New Year, but I was Already a New Me

I've already fixed a few "16's" on dates, but the new year is only a few days in. Sometimes the mistakes I make can be corrected, but their so obviously scribbled over, and there's no way to hide them. I saved my reflection post or blog entry for today, but not today specifically. Most people, when they look at me, will still see the me they believe I am. For those who don't know more of who I am, but think they do, I've left them in the dark for reasons. Don't worry. I won't keep being so vague. Oh, that promise is for this post, not in general. I don't think my preference of ambiguity will truly go away, but I won't say "never" because I didn't think I'd be functioning the way I am at all. I mean that literally. I never imagined I'd be who I am on the inside.

Nostalgia is a problem. Seriously, it doesn't really help me to look back at old photos so often, but at the same time I truly love those memories. I am glad I pushed myself through some of those memories, and I am glad I didn't photograph the shit out of some of them so I could hold them preciously just in my mind and heart. I don't know where I'll be in a month, but when I landed here just a few months ago, it was a slow process that seemed so suddenly just because my depression took away my emotions. Maybe I should just say my mind did it. I know others have been through worse trauma, but the last year and a half were very hard. I won't say that last year was a terrible year because I became a better me. I know that different people I know would say, if they knew where I am at in my head, that I am not a better me. I don't care. The Hannah that exists today, right now, in 2017, is the strongest, bravest, and realest Hannah there's ever been. The other Hannahs didn't make it to this year. I did.

Sometimes I think about my past selves as different people. In reality, they're all different versions of me, but they don't seem like me anymore. One reason I like looking at pictures, or reading old entries, and old poems, is because I want to see who I was. I'd send my voice back in time to other me's and tell them we made it, and we're okay. I am so sorry to past me for being a bully and hurting myself, and not trying to see what potential I had. I won't wish to go back because I don't want to. I'd be tempted to change something, and I know I shouldn't. The parts of me that are dead and gone should just stay that way now. If God exists, he can change that if he cares. But I've been the one to get myself through everything I've faced. I chose my path that led me to others who have helped me.

I didn't write this on my resolutions list for this year, but I know I want to be more real with people. The hardest confession will be that I don't trust God anymore. I believe he exists. Well, I believe a higher being exists, definitely. But I don't trust in the God that I was told I had to. I have a lot of anger and hurt in that area, and I know I need to face it. I want space to face it. I want to be upfront with my family and tell them that their faith isn't for me right now, and that I need to learn this and find God on my own. I don't want preaching at me, I don't want discipleship, and I don't need condemnation. I just need space. I want to breathe and learn things on my own. I've already pursued that before, by studying the bible and discussing it with close friends, and reading books by theologians. It's not like God wasn't working for me and I said, see ya I want benefits. No. God is supposed to send us his spirit, and he went cold, and hid himself from me. If I ever really felt God anyway. I'm tired of being told all these rules and ways to live that are truly preference of my family, but they've engrained it into their brains that it is "of the bible" because it's their prefered translation.

Forgive me. I don't mean to sound hateful and angry at them. I do have hurts there, but I just want freedom from this binding belief system. They say you find freedom in Christ, but I found let down and chains. I have a mental disease partly because of this belief system. I want my own. I don't know what it will look like, but I want the space to decide that. Part of this is also because I just want to dress how I want to dress, I want to date who I date, I want to write what I write, and I want to find a God that actually cares about me, that I don't have to convince myself I'm experiencing. I won't ask for anything huge, but Jesus, if you want me, come to me. That's all I have to say about it.

This change, my thoughts on beliefs and religion and myself, has been gradual and not sudden. But I think it slowly creeped up on me that once it was here, it took me by surprise. But I am free. I am free and I can still be real, and honest, and be love. I will thrive because I am deciding that is who I will become. My determination pushes me forward, and I haven't left myself room to give up. My thoughts change, and I don't let my emotions control everything. I still have depression and I still have anxiety, but I realized that, and it cannot blindside me again. 

Sour

When I started writing this post, I had about one full paragraph, but then somehow it was backspaced and deleted. So, I'm starting from scratch again. Honestly, that's sometimes how it looks daily; I am starting over again and again. 2016 has been a very strange year for those of us around me, and I'm not sure what to even begin writing down as hopes for next year. I don't want to stop pursuing the goals and hopes I noted back in December 2015. These are things that make sense, and some are ones that I should never stop doing or pursuing. I want to continue this growth, but I know that where I am at right now is far from where I was when I originally wrote that list. It seems like we often look back on our past self and think, "You silly thing. You knew nothing." But how funny is it that 2015 me said the same thing about 2014 me, and so on and so forth? This changing and reshaping evolution never ends, and damn, I am thankful. The tension of expansion and growth is hurtful and achy, but it is necessary.

This intense season of depression I am emerging from caused a huge part of me to die and get left behind. I read from a Huntington Post article that each time deep depression occurs, a part of us dies: a good part or a bad part. We lose something. I lost much of my normal way of processing and dealing with anything. I used to lead with my feelings and "heart." Because my feelings switched off for a long while, I had to cope with my brain. Using logic, sense, critical examination, and reason to figure out myself, my place, my mental disorder, and how to fight through the lack of energy and lack of emotion was so contrary to my normal function. Now I coming through as a person with less "feeling" tendencies and more "thinking" tendencies. How can depression completely reshape how someone processes life? Is that possible? Or have I been pushed so far over the edge that the only way to progress was to stop feeling and start thinking? I hate limbo and tension, but that is what I live in. How can someone be conscious of something being nonsensical and just being OKAY with that.

What remains on the surface of my thoughts is that my questions and uncertainty will never be satisfied and that the next person will tell me that I just have to "live with it." I don't want to live with it, I'm angry that I let religion and faith dictate my whole life when all it seems to be is a feeling and something I convince my brain that I am experiencing. There is no proof that providence exists, that miracles aren't accidents, and that there is life after death. We see what we want to see. We believe what we want to believe. We create images and ideas and feelings with our brains. How can we trust that all of this we are "processing" or accepting isn't just our brain playing tricks on us? How do I know that my brain isn't screwing with me right now? I have a mental disorder, a chemical imbalance! How can I trust my brain AT ALL? Religion is a feel good, afterlife guarantee dream that people have told stories about from generation to generation so they believe that everything happens for a reason, and so they can feel better about themselves. There are tests done that show people who think more positively are more likely to experience positive things than those who do not, or those who think more logically/realistically.

I don't know what to believe because every angle seems to take nonsensical faith. I want to believe many of the things I was forced to learn as a child - I had no options. Maybe if the people around me taught me in ways that weren't so damaging and forceful and as if there is no other religion that could possibly make sense, maybe I'd be able to say, "Yeah, I accept that I am deciding this is truth and this is real." But no. They taught me to be adamant that I AM RIGHT about which religion is the "only true religion", that the bible is infallible, and that if you don't agree with everything in it, you aren't and can't be a Christian. I've seen people abuse their positions, abuse their loved ones, and fake their way to top leadership, and screw everyone else. I've seem pornography and rape culture be dismissed, women be treated like after thoughts or property or THE PROBLEM, children oppressed and misused, and men never take responsibility.

 I am sick of being told I'm vile or wicked or sinful or worthless without a god. I'm sick of being told to love myself while being told to surrender myself and die to myself. These cliches mean nothing coming from the lips of those who are merely restating words they don't even feel or mean. I don't know what to believe. I want to be kind, good, loving, understanding, faithful, hopeful, real.. because that is who I should be, not because Jesus tells me to be or because I'll get into heaven if I believe in Jesus, not because I'll fucking get anything in return. But because THIS is who I should be, without reward of an afterlife. People don't question their faith because they don't want to risk not going to heaven, and that is stupid. I can't just "choose" Jesus because I don't want to risk not going to heaven. I want to be real, I want my love or faith to be because I am convinced of this person being worthy of faith, and trust, not because I gain anything. And don't tell me that is what you're doing, too. No. You're scared of being wrong and dying forever. I've been self-righteous for too long, and I want to walk away from that. I just want answers and experiences, beyond feelings and beyond critical thinking. 

Depression is a Quiet Darkness

The more I learn from school or pleasure reading, or podcast listening, or conversations with professors, the more my mind expands. I appreciate the ways that my education has pushed me to expand in ways I never would have imagined. I try to adapt my language and word usage to the communication style I've been taught is most effective or appropriate. My writing styles have developed, changed, bettered, and are enriched with stronger, more descriptive words. I didn't used to think I needed to learn how to express myself better, but now that I have been taught ways to write that I never knew existed, my options are unlimited. The only thing that seems limiting is me. No, I meant to use the word in that way. I am limiting, limiting my potential, my possibilities, and my drive. How am I doing that? I will try to explain.

I don't know how to ask for help, nor do I truly believe that it is acceptable for me to do so. I continually am told by friends or family that asking for help isn't a sign of weakness. However, they are telling me this while they are on the sidelines, and not asking anyone for help in that moment. I'm the youngest of four children, raised in a family where I thought asking for help was a sign of weakness. I thought that if I didn't look like I had it figured out, like I was okay on the inside, that I wasn't going to be loved or accepted, understood or cared for, listened to or validated. No, my parents didn't do or say things that made me think this way in particular. The only thing my parents did was cause me to be in an atmosphere where I connected with people who led me to think this way. I have a hard time asking for help because I thought I would fail either way, and I would just be embarrassed further. I thought that my parents would be more proud if I somehow magically had my shit together without needing them, needing anyone, and by me responding with the right answers. I hate telling anyone that I'm a mess because I grew up thinking I needed to hide the sadness, the emotional turmoil, the helplessness, the disconnect, and the depression I've had since I was a kid. 

Why am I exposing myself to you now? The more I learn, the more I see how necessary it is to contribute my thoughts to the giant mess of networking that exists out there. In all the negative messages that occur on your newsfeed, here is my message with a snippet of my story. This is so that maybe the belief I deeply hold that my purpose in life to connect with others in a deep way can still actually happen despite the fact that I am severely depressed and have little to no drive to keep any connection with anyone whatsoever. For those who don't understand this type of depression or depression in general, it isn't being sad or grumpy or pessimistic. There is no root cause or pinpoint problem when I talk about depression; it is a complete imbalance in my brain. Yes, it is a real thing and I'm not asking for prayers, thoughts, or attention to ME on this. What I want to narrow in on is that there is still no excuse for me to ever give up, even when every part of my being is wrestling against itself, limiting itself, and telling itself to shut down and stay in bed. 

I'm not asking for help, especially since I've never been good at doing so. As I continue to study communications, I see how necessary it is to continue to connect with people, even when my brain tells me it doesn't matter anymore. I see how necessary it is to mimic the appropriate nonverbal expressions or use similar language or facial expressions as my friends even when my emotions are numb and my interest is nonexistent. Who I am to my core still exists despite how far away my body and brain seem to be from each other. Who I am still exists despite my uncertainty of everything I've thought, believed, or hoped, or trusted. I am limiting myself when I think I can't ask for help, I am limiting myself if I stop reaching out to friends even when my brain tells me I don't care anymore, I am limiting myself if I choose to stay in bed and hide, and I don't want to limit myself anymore. 

The reason I haven't posted anything in a long time is because I didn't know exactly how to describe where my mind has been the last few months. I daily am accepting each state of mind I am in, and learning to take care of myself as I learn more of who I am in this depression. If I haven't responded to you, if I haven't reached out, if I haven't tried to see you or do what I normally would in our friendship/relationship, I am sorry. I truly haven't been my full self for a while, and I am seeking out guidance and healing through it. I am not crying out for help or support or words of encouragement because honestly your words probably won't be received as well as you mean them, mostly because I cannot process things as I normally do - my brain is overworking itself. The most important thing I have been learning in all of this is that I still have to be real with people and be real with myself. I refuse to lie about or hide who I am, what I am facing, and what I think. 

My life motto is as follows: Be brave, be free, be love, and be real.

Despite what I feel or don't feel, because it seems like my feelings have been switched off, I am completely pursuing to represent my motto, whether my brain tells me I want to or not. Instead of just sending prayers or thoughts up for me, DO something. Seek out how you can be brave, be free, be love, and be real with the world around you. Seek out ways to stop limiting yourself, and pursue your potential. Seek to make yourself expand because you shouldn't use any excuses, just as I shouldn't.

If you have had similar experiences, or are having similar experiences as I am, don't be afraid to reach out to me. If you want to talk to me about what depression is and what's going on with me, I don't mind and please reach out to me. If you have any questions or thoughts, or if you want to encourage me, I am not opposed to that at all, just know the point of this wasn't to make anyone pity me or feel sorry for me. 

Notions of No Emotions

The desire to journal or blog or write about my thoughts and state of being right now have been so far away from my mind. When the idea of writing did come to mind, it was initially redirected to "what's due" and "will this count for my poetry practicum?" To be honest, no one reads this, except future me. (Hi, Hannah. Yes, you are a retard talking to your future self. And future self, you're probably smiling. Stop that. Okay, don't.)

I want to say so many things, but I realized something new about myself, or what my interpersonal comm class will define as "blind self." There are so many things buried within my head and heart and soul, and I'm blind to it. Others might be able to see it, or maybe not. I am not always capable of putting it all into words. Words diminish the value of moments and feelings. I wish someone could touch me and I suddenly felt what they meant, and not just heard words describing what they mean. I wish I could blame all this hollowness and emptiness and blank state on depression, but part of me wonders if I drove myself to this. Did I push myself to the limit and now I can't feel anymore? Am I a walking sociopath who mimics everyone else to seem normal? Have I forsaken true emotions? Will nothing touch my heart positively anymore?

I try not to make the first paragraph so heavy, but just as a normal introductory like an essay is supposed to be. Blogs aren't exactly essays, are they? I've been writing too many research papers and not enough journal entries. I'm not quite sure where I lost that desire. I want to document this year, my damn senior year of undergrad. But I hate this year. I don't feel detached, I am detached. I don't feel anything. When I feel something, it is so slightly and it fades quickly. It's like taking one bite of dinner and swallowing, and that's it. The feeling and the taste is over, digested, and gone. Well, I still can feel sadness, but part of me wonders if that's really sadness I feel or sadness is where I am at. My actions aren't that of a depressed person, per say. I push myself and try very hard to still do all the things I normally would do, but I'm suffocating when I do try. Everything is hallow, shallow, seems pointless, meaningless, and nothing really means much to me anymore. Excitement, arousal, happiness, entertainment... These are rarities and short occurrences. I think I broke myself. To be honest, future Hannah, because no one else is reading this, I am completely uncertain of nearly everything. My counselor told me we can work together to sort through all this. Who else can I truly talk to? God? I'm not really certain about him right now either.

I don't lack confidence or self assurance for the most part. Hurt and this heartache and these scars just won't go away, and I think my insides are gutted out, and there is no room for anything but shadow and fog. I have been aiming to reconstruct my mind and how it processes things, or deals with things. My natural way of processing is to lead with my heart, my emotions, and not with my head. Because of my stress and business, I've pushed that to the side and been forcing myself to be logical. I kissed someone I don't even like just to see if I'd feel anything negative or positive. All I felt was the fact that his lips put pressure on mine, and it was just happening. There was no disgust and no tension and no chemistry. Future Hannah, you might be saying now, well Hannah I never liked that guy and I wasn't that attracted to him, so no kidding. Damn, Hannah I hope we are at that point when you read this again. I hope you don't remember the details of how much it aches that I want to feel something intensely good again. I'd say it feels like this, but again, I can't truly feel anything. 

My Scarecrow Dreams

Why am I so opposed to saying I'm happy? Why have I let this heaviness linger on me for so long that I feel guilt for feeling good? I might not be the epitome of a 'glutton for punishment,' but I definitely qualify for that faction of people. I believe my state of mind has been hurting itself for years, and I have been reaching for an upward hand to pull me out of this place. I could stare in the mirror for minutes to maybe hours, eventually seeing my face change. I have shaped my opinion of myself through so much negativity, instead of what I know is true about me. I know in my heart that I define and create who I am, but my head gets so caught up on the idea that I am defined by what others do to me. I lay down and only have homework to stress over, yet I feel this heavy guilt that I should be worrying over more. Why are there so many gray clouds hanging over me when it's 'sunny with a high of 75?'

Is joy a state of being? Is happiness more than a feeling? I find fulfillment when I let go, take off my restraints, and run on incline as fast as I can. Anger doesn't take root in my heart like it used to, and bitterness is becoming a distant friend. Darkness comes to me every night, as if to ask, "Hey, aren't you still gonna let me in?" How can I see through this stained glass when it's become like contacts in my eyes? The world is tainted by my vision; my mind's eye isn't 20/20. It's not that I can't connect with the world around me, it's just I never knew it was okay before.

Who is truly quick to diagnose herself with mental illness or other health issues? I don't desire to have problems that need fixed. It amazes me to watch the reactions of others when I describe the way my mind works - it ravages itself. Some say the heaviness or disinterest I have is due to growing up, but have I been a "grown up" for the last 14 years? I've been called an old soul before. Do old souls experience a never ending ache of sadness that feels like how a low hum sounds? Do all of our brains tell our hearts to feel shame for not feeling sadness for one night? Does anyone else repeat the words "I'm fine" again and again because they don't really believe it? I read that "thoughts become things," and that if I keep being so cynical, life will always be dim. How do I rewire my brain when I had no dictation for my own makeup?

My heart is searching for peace and freedom. One day, I hope my brain will quiet down and let itself be at ease. There are moments of joy, happiness, highs, peace, and freedoms. I long to shape my mind and belief around those moments, and remember that they last forever, because they really do. I know that shame is a passing thing, and depression will one day fade away. Maybe I must start repeating to myself, "Life is beautiful despite the shadows," I will feel that and think that. I can heal.

Come Now Illusive Side

Dreams are so weird. The details slowly shift and we don't question why we started out searching for one thing, grabbing another, and walking away with the thing we didn't even grab. We get dropped off in the middle of what is happening, get a vague idea of what we are doing on our journey during the dream, and we don't question it's strangeness. Of course, we don't question til we wake up and realize it was a vivid, yet confusing dream. What I believe to be the real world isn't quite the same because I question so much, and cannot function well if things don't have a good step-by-step process to explain how I do things. This isn't the case for everything, but I am also the person who will drive past the new location I'm going to - like 6 times - before parking because I'm anxious to go to the door and it be the wrong door, and I don't know where to park properly... It's weird. I could not live life as if it were a dream.

So, why do I base my romantic desires off someone I saw in several dreams? If I couldn't truly live how I need in a dream like state, why do I hold onto this idea that "the knight in red" is someone I should be waiting on? Dreams leave off details, or they drastically change them, and leave us sort of looking down at our hands, thinking what was I first doing in this? I shouldn't chase down what's unclear or uncertain, yet I do it anyway. And it isn't like what I've found myself chasing down has even been good enough to compare to my strange dreams. I think if we want to believe a dream is sort of like a desire or a wish, then those weird images our brains project when we sleep shouldn't be called dreams. They're like mind video games - except video games generally give you some directions.

I decided a long time ago that I hate dreams. I used to fall asleep and have terrifying nightmares, and they got so bad for a long time that I could barely get myself to sleep. But now, even "pleasant" dreams hurt. They might conjure up past feelings that I thought I had walked away from, and then the next few days are heavy and I'm left with feeling emotionally involved in something that was (sometimes long) gone. It might be strange that I am venting about dreams, but I had one last night and I wish I hadn't. I don't want hopeless hopes creeping back into my system based off dreams that aren't reflections of reality. I've already fallen into a deep depression, and it has disguised itself to not look like what I've become used to it being.

There isn't a deeper point for me to hammer on at this point. I could go on, go deeper, and stir up more emotions. For now, I will end my thoughts at just existing. I need to sometimes just let myself exist, and experience things for what they are in the moment. Sometimes I put too much weight on things that I need to just let the pressure off myself. Here's to breathing a little easier, because I don't need to think too much on the dreams I had last night.

Perhaps When the Day Is New

What happens to a writer when words just seem to fail? There's nothing to do, but sit and try to form complete thoughts. There is a heaviness on my chest, on my skin, and binding me to this place, where I don't believe I look up again and find kind eyes and a true heart. These doubts and past images start playing back into my mind, as if the memories are clear anymore. They are memories, and the more I re-think them, they become less real and more a reflection of a remembered memory. My own memories deceive me as they shift with every time I replay them. When I play those games in my head, I'm causing more destruction and ill than good and reconstruction.

I check myself. I reflect. Growth and development have been taking years, and every year I can look at how far I've come. Others around me see the difference, and that shows me I'm not just imagining it. Sometimes I wonder at how I can even keep going or how I have kept going. The days haven't gotten easier; I think sometimes I'm numb to what has happened. It isn't healthy to constantly dwell on the past events, but it isn't easy to completely give it up all at once. When I mull over things, I rediscover parts I didn't see as clearly before. Many times I just find more blame to fill my head with, and more regret to weigh my heart down with. It's when I believe I've found relief that a storm comes again.

Am I always prepared for the storm to hit? Someone once said that it's when we are happy and in a good place that the storm hurts us the most. A year ago, I was much lighter than I am now - finally. I had been drawn to this place where I finally felt the freedom I've been given. And now, this constant heaviness lingers on my skin, and I cannot push it off. I've spent the last nine months making excuses for some foolish choices of mine because of severe hurt and pain I, shockingly, faced. Now the demons are pounding on my door, trying to pry it down, and destroy the walls I have rebuilt. It isn't like my protection looks very high from where I stand, but I recognize that I cannot see what is invisible.

Kindness is free. The truth sets you free. Forgiveness isn't free. I don't want it to be that I find contentment from being "fulfilled" in a dream-like relationship. My heart's deepest desire is spiritual fulfillment and strength. If I just didn't have the other desires, I would feel much more confident and less distracted. My hurt and pain, the damage others have caused, distracts me and ravages my heart. I don't want to only find fullness and peace when I'm "good," but honestly I was single, and not with recent heartache when I was in such a good spot. But I guess that's where the quote really does mean something. I had pursued a stronger spiritual relationship with Jesus Christ, and was finding such confidence in that comfortable place. I was unprepared. I was unaware.

I made a stupid promise that I could deal with whatever He chose to give me... or not give me. And when I ask for peace from God, I guess we tend to think he will magically make us feel better. I am to have peace no matter what I deal with or face. Peace doesn't make sense. Jesus gives peace that "surpasses all understanding." Basically, the peace I can get from the Lord doesn't make sense, it isn't easy to explain, and it isn't this simple good feeling. That is a frustrating fact, but it is also very relieving because then I know it is something so deeply pure, and real, that I don't need to be afraid of it just being an emotion. (I only say stupid promise because God tests out if I'll keep that promise, and he'll try me on it, and see if I'll come through. It won't be how I perceive it, and that's the trick of my decision to promise it. I can't just expect no challenges.)

I'm fighting to keep it together. I'm trying to push myself just to get out of bed, some days. The cloud hangs over me so often, and it makes waking up feel like a mistake sometimes. My security and safety comes from the Lord, and I will not find that in anyone else. From my experience, lovers are cowards and they only want what they want. Any others who were more stable, apparently I couldn't feel settled within about them - and that is the thing that I mull over and I really should just shut my thoughts down when they surface.

I'm trying to realign myself.
Everything hurts.
People overwhelm me.
I'm really fine with being alone, I just wouldn't mind if the desire for otherwise would go away.