The lies I tell myself.

I’m currently on holiday.

I’ve had a pretty shit few months and I thought I just want to see some sun, so booked a break and here I am, sat on my balcony I’m Tenerife, red from the sun, watching Netflix with a stack of drink from the all inclusive bar, over looking the sea.

There’s no place I’m happier than in a hot country, it’s the place I crave for pretty much every day. Anywhere will do as longs as there’s sun and sea to look at.

But I find something weird about being abroad. The sea, the mountains, the sun, it makes me realise how small I am and how actually as humans were pretty small and insignificant and I find that liberating. I also find it’s where I do my best thinking. I become this deeper person. inward looking, constantly questioning, forward planning, existentially philosophising about my life is a task that faces me and chases me around the pool.

This time I’m on holiday with my mum and on the first night she asked me some questions and there began this years questions for myself. She asked me about my future and I answered her with my rehearsed lies. The lies I tell everyone and tell myself so often I’ve started to believe them but when I said them to my mum. I instantly came to the realisation I don’t believe them. So let’s take a look at them shall we?

1-my view on having kids.

I tell everyone that asks me that I don’t want my own children, that I just don’t see the need and I’d be happier and freer on my own.

Truth is I desperately want my own children, I’d be an amazing mum. Truth is I Darn’t admit that because it would mean I’m failing at something I want because I’m such a long way off. Truth is I’d be terrified of bringing a child into the world because they might inherit the pre disposition for mental illness that all my family has, and I’d hate to think I’d bring life to someone who would battle so hard with it.

2- my views on a partner

I tell everyone I don’t want a partner, that I’m independent, that I make my own decisions and don’t have to consider anyone else and that’s best for me

Truth is I’d love to find someone but I refuse to put myself in any situation that might involve a relationship. I’m too much to handle, what if it didn’t work out and it triggered my BPD and it fucked me up even more? What’s the point in trying when I’m so unattractive? Who would ever want someone like me?

3- my view on my career

I tell everyone I don’t care what I do as long as it’s helping someone.

Truth is I don’t really care about that right now, what I actually want is a job that’s easy going and enjoyable so maybe just for once I could focus on having fun rather that stuff that’s so intense, but it feels to selfish to admit that.

4- my views on my past

I tell everyone I’m over it,

That it doesn’t matter and I don’t blame anyone, things just happen and now fuck it, I’ve made something of myself.

Truth is, I’m still angry. There stuff I’ve never told anyone, and even the fact I’ve not told anyone makes me angry. Truth is I feel pretty hard done by, why me? Was it my fault? Who am I to still be upset by all this stuff? But actually, why was it me? Things happen and have happened that should never and that’s not ok.

5- my views on God.

I tell everyone that I don’t believe in God, that i am against organised religion, that the whole thing is ridiculous and cult like.

Truth is I do believe all those things, but I’m desperate to believe in god again, I just don’t. I constantly flashback to my church days and I get it out of my head as soon as possible, because I flashback to the hurt and the pain and the embarrassment I faced. But I miss the purpose, I miss feeling like there’s a point. Sometimes I try and convince myself that god is real and I made a massive mistake leaving the church, but it just doesn’t stick.

I could go on and on about this topic fo days, but 5 is a nice round number and it already got to heavy for my liking, so for now, that’s all.

Happy New Year … again

It’s another New Year. Happy 2018! It seems the New Years come and go really fast and after just recovering from Christmas were expected to be all festive again.

I hate New Years, until the last couple of years I was always scared to admit that. I wanted to be all positive every New Year’s Eve and would talk about having a fresh start and making all my dreams come true but the truth is every time I’ve said that I’ve know I’m lying and I’ve felt that sinking feeling that comes with failing to believe your own bullshit.

So now I acknowledge that I hate it, I hate all the “New Year, New me” stuff, because in reality the only thing that’s changed is the number on the end of the date. I’m the same person at 12:01 that I was at 11:59. I hate New Years resolutions because I believe if you want to change something, truly want to change it, I’d do it whether it was New Year or not.

Last night though, I learned something. There’s something freeing in admitting the truth. I acknowledged that i don’t like New Years and that generally it makes my mood quite low. So I put a plan in place that meant I was in bed by 10pm and would miss anything I might find difficult to deal with. I had no expectations for the night, just that it was a night like any other. So when at 10:30 I found myself hammered with my brother and his girlfriend walking to the pub to bring in the new year, it felt like a real celebration, something I wouldn’t normally do, something chilled but something that felt exciting because my expectations were low. That sounds like the old keep your expectations low and you’ll never be disappointed way of thinking. Which isn’t what I mean, I guess what I’m getting at is when you don’t put pressure on yourself to be ok, you might find that you enjoy yourself, or even better end up actually being OK.

New Year’s Day meant I ended up in the normal depressive spiral of fuck another year, I don’t want to, gross, why is everyone so happy? But by marking actually going out for New Years and attempting to celebrate there was respite from the negativity, a distraction and some fun in the midst of the chaos.