My best friend’s face gave me strength. It made me smile and gave me the ability to get my work done. So, I handed in a dissertation. I honestly did not think it was something that would be possible. Running a marathon is easy. You just get to run away from your thoughts and keep the endorphins coming. Sitting still to think long enough to write 10,000 words and not expect the bad thoughts to catch up to you. That is what I call a challenge. So many people could not understand that, but when my brain is tired and working, it becomes weak. When my body is drained, I remain mentally strong. I can take the physical pain, but not the emotional.
It all catches up to you. Sooner or later. You become weak, drained of all your mental strength. I think that is what studying does to my brain. It is so frazzled right now that I cannot cope. The emptiness is coming back. The badness is getting in. Add to that saying goodbye to your best friend and not knowing the next time you will see her and I think it is about time for a full blown meltdown. I am expecting it any second.
I will be fine though. I get to see the Early Intervention in Psychosis team. The Western world does have its benefits of being able to cure you, even though I am fairly sure it is what broke me in the first place. I am about ready to run away at this point.
I can honestly say that I want to protest against birthdays. They should not exist. They are a painful experience of all eyes on you and all your flaws showing, when your parents cannot even pick up the phone to call. It is the time when I want to cry most, when I feel most unloved. It was my reminder every year that I am not like other children. That I only get things if I deserve them and most of the time I was never good enough.
People think it is working too hard or times of crises that cause mental breakdowns. I think for me, I am weakest and most vulnerable in times of joy. I do not know what joy is. I do not know how to experience it. How to live without the pain. I cannot be proud or happy or feel I deserve love, because these things have been ripped out of me.
I think that is why I am most terrified of adulthood or real life, that is why I hate societal structures. I am not ready, I am not equipped. So now what, I have a birthday and I am magically older and wiser. Really, I am just marking the survival of another year with a pain in my heart that says why did you have to make it, could you not have experienced some tragic disaster that wiped you out instead. Instead, still here, still breathing, still coping and still unaware how or what or why. So thank you for that, I guess. Thank you for another year of survival, because it was not life, it was merely coping.