realistically even summer here is a load of shit, and I don’t know if I am strong enough to handle one more of those either). This period of my life is full of uncertainty and waiting. Being the impatient soul I am, it’s clear how this combined with the grim weather is probably one of the biggest impediments to my wellbeing. For now, I am dreaming of sunnier days. I know they will come, but it’s not knowing when which is most agonising.

Everything is a chore, and my to-do list is neverending. I want to graduate with a 1st, but I’m falling behind so drastically, and I can now no longer keep up. I wish all my responsibilities would just leave me alone, and give me some breathing space. I make it worse for myself by procrastinating, but I find it easier to seek respite from the comforts of ignorance than from actually getting my shit together. Self-sabotage, laziness, perfectionism – whatever you want to call it, it’s unhelpful and it’s genuinely damaging. I can’t seem to find a way out of the cycle.

Hating what I see in the mirror everyday never gets easier, and looking at how much my surgery is going to cost makes me light-headed. It feels surreal to be planning to go ahead with it, but also sad. Sad that something so fleeting, so superficial and so meaningless has such a strong hold on my life. It feels like I cannot truly start living until I am free from the burdens that are the flaws on my face, but surgery poses risks in itself, so what do I do if that all goes wrong? I might be uglier, and thousands of pounds poorer. It’s a lot to process. Plus all the other health issues I’m experiencing at the moment are feeding into my feelings of inadequacy, and total lack of self worth. But I won’t go into those.

To be honest, I don’t even have the energy to carry on writing. I think the gist of this is clear.

Life is just a longting, I’m desperate for university to be over now, all I want to do is know if I’ve been offered this job, and for the love of God can the UK please get some sunshine and warm weather soon?



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