My 2018 Rants About Death VS My 2023 Thoughts About Death

Recently, I scrolled down to my old posts on this blog from 2018 and honestly not much has changed. The only difference is that I finished my residency, was forced into going to Italy for a 2nd time (yet It was a positive experience in contrast to the 2017 trip) and was forced to go to evening school under the guise of doing something with my life.

What hasn’t changed is the suicidal thoughts and my lack of finding a job. I have switched work sectors I’m looking in and honestly, I still have hope.

Yet, the thoughts about death, the desire to kill myself and even fantasizing about it some days have gotten worse. But 2023 me can wholeheartedly relate to 2018 me’s writings and it’s truly concerning and saddenning.

My relationship with my parents, Aunt Elena and even my sister has gotten better-ish…I don’t hang out so much with Aunt Elena anymore because my sister is always with her and I don’t want to intrude. Also, my sister and I are close but she recently made a complaint about how we don’t do stuff together anymore and I started to try to make time for that.

Depression and anxiety have gotten worse since 2018 and the state of the world overall has become unbearable so it’s sort of understanding and expected. Yet the desire to end my life because my dreams and hopes are gone is still there and getting much more desirable in the coming weeks. But it’s true what they say, hope does die last. And mine hasn’t died yet.

I might be delusional by now but I still have hope that in the future or some version of the future, the gone dreams I have might become reality. Even though I want to die I also want to see if I do manage to make the dreams little me had a form of reality.

Anxiety reacquainted

I suffered from anxiety since I was 12 years old but it seems in the late months of 2022 I was reacquainted with anxiety.

I used to be able to mask or bury my anxiety, I don’t know which is true, but I was able to control it to a level. Now, anxiety controls me! And it’s for a stupid reason to most people.

Losing my routine. That’s the thing causing my anxiety to spike. And getting my first job.

I spoke to a few people and shared my anxieties with them and all acted as if my anxiety and fear of my first job was unnecessary. Although, I have a feeling that these people didn’t have the time or luxury to feel anxiety or didn’t feel it just as intensely or at least didn’t realize it was anxiety.

I know it’s normal to feel A LEVEL OF ANXIETY for your first job but not the paralyzing one I get. Also, I have been looking for a job since 2018 and I have gone to a few interviews but I have sent far too many CVs (I don’t know the number or can recall) that I have convinced myself I would never get a job.

Furthermore, I went on a trial day at a restaurant’s kitchen and I realized that working in restaurants isn’t for me. I’m not fast enough or can handle long hours of standing or walking or long hours of soaked hands. Osteoarthritis and eczema are a few things that make this environment of work impossible for me. And I figured out the jobs I’m best suited to are remote jobs in translation and editing or any other writing-related jobs. Maybe an office job or even in publishing or editing.

Another thing that causes me anxiety is fixing my sleep schedule to accommodate the needs of the job or my parents’ needs for house chores.

Hopefully, I achieve that.

Yet anxiety might have cost my best friend… a few weeks ago my best friend asked for space. (If you don’t know what’s going on with that read https://mythoughtsandtalents.wordpress.com/2023/01/18/current-battles/)

It makes me sad to think that someone who also suffers from social anxiety would understand the situation and the feelings that come along with such issues. Alas, I understand how triggering it must be so I can’t be that mad at her.

I am hurt though because I reached out for help and she didn’t help me while other times when I didn’t reach out she gave me hell for it… And when communication was established the entire atmosphere has grown cold from my side. This friendship is testing me and is testing.

I don’t know how I will manage to live with this upgraded version of my anxiety but I will try. And if I don’t manage then…I couldn’t. Lately, dying doesn’t sound so bad.

Here’s to finding the strength to do that and getting a remote writing/translating job!

Current Battles

Lately, from Friday to today, things have been getting bad. My anxiety has spiked because on Friday I had to confirm to the night school that I would go to our Erasmus exchange program. I was having 2nd and 3rd thoughts because I’m very anxious about traveling after the pandemic and because last time I was in Italy it was an experience!

Although, now I’m a bit less anxious about the trip, I did share my anxieties with my best friend and her response was harsh. It hurt me and I told her so. The response back was even harsher saying how she tried to be considerete and kind but I didn’t respond to it so it was time for tough love. She hasn’t been all that considered BUT she has been dealing with a lot of things in her life hence why I haven’t shared much of what has been going on with me.

I know I’m part to blame for not sharing everything with my best friend but I don’t feel comfortable and kind to share my troubles and anxieties with her while she’s going through the ringer, from her health to family stuff. I have tried to be there for her as best as I can which right now I’m doubting if I did all I could. It hurts.

But what hurts the most is the fact that my own mother agrees with her. My mother always agrees with my best friend even if she has been wrong in the past. On that note, things with my parents have been going great… until today…

I have troubles waking up early and I have been trying to fix that. But today we had a fight about this and my mum used my fragile anxiety and all my shortcomings and it hurt to see her use what I have shared with them. I felt like I was being slapped and then she added that she agreed with my best friend’s words.

I have been in a very dark space especially since Monday when things went a bit dark in my head while I was showering. And now this… I cried and my intrusive thoughts turned suicidal. I rushed to my medicine box and my bag to start looking for pills just to end it.

I have been trying for years to get a job got rejected so many times, I write and put things out in the world nobody reads it not even my own family. I put on an ad for work nobody sees this. My skills aren’t in retail or restaurants it’s my writing and computers. I’m currently going to night school to learn more about computers so I can apply to such jobs but it’s not enough.

The entire universe and people around me show me that I don’t matter and I’m tired of hoping and trying. So, I’m escalating my plan instead of killing myself at 25 years old I’m killing myself this year! I’m done!

Yet, as I started Googling to see which meds would do the job I ended up cleaning out the box and expired medication and wondering what is half of them. And since I’m writing this now, I didn’t do it. But I will at some point this year because I’m fucking done.

I am a waste of recourses and space. Thanks for following me throughout these years… I guess….

Depression, Anxiety and After-Covid Traveling.

I have depression since I was eight and anxiety since I was twelve years old. But traveling…traveling I’ve been doing since I was nine months old.

As a toddler before mental health became an issue for me, I loved it but after some time it got tiring and annoying, every summer touring half of Greece waking up in one place and sleeping in another. Seeing friends and family was the good thing plus I would get to see new places.
But when my mental health started declining so did my energy. I would get irritated having to put up a happy smiley faces and having no one to really talk about what was happening to me, I had no idea how it was called back then.

Then came the money problems, I would feel guilt and anxiety whenever I would listen to my parents schedule the trip and watch all the bills. I have memories of my parents, specifically my dad’s face, how they would winced whenever my sister and I would ask either for ice cream or to order something other than a juice at the cafes we would go with family and friends. I also remember my mum’s frown whenever we would have to order takeout because we had no means to cook homemade food. All that made me feel guilty for adding more financial stress by just existing and with already weighted mental health didn’t help.

That resulted into me dreading the summers and road trips altogether. I preferred staying homebound and going to closer places, ya known local tourism and all.

When I became a teenager, specifically 17 years old and onwards, due to financial strain in my family we started going to divided vacations meaning that in a week, on Monday with Tuesday dad and I would visit his village, while mum and sister stayed at home. Then Wednesday with Friday mum and dad would have their vacation somewhere close by. On the weekends my sister and I would go to the city an hour away from our hometown and stay at our aunt’s place having some sister time. These types of trips were better for my anxiety but not my depression.

Since I was 18 years old we started going for vacation in one place, my grand aunt’s house aka my maternal grandma’s hometown which is a near the sea and it’s a tourist attraction plus we have our own house. Anxiety wise this was not much of an issue if you moved past the long hours to get to the city and then clean a house that has a year worth of dust. At 18 cleaning that house was a ten years worth of dust so it was much trouble to clean and then shape it like we wanted. Adding the home repairs that the house was in desperate need of. It started to feel like a home away from home.

In the city my depression seems to either get heavier or weightless depends on a lot of factors I have come to realize. At 18 my depression was heavy because my friends didn’t understand the need for me to travel with my family and not go on a solo vacation with them. Plus, it was a year after my grandmother died so we were all still grieving or in various stages of grief so I feared if we separated things wouldn’t be great, plus we had lawyers and home repairs to deal with so my parents needed help. At 19 i was fine at first, my anxiety was at its peak because of no WiFi or TV and I didn’t know what to do with myself or my electronics. But then I got the worst depressive episode I had so far, it was excruciating and fights ensued because of it between myself and my family. The entire summer was tense.

At 20, i was better prepared, I had downloaded movies/tv shows/songs and I had plenty of stories waiting to be written plus I had learned the city by now and my sister and I had set a goal to start working out and exploring the city while working on our sisterly bond. That summer city had become a place where all of us would work on our familial bond, we would have long conversations about what transpired during the winter and solve any conflicts we had. We would return home with a stronger bond and calmer minds for the winter. My depression and anxiety that summer was the not good but not bad either I felt like I had it under control and my parents helped me through two of my episodes. Plus my sister was a star! She would drag me out of bed and push me to exercise or pretend to need my help with this or that.

At 21, it was even better! Cleaning the house was less of a hassle now because we knew where each thing went. But, pre-Covid lockdown that house was broken into. So when we went there we had to fix things around the house. Having to do that plus the already burdened mental health due to two lockdowns and how the state of the world was/is. During the lockdowns I had severe anxiety and my depression wasn’t at its best. Had some episodes but what was worse was my anxiety and I know I wasn’t the only one all of us sustained emotional and physical trauma from the 2020 and keeping being traumatized a year later.

Now, at 22, I didn’t want to go to the summer home at all because it meant separating from WiFi and if I thought in the past I was addicted to them now I was EVEN MORE addicted. Anxiety peaked when I was trying to make space in my computer’s storage to add move movies and tv shows, ASMR videos and ambient ones. But what things were even more terrifying were the facts that I was travelling alone with my teen sister who I was legally now her guardian during this trip while grieving the recent death of our grandaunt Helena, me recovering from the second dose of the Covid vaccine, the heat wave that my country was under, my own bladder issues and on top of that our road was changed originally because the original route was in flames, wildfires were plaguing my country. The place we were heading to 48 hours ago was also in flames and the flames had stopped 10-20 minutes away from our house there.

Thankfully, the bus ride was uneventful and not hot at all, the only scary thing was that the bus had once more to divert its route because the wildfire we were trying to avoid licked the back of our bus, you looked out of your window and you saw the firey beast! No one was hurt but when we stopped at rest stop the bus driver cleaned the back from the ash and checked the tires and let us know that because of this change of route we lost one scheduled stop and added one more hour to the already seven hours trip. He said he would have accelerate our speed so we can make it on time but he told us to check our bus schedules for those who had connected bus rides or flights or trains and ships. It was a bit of a mess on that front. But everyone obeyed the Covid laws and we had masks one and everything. He managed to get us to our destination with 45 minutes to spare because collectively the bus told the driver not to make another stop when he asked at te 3 hour mark and he saw a rest stop. My bladder was also cooperating with me and making it difficult but the seats were a little too uncomfortable for mine and my sister’s body types. But i did dehydrate myself in order to make it work.

Seeing the fire nearing us and smelling it while seeing my baby sister sleeping soundly next to me oblivious to the danger we were in was a lot and I realized it at night when I woke up from a nightmare and I had a panic attack. And that didn’t help when the next day around 6 pm as I’m sitting in the balcony facing the sea and the Central Greece I saw the fires appearing, I heard their screams, I heard and saw the firefighting planes trying to get to them. I smelled the smoke. I froze realizing how close we were, the Gulp of Korinthos was what was keeping us safe. That night I hardly slept not being able to breathe and hearing the planes.

I was awakened at 10 am by the sound of my phone with an evacuation alert because of how close we were. Watching my country burn reminded me of tow other summers that were plagued in flames when I was 11 years old and 19 years old, Greece never recovered from that fire, a decade and four years later, and seeing that this year’s fires were worse and bigger in kilometers and cities that it claimed, I know Greece will never recover. Not in two decades or more. Animals and tree species were forever gone because for arsonists and climate change.

At 22 the summer of 2021 was one of those summers that we had once more tour almost all of Greece, a challenging trip because of Covid mandates, money, heat waves and wildfires. You had to make sure where you were going wasn’t burning and you had an evacuation plan or plans in mind just in case fire gets to where you were. You were nowhere safe.

I visited Athens for what I count as the first time this summer. I mean my internet best friend in real life, met my honorary Uncle Thomas aka my mum’s best friend. And saw where my mum was staying when she was a teen like me and in college. I used to be afraid and despise Athens but after this trip I view the city in less negative light but still I want to discover it more before I say that I like it. I had fun. My anxiety and depression in Athens was almost non-existent. I did felt anxious because it’s a huge city and it takes time to commute and scheduling to meet with people and standing them up is my nightmare and worse fear plus the fear of being mugged. I sued the subway for the first time and I loved it! I love trains in general! Athens felt wrong especially while staying at the house my mum lived as college student and how small it was.

But walking amongst the ancient places it felt oddly familiar and that is what made me change my mind about this city. Something in me this summer changed but I don’t know what it is.
Not yet. But this summer, the summer of 2021, didn’t feel like a summer, like a vacation. It felt void, forced even untimely like it wasn’t meant to be summer yet but it was summer. Fearing an invisible enemy and a fiery one. It left me unsure because it taught me that nothing is forever, moments, laughter, houses, land nothing.

I hope the summer of 2022 to be happier or at least with happier moments.

Those are my thoughts on anxiety, depression and the aftermath of Covid travelling.

Depression And Friendships

Trigger Warning; Mention of depression, anxiety, self-harming! Read with caution!

According to my parents, I was always a very friendly child growing up…but then the depression came, and with it a shitload of other dark things in my life, breaking my trust and friendly spirits.

Now, as an adult of 21 going 22 years of life, I can’t understand how I view making friends so easy as a kid. Yes, talk to others is easy but maintaining a friendship is hard work! And especially with my anxiety and depression, it makes things twice as hard!

Most of my anxiety attacks during this pandemic had been because I didn’t answer phones or messages from my friends. I was really stressed about keeping up with everyone and everything yet wanting to be locked in my room and write or watch tv shows and movies without being bothered.

And I don’t know if it’s me but whenever I have a problem I don’t reach out to my friends because the times I did reach out I expected something I didn’t get and even apathy. An event is very fresh in my mind, it was when I was feeling very very low when I was 19 and I called my then-new friend (now best friend) to talk me out of self-harming, she did help by distracting me but when she asked me why I called her all of a sudden and told her she told me not to stress about it! And on other occasions, she wasn’t all that empathetic which stank at that moment, I get it now since I’ve known her better, calming words aren’t her thing and I appreciate that she’s trying. But since it’s not her thing I feel awful putting her in such a position so I refrain from telling her anything and try to solve it myself, if I can’t then I reach out.

Having said that, I believe I found myself in a similar situation myself, I met this girl from Tumblr a year or so ago and we decided to start talking on Discord during the second lockdown here in Europe. She and I have similar mental health issues, hers are more severe than mine, which pains me greatly and I wished I could somehow lift some of that burden off her so she could rest. She needed me, and I couldn’t find the right words to say to her.

The same thing happened with another kid, he’s way younger than me, we met on Quora and we re-connected on Discord last year. He’s self harming and shows signs of self destructive behavior, he reached out to me thinking because I was dealing with the same issues that I could help counsel him as both an older person but also sort of veteran in that alley of issues.

I couldn’t help him either, his behavior triggered me so bad I retreated to a very dark corner. And through countless hours of talking with him I realized he doesn’t want to help himself, he expects others to heal him. I felt uncomfortable both because of our age difference and of how severe his issues were, he didn’t need me he needed a psychiatrist. I tried to tell him to go, I send him links and resources, he didn’t use them. So, I made the hard decision to stop communicating with him.

I felt like a shitty person for not healing him. But I understood that this wasn’t my place.

Then we have a former best friend I had, she had undiagnosed issues and hard life, I was in awe that she survived that much. Our friendship was great from my point of view but not from hers, the moment the summer of 2020 came she cut contact with me. It burned and I grew angry and bitter but looking back now, she was going through something that I couldn’t help her with because I wasn’t fit to help her. If our friendship had withstood the test of the pandemic I truly fear it would have turned toxic or I would have become toxic trying to survive it. But all that are theories. I truly don’t know how that friendship would have turned out since it seemed I was wearing rosy-colored glasses and didn’t see the cracks. I hope she’s doing okay though because she blocked me on everything…

Then we have my other friend, E, E and I go way back, we met on the first day of High School and our friendship is casual with many breaks of communication in between because of life. I liked how uncomplicated our friendship is and how understanding she’s is. Do I trust her? Yes. Am I being honest with her? Yes, it’s hard but I’m trying. I truly believe mine and E’s friendship has been this casual because I don’t hide my emotions and opinions from her and I really hope she does the same thing. Although, I have been warned by people to be careful with her because she gossips a lot but the people who warned me about her caused me the most heartache down the line, so it’s safe to say they were biased and maybe trying to break us up.

Then I have my only male friend, with whom the friendship is complicated, to say the least and we have loooong cuts in communication and we live in the same town for Christ’s sake! E lives in a village half an hour away, my best friend lives also in a village half an hour away and my Tumblr turned Discord friend lives in England! He doesn’t really communicate which is hard and I don’t really know if he views me as his friend anymore but it’s nice whenever we meet up.

Throughout our friendship, I went through very dark bouts of depression and yet he never noticed which I don’t blame him it wasn’t his job to do so but it kinda made me bitter but again that’s my issue.

My issue is that my depression, anxiety, self-destructive behavior, and trust issues make me closed off and spend too much time in my head and not noticing what’s going on around me. And when I do I take too long to react.

I have no idea how to balance my mental health and my friendships and be helpful when it comes to my friends’ mental healths, I’m still learning though.

Hopefully, I don’t lose any more friends in the process. 

My Anxiety

In recent years, from age 12 and up, I would get anxiety attacks.

It started with my chest and heart feeling heavy and like long nails grabbing my heart and squeezing it and causing me breath shortness and then my entire nerves in my body will feel cloated and then I would have spasms and then faint from pain.

As I grew older my anxiety changed, I would get shortness of breath and heart beating fast to the point it hurts and then I would cry and be tired for the rest of the day.

At 19 my anxiety changed again and I would get this feeling that I would get too much air and I couldn’t be able to process it and I would just feel overwhelmed, cold and my chest would be in pain because I’m gulping the air. And then I’ll be cold and tired for the rest of the day.

At 20, during the first quarantine my anxiety will be too much oxygen that I can’t process, my heart and chest in pain to the point I will have to keep still and close my eyes and try to breathe in and out. But I started having anxiety attacks during the night, most times I will try to sleep but the anxiety would make my brain not stop working and my legs to grow restless and I would be pacing back and forth, not even ASMR would help. Then If I’m asleep I would get anxiety attacks in my sleep causing me to gasp awake and hyperventilate or see a nightmare and wake up crying and with anxiety attack ongoing already.

Then during the second quarantine my anxiety became all the above plus the feeling of your entire skeleton shaking and my joints to be in pain and when I’m standing up I fear that I would fall over or during the shaking I’ll be attempting to move and I would feel frozen or in pain and I would have to force my body to move or I would feel like I’m moving in slow motion and that would cause me pain if I try to rush me.

I used to think that I don’t need meds even though I was given meds but my pharmist, who happens to be my sister’s godmother and the same woman that saved my life when I was born, she was in the delivery room with my mum and also was the maid of honor at my parents’ wedding, so I trust her, told me that the meds I was given were too heavy for me and shouldn’t really take them and my gut feeling told me the same thing. But now, I think I need the help because breathing excercises don’t do it anymore…

So, I’m planning to talk to a doctor for that and a psychologist.

Another thing my anxiety changed is talking on the phone. I hate it and dread it now. I prefer typing an email and texting. I grow anxious whenever I notice missed calls or too many messages on social media or too long texts on social media. I also grow anxious when I have to upload chapters and blogs which is one of the many reasons why there are so few and with long period in between them.

And that is my anxiety story! This post was inspired by a conversation I had with my dad and little sister.

I hope everyone is doing okay during this yet remain weird times! Thanks for reading my post!

My Life Turned Upside Down Just As The World Went Bat-Shit Crazy!

WOAH! And I thought my life in 2019 was hard and full of upside downs….

Life is hard as I already knew and I have been taught time again and again!

I truly thought that 2019 was the worst year and the best at the same time in my personal life because it had been a rollercoaster of emotions, feelings and thoughts and events.

I started 2019 having so many friends…yet throughout of it I started losing them, I started to move on because I wasn’t just a college student anymore, I was a student looking for a residency so I can use what I learned in theory into action and see if it’s a job I wanted to do even though I was doubting my choice of becoming a Filmmaker in training…

I started realising what I wanted to with my life professionally wise which brought another realization of the fact that I was near nowhere to achieve the before mentioned realization!

And during all of this I met a new friend and we were in our honeymoon phase. Yes, I was losing friends in one town and gaining another one in another city.

I was… looking back now… living a very nice life….with its struggles alright but it was great! Yes, I was nervous beyond adjusting…i mean if you asked me to choose the worst anxiety I ever felt before 2020 I would say that it was that time, the time that I was looking for a job and a residency.

I might be romanticising it now in comparison to how 2020 is going but at least there wasn’t a fucking pandemic and people weren’t dying. Or countries and economies collapsing.

Then Christmas came. I got my residency one I truly liked! I lost a bit of weight (which I gained back in quarantine) and I had lost all my friends yet I had my new friend and the only thing I had to find is a job…

Christmas was the last time I managed to meet three people from my previous friend group which the two people I considered them my best friends and meet them my new friend and fast becoming my 3rd best friend.

Christmas was amazing and fun!

Then New Year’s Eve came and I felt as if I was waiting for something that has been suffocating since the Christmas of 2018 came. Mt family didn’t feel up to it either so we skipped celebrating and I refused to go out afterwards since I was invited anywhere because the people who used to invite me were not my friends anymore.

It was hurtful to watch Instagram stories of them having fun without me but also I didn’t really care because for once I felt comfortable in my house and I wasn’t forcing myself to go out and be uncomfortable in a club that they played music I hate and with alcohol I don’t drink, listening to stories and inside anecdotes I wasn’t part of because I was living in between towns.

Then 2020 came and along with it a shit load of shit for all of us.

Before quarantine lockdown in my country on February I got a TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) because my mum accidentally hit me with our family’s car’s trunk in the head and I was bleeding from 7 pm up to 3 am.

Then three weeks in my recovery quarantine happened.

Quarantine was quite for me but my family two weeks before May started to fight and words were said that reminded me of the reasons why studies and research have told me that I was raised in an emotionally and very rarely physically abusive household.

I love my parents and how good and progressive, fun they are on good days but they are very scary and hurtful on bad days.

During all of this my mind wondered if I could make it to be more consistent with my posts here. I really think that my life isn’t that interesting but still I don’t know what to do with this blog.

And now .

And now that jobs are even harder to find…i fear for my future like everyone else.

So, this is what has happened of me these past year and a few months….

Sorry for not being more active here but I will try. And maybe this will be seen more.

I just need to find the courage to post about my life and my dreams into the deep unknown the Internet is since I suck at friendships in real life…

I might post a more detailed post about my 2019 life if this current post gets some attention!

Thanks for reading! I hope you are doing well too! And you are staying safe out there!!!

💙💜

I’m Tired

Things are getting deep and negative, be aware of that fact!

Not that anyone reads this blog…

I’m so tired waking up every day and my first thought to be that i’m tired and that i want everyone and everything to fade away.

I’m tired of watching the disappointed looks on my parents and aunt’s faces.

I’m tired of hearing my sister’s mocking remarks.

I’m tired of hearing my mum’s disappointed remarks.

I’m tired of hearing that i do nothing in the house.

I’m tired of knowing that my best attempts are not enough.

I’m not enough.

My mum a month or so ago told me that i’m projecting things. Meaning that i see a situation and my mind instantly tries to find a situation in my life and mirror it to the said situation. Thus my feelings regarded that situation are not real or aren’t correct.

Emotions aren’t correct.

Bitch what the fuck?

Now this morning i hadn’t had more than 30 minutes i woke up and i was trying…key word trying…to have some sort of breakfast…my mother decided it was a great time to talk to me about how i have two sides to myself…

The one side that i’m passionate for things i like and i’m capable to pay attention to the last detail yet those things i’m passionate about aren’t important thus my excitement is wrongfully invested in those activities.

And the other side that when it comes to do things that are important to everyday life i’m a lazy ass. I don’t pay attention to the detail and if i don’t die from the dirt around me i won’t clean or do the dishes.

So in other words she told me once again i do nothing around the house.

But because i’m tired of doing what i always thought to be a safest and quickest route out of these conversations, which is keep my mouth shut, nod, agree, apologize and promise to try my absolute best next time, instead i yelled at her and my sister who she was sitting with us and agreed.

I told them that i can’t sleep at night and i have to pace back forth in the room which isn’t my own because in their house i have no room or bed to call my own…not that i do anywhere really…and i end up always exhausting myself around 4 or 5 am which make me wake up at 12:50 pm after not so restful 8 hours sleep.

They nodded and said that they understand but that is no excuse!

I DON’T HAVE MY OWN SPACE TO REST! AND I’M FORCED TO MAKE DO WITH WHAT I HAVE! IN MY COLLEGE TOWN I LIVE IN MY AUNT’S HOUSE WHERE DURING THE WEEK DAYS I SLEEP IN HER BED AND IN THE WEEKEND I HAVE TO EITHER RETURN TO MY MUM’S HOMETOWN WHERE I SLEEP IN THE LIVING ROOM OR MOVE TO A SMALL ROOM WHERE IT LOOKS MORE LIKE A STORAGE ROOM THAN A BEDROOM!

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO GET A PEACEFUL NIGHT OF SLEEP WHEN I KNOW THAT THE MOMENT THE CLOCK STRIKES 7 AM MY DAD OR ANYONE REALLY WILL WAKE UP AND START DOING THINGS AND NOISE AROUND THE HOUSE WITH NO REGARD FOR THOSE WHO SLEEP!

OH! AND I’M NOT ALLOWED TO CLOSE THE DOOR BECAUSE I STOP THE CIRCULATION OF AIR AROUND THE HOUSE!!!

Then the have the audacity to say that i don’t do nothing in the house and i’m always with a frown in my face and a bored expression.

They expect me to be cheery (Hollywood style) in the morning!

How the fuck would i do that when at night i have to fight my anxiety for what i did wrong the day that past and what mistakes i would possible do the next day! And the voice in my head that tells me i’m a nothing and that i should kill myself?

That i don’t see anything past my phone/computer….i notice pretty much everything but i’m so tired to do anything about it and if i do they are going to say how my way of dealing with it is wrong so in order save their time from yelling at me, i let them do it themselves (as if) the way they want to be done. Problem solved.

I’m tired of knowing that i would forever be the girl who trusted her ex best friend yet she used her kind nature and manipulated her by playing with her trust and then once i wasn’t in the same town she started withdrawing from me and not calling me back.

And now she starts talking to me again because she fought with her “true” best friends and she has no one and she feels alone. I’m like a fucking back up friend! AND STILL I SPOKE TO HER KINDLY AND I’M POLITE TOWARDS HER.

Because i believe that being kind i’m being the bigger person.

Of course i always thought that she was a smart girl but after i read her answer when i asked her flat out why she never picked the goddamn phone to call me i started questioning my belief.

Her answer was that because she was young she didn’t know where her head was at.

After i read that answer i knew two things; 1 her mental maturity is really really low and 2 she was lying to me and the true answer was that she started feeling that our friendship was done.

How can you be “young” and “not knowing where your head is at” when you are sixteen? At sixteen i could easily sustaine myself without my parents!

It angers me sometimes when she uses excuses her age! I would prefer if she had told me something along the lines of;

“Look, Vicky, i was bored to call you because you had nothing interesting to say and in all honesty our similarities ended when you moved away.”

That would have been the answer i would be like;

“Okay. Thanks for not leaving me alone during school days. It was nice knowing ya, i hope you have a great life. Bye.”

Instead she used that lame excuse thinking i’m so naive that i would think it was true!

I’m so tired of when i think i can trust my parents because they say they heard me and understand me the next day or even hour i’m proven wrong…that i can’t trust them or they don’t understand me.

I feel like i’ve been tricked. Manipulated.

And once i digest the fact that i might have been manipulated by both my parents, my aunt, my sister and my ex best friend i start questioning… Am i really smart? A smart person wouldn’t stay and get manipulated by these people, right?

I’m tired of dragging this baggage of being a disappointment.

I sometimes think that my sister is their dream child and i was just the prototype that went through test run and it broke….

The truth is that

I’m weak

I’m naive

I’m not smart otherwise i would have found a way out

I will never be enough for anyone.

And at last knowing all my flaws, being aware of them, i think that i will never be in an emotional position to allow anyone to love me, be a potential love interest, because i won’t be able to see past my flaws and accept theirs…

I used to say to myself that i will work on my issues and fix them AND THEN focus on relationships but i’m deep into my 19 years of life and everyone around me have already fallen in love, had their first time sex and even some got married and now have their first child!

And i’m here in front of the computer typing this blog post….

I’m so tired of being reminder all these facts by just looking at the mirror or my family’s faces.

If anyone read this; thank you and i hope i didn’t bring your mentality down. 

Bye.

Weight = Low Self-Esteem…or is it just my parents?

It’s about to get heavy in here so…TRIGGER WARNING FOR EVERYTHING!!!!

Okay, how i should start this..oh yeah, like that!

Let’s go to the past, shall we?

Once upon a time, (15 years ago) i was a child who wasn’t fat, i was very very thin that i was told by my grandmas to eat more.

When i became ten years old my maternal grandma started to make comments that i’m getting fat and that i should eat less.

At the age of 12 my parents started making the same comments as my maternal grandma.

My paternal grandma wasn’t saying anything harmful she always allowed me to eat as much as i wanted and said nothing and whenever she would see me cry she would ask me what is wrong. She never ever until she died said anything bad about me unlike the rest of my family including my sister to those people. She was always so kind and supportive even thought close to the end she had started to forget things but i didn’t care. I always got angry at my dad’s and my mum’s behavior towards her whenever she would buy too much food, start cooking way too early in the morning or forget things or fall asleep in the bathroom. I remember how happy she was when dad bought her an MP3 player and she started listening to her songs, she would sing along and she would dance whiling sitting down, her smile during those times was like i could see my grandma’s much younger self-shining through, the self i saw in the portrait of her wedding day. But she died and i couldn’t say goodbye to her.

Now come to think of it i never had a chance to say goodbye to no one…not my grandpas, not my grandmas, not my grand-uncles and grand-aunts…no one…

Anyway, back to the point.

At the age of 13 i fell in love with mayonnaise and sandwiches…dad and mum kept yelling at me; “Don’t eat that! You’ll get fat!”.

At the age of 14 i had gained weight.

At 16 i gained more weight.

At 17 i gained more weight…the same year i was diagnosed with Hashimoto Thyroid and i was told i would get pills to balance it…my doctor told me that was the reason why i gain weight.

Then i told her about my depression and my eating habit of mayonnaise and she smiled, she asked me if i had friends during the examination and i told her no…i don’t trust people i told her…i used to have three best friends, Angela, Nicky and Polly but they are gone now. I never really shared my true self with them…i was too mature for them..well in all honesty i believe i liked to suffer in the dark where no one would judge me or lie to me so i pushed them away or focused too much on them that they felt as if i was suffocating them…mothering them.

I could see in her eyes how sad she was by listening to my words but didn’t say anything.

I guess people who care too much end up numbing themselves because the world gets too offensive when people show that they care a great deal about someone or something.

At 18 i got diagnosed with Osteoarthritis Chondropathy…or too be more precise… i have been suffering from osteoarthritis Chondropathy ever since i was 5 and started getting too much height…I remember when i was kid i would complain about knee pains and joints pain constantly but my parents were like “Oh! You are getting taller! Don’t worry, drink some milk, honey!” or they would yell “Oh! Stop complaining! Everyone hurts some place but we are not complaining! Now shut up!”.

I always used to think that feeling my own knees being dislocated and put back into their place while walking or running was normal or that waking up in terrible pain at night to the point i would have to bite my lips until they bled so i won’t cry out and wake everyone up was normal or that whenever i would try to change position in my sleep my knees would get dislocated and i would have to put them back in the morning or i would wake up not feeling my legs from the knees down so i would have to hit them…punch them in order to bring the feeling of them being part of my skeleton back was normal. That falling while there was nothing that should have caused me to fall was normal or walking and then suddenly i have no control of my legs and not feeling them AT ALL was normal!

Then at 7 mum got diagnosed with an autoimmune disease…i thing was Lupus stage 2…but i might be wrong i was too young to understand them and mum doesn’t like to talk about it…and i stopped paying attention to my pains and tried to be a good daughter…

At 7,5 years old i overheard my mum’s physician tell my dad and his mum that they should get me checked for the same illness as my mum when i become 18 years old.

My dad had laughed at that and said there was no need…i was just too tall for my age.

I never saw that physician again but at 18 i was diagnosed with something similar drawn from my mum’s and dad’s genetics…great!

When the doctor asked me why i was in his office and i told him about the incident of i had three night ago when i woke up at 2 am and i couldn’t feel anything from the waist down i had to drag myself out of bed to the kitchen while i’m on the floor to tell to my parents what is going on…i told him that in the morning of that day i was walking down some stairs and i lost the feeling of my legs and i fell on top of an elderly man who volunteered to drive me to the hospital but i refused i asked him to get me to sit down and leave me to regain sense of my legs. I told him about the constant knee pains, the waking up in the middle of the night crying from the pain, the dislocation and putting my knees back while walking or sleeping.

The doctor looked beyond shocked and mortified and then asked my dad “Where were you and your wife, sir when all these was taking place?” and my dad laughed anxious “She is a dramatic kid we thought she was magnifying the pains to gain attention.”

I had looked at my dad with such shock while inside of me i was boiling with rage!

Then the doctor asked me if i could tell him from scale 1 to 10 the pain i felt every night. I told him that i couldn’t count it because for me was now was part of my life i was so used to it that i had stopped feeling the pain at the age of 15 but i remember the pain when i first felt it or when i first dislocated my knees while walking. He told me to tell him…i looked at him straight in the eyes and said 25…the pain was 25 from scale 1 to 10…a pain i would never wish on anyone no matter what they have done in life.

My dad all throughout this was looking at the window behind the doctor or at my knees i could read his…aura if i might say…because his face was unreadable…he was thinking i was lying and that i was dramatic.

I felt such defeat in that moment. I felt dirty and that i should cut my legs off. I felt guilt that now my dad has to think about the money and pay for my medicine or surgery or whatever the doctor would say.

Then when we walked out of the doctor’s office my dad turn to me and said; “Told you that you shouldn’t eat that much, look what your weight do to you. It’s all your fault if you hadn’t had such weight you would be a pretty lady. Not a fat one.”

Geez! Dad! Thanks for the support!

I spend three months learning how to walk again on my own with no one to help me…dad went on a walk with me the first day but after that he was too busy, my aunt came some time but she was walking too fast for me and whenever i would ask her to slow down she would tell me that i was being too easy on myself and by doing that i wouldn’t get better.

The second visit to the doctor he told me i would have to lose weight i would be seated in a wheel-chair at 25 and at 30 i would have to have a knee reconstructive surgery…

My own knees were becoming more and more dust every time i walked! He told me i should stop dancing, jumping, running, climbing stairs, sitting Indian style, walking, riding my bike, playing any sport what so ever and if i wanted to swim i should be careful and not too deep into the sea.

So pretty much i shouldn’t do anything of what i liked or would help me to lose weight!

My parents kept saying that i’m getting fat.

At least three times a day.

Whenever i would complain about my knees pain they would say it’s because i’m fat.

They would tell me to go out and walk around the block and whenever i would tell them that the doctor forbid it they would look at me with “i know better” look or with a “Don’t use him as an excuse to be lazy” look.

Then mum would yell at me for not being supportive and understanding of her illness and disability to walk or do any chores in the house!

That is still going on! Although i’m feeling much better, two years later, mind you my parents and aunt still say i’m fat.

Which gets me to my next subject i wanted to add in this post;

I was around 17 when i was sitting with my mum in the kitchen while some friend of hers was in our house, i was sitting with them only because mum used to ask me to bring her things because she couldn’t walk…not that i cared about the guest…i was writing a chapter on my laptop when the guest ask me if i’m texting on Facebook to my boyfriend and that is why i’m typing so furiously…no i wasn’t…i was typing a fight scene and then a death scene…i looked at her without stopping typing and laughed saying that i had no boyfriend.

Then mum said; “Of course she wouldn’t…i don’t expect that from her…besides she doesn’t have a style to attract the male’s attention, she has no style or the body. She’s fat.”

My mum’s friend smiled at me and went back to smoking but asked me what i was typing. I explained to her shortly that i was writing a story about this girl who fights in parallel worlds in order to keep the balance of the multiverse which was a theory my heroines’ great great grandpa came up with in 1920s and her grandpa proved right in 1950s by shoving his son, my heroines’ dad, through a portal along with himself making them get stranded in a parallel world where her dad was raised and she was born into.

Then she asked me if i wrote that story in Greek and i told her that it was in English. She looked impressed at me and then asked me what i wanted to be when i grew up…i told her i wanted to either direct a movie or write a book but if i didn’t manage that i would love to teach at a University about History or Psychology or Anthropology. Or i would like to write a book where i could tell what was historically going on globally during each year from the moment the humans started civilisations up to whatever technological advances would happen while i’m an adult.

She looked even more impressed and then looked at my mum and praised me but mum just mumbled a “yep” without caring. My mum’s friend asked me if i plan to marry and i said that if i found the right person otherwise i would gladly be a single mum…and even adopt kids or use a sperm donor…needless to say my mum and her friend choked on their cigarettes with my answer but i didn’t care.

Then mum’s friend asked me what i meant by “person” and i smiled and said it could either be a man or a woman i have no problem love is love. I could see my mum’s eyes glaring at me while her friend laughed and said that she wished me all i ever want in life to come true and that i should sent her a wedding invite no matter the gender of my spouse to be. And that being smart is more attractive than being a plastic Barbie she had learnt that from her two marriages, the second one being almost loveless after twenty years and a child.

That day i had low-key came out to my mum but i didn’t see it as a big deal.

After that mum didn’t ask me about boys or girls never! Up until my sister started teasing me for being a 18-year-old virgin in all bases and having no crushes.

She told me that i should start paying more attention to people around me and not my phone or the book i was at the time reading that maybe if i raised my head up from those things i might catch a boy’s attention.

I felt angry and i said i didn’t care about love.

Then again she never asked about my love life until about a month ago…it was after lunch when i was about to start gathering the dishes when my sister asked me why i haven’t fallen in love yet…she is constantly in love with several boys…i swear she is the complete opposite of me in that and many other areas!

I told her that i don’t believe in love. But in all honesty i don’t believe i deserve love. That someone could love me accepting all my flaws and my fat body….that someone would say to his friends or her friends how much in love they are with me even though i’m fat.

My sister then pressed on not believe that i have never fallen in love or that a boy never confessed his undying love…well there was one in 5th grade but who counts him…it lasted 3 days and then he started bullying me for breaking up with him…i felt uncomfortable…trapped you might say knowing that i had a boyfriend.

So i got defensive i told her to look at her life and not mine that i’m no example and that she should be more focused on resting and gathering her strength for the upcoming school year.

Mum then said that i shouldn’t be mean to my sister and that i should stop being cold…well she told me to stop being icy bitch…I wish i was Killer Frost maybe then i could have use my sarcasm to give both of them a piece of my mind but sadly i’m not!

Then continued saying how i don’t dress properly and that if i started finding clothes that fit my figure i might find admirers or that if i took a better care of myself that then people might start noticing me.

WOW! Thanks mum for telling me how unnoticeable i am! I really needed that! Thanks!

All this time my sister had a smug look on her face while my mum had a “i’m older and wiser than you so listen” look.

I felt attacked. I felt as if i was backed to a corner and repeatedly punched.

Then came the six little words, mum said;

“Then maybe you could finally be beautiful.”

She then started to say that i had a great chest and i should flaunt it more by stop wearing shirts that are in a form of t-shirt. That i should start exercising in order to lose weight. That i should wear makeup and that i should make sure my hair are either red or dark brown not both colors at the same time because i look like a Gypsy…

She said that i should clean my face from black spots and make sure my nails both in my hands and feet are perfect…that i should shave “down there” just in case…

While telling me all these things i could only hear my own mother telling me that i’m not beautiful and that i’m not enough for a man or a woman to love me as i am with my extra pounds and the black spots on my face, with my Gypsy hair and my hairy legs..and arms…not armpits…arms!

That moment i wanted to crawl in dark hole and cry maybe die but as i was able to excuse myself i went into my room and i had this raging will to prove my parents wrong…to show them that brains matter more that beauty, that i would be happier if i ever find someone i could have intellectual conversation with! Someone who can fangirl/fanboy with me over TV shows, books, fanfictions, movies and dream about space travel. Someone i can debate about time travel and other theories with! With someone who when i want to cry would hold me and say that everything will be alright. With someone who would defend me in front of my parents’ attacks.

But i knew that was impossible so i had another raging will…i wanted to come up with a a theory and prove it right or invent something that would make the world better and then force them sit through my presentation and the praises from other professors and inventors! I wanted to show them that i am a badass!

But that will faded a second later when i looked myself on the mirror…who would want that…who would want me?

That night i tried to exhaust myself walking around the house in order to chase the thought of suicide out of my head. In my mind there was this war that half of my mind told me to end it all while the other one told me to hold on and that things are getting better and there was another part of me that said that i should hold on but for now let’s hurt myself a little bit…

So i went to the bathroom and…and i scratch myself…i turned my pimples on my arm and body into bleeding holes and i scratched my sunburn to the point it bled and i couldn’t stop it. The next day i woke up and my shirt was full of bloody spots…and so where my bed sheets. No one cared.

I’ve been doing this my whole life minus the walking around the house during the night…that is new…like a year old habit…new.

Let’s go to today…

A few hours ago as i’m writing this my mum asked me to make a salad and put her and dad a plate of lunch and as i was cutting the salad dad showed up and asked me if i joined them. When i told him i wasn’t hungry he told me that was good and that i shouldn’t eat maybe that way i will lose weight.

But listening to that made me angry so just from anger i joined them for lunch!

Then four hours ago i was walking around the house while listening to music trying to come up with a plot for a requested fanfiction when i noticed that i revert back to walking/limping like i used to do and that i grew more tired when i walked barefoot that with my sleepers on. When i foolishly went to tell my dad of my findings my dad told me that it was because i gained weight. And that he had photos of me to prove it.

He always does it! The same fucking thing!

I know that a reason i suffered the knee pains on my own for so long was because i feared the fat comments from my parents!

And as i was thinking about that theory i came up across another realization…i started not being able to sleep at night because of the anxiety of the next day…of me being again a target of fat comments from my parents. It’s manageable when i’m in my college town where i can skip calling them so i won’t have to hear them telling me to be careful of what i eat and that i should start weighting myself every day and keeping a score.

I understand the need of me to lose weight for my knees but with no support system is really hard! Plus stress cause us to gain weight too either my eating more or some chemical imbalance but my parents don’t seem to care that their comments are making me anxious!

But there are times where their comments make me want to kill myself just so i can get away from them. If only there was a way to fake your death and wake up in a parallel world where you have supportive parents, friends and everything else you desire.

The sentence above is always the last thing i think about every night before sleep take over and the first thing i think about when i’m waking up.

Sleep!

Oh! My dad and mum’s least favorite thing! They won’t stop complaining about how much i’m sleeping! Of course they are unaware of why i’m managing to fall asleep at least at 4 am…they think it’s the computer or my phone…nope! It’s them! At night when everyone is asleep is the only time i have for myself…the only time of the day where i can cry without fear of being seen and then mocked by them. The only time when i can let my imagination work without interruption and honestly i have come up with many great stories and blog posts.

At time during the nights it’s the only time i can fight with myself…during the day i have this constant negative committee in my head that every time my parents say that i’m not enough or that i’m not doing anything right agrees with them and points out my mistakes and they point out the perfect way things should be and how they are not.

But at night i fight that committee that every day and every second it whispers;

“You are not enough even your parents see that what makes you think that someone will see past this?”

“No one cares for you.”

“You have no friends.”

“Ice bitch”

“Show a little emotion it won’t kill ya…oh wait it will!”

“You have no home and you’ll never have one!”

“You belong nowhere!”

“You are not beautiful even your mother says that and you came out of her vagina…god! imagine how that must feel for her…having an ugly daughter like you who can’t speak correctly Greek and always feels comfortable speaking English betraying her heritage!”

“You are disgusting!”

“I wonder if you kill yourself who is going to miss you? No one! But maybe we should try it and see, what do you say?”

Every night i will walk around telling myself the same mantra;

“I’m enough! I have a future. i am making an impact on this world by just existing maybe my kids will do great things! I should hold on for my future kids! i am enough! There is someone out there waiting to meet someone like me! You can do this! You only lost twice to that fight and you are 19! You can do it!”

And it’s true…two times i lost the fight…one was at 15 when i was about to jump from the 3rd floor and the second just 24 hours before my 19th birthday when i was seriously thinking about committing suicide and that indeed no one would care. I even bet that my parents would learn of my suicide because the neighbors will complain about my dead body’s smell…or because my aunt and her boyfriend decide to spent the weekend in the apartment i’m living in (technically it’s my aunt’s apartment and i live there during the week days because it’s in my college town and on the weekends she shows up with her boyfriend and i go to my hometown…to my parents.)

That is the reason why i don’t get to sleep well and i end up waking up at noon….it’s exhausting fighting your own mind every night and day but my parents don’t care…i haven’t told them actually because i saw how they reacted when i told them…sorry whenever i would tell them about a weakness of mine…they would use it against me when a fail….

Alright! Sorry for the rant…i really needed it. Sorry for the long post.

Good night, people!