Unrequited, pt.4

Have you been stuck in a routine of substance abuse in the hopes that it would mask the way you’re truly feeling? I felt like that was me, with alcohol and cigarettes. I still consider myself an innocent being who doesn’t know the difference between what drug is what. I dabbled a little in marijuana, especially in my high school days, but to be completely honest with you, now I just don’t like the buzz (but I totally believe in it for medical reasons and hemp for environmental purposes). So alcohol and cigarettes it was. I was hooked, for me it was a social thing but also a way to release stress and anxiety but I found myself even worse off for it.

They say that cigarettes are supposed to help with anxiety and my thoughts believed that to be true. With every puff, every inhalation, I felt more at peace when I was having an attack. But studies show that it does more worse than good. I know that this article is rather old, but it’s a goodie. All I’m saying is there are healthier things to invest your time in – I know, I’ve been there, done that. Yoga helped me, walks and outdoor adventures helped too. It’s always good having someone to motivate you or keep you accountable so that you both can get out and about and have fun together. It does take a while to break the habits but it is possible. I’m living proof.

After graduating uni I got a job at a local hip restaurant and ice-cream shop before landing a job with a beauty subscription service as a personal assistant – working from home and putting together beauty giveaways, writing blog articles and managing our social influencers, among other things. This left me inactive, waking up just 5 minutes before I needed to work, grabbing my laptop from my bedroom floor and starting for the day. No exercise was involved and there was a bunch of overeating. Even though I loved the work that I did, this wasn’t a healthy environment. I started to feel trapped again, stuck in a room with my thoughts and not wanting to socialise as much as I normally would. So I continued drinking and going out with the girls. I was getting older too you see so this was not where I wanted to be at age 25.

It was time to start sorting my life out and get back on track. First was to remove myself from the environment I was in. I guess me moving out of my flat was more about thinking with my emotions rather than with my head; impetuous and melodramatic. I clashed a little with one of my flatmates, the two girls I lived with were my good friends – even though this caused a huge rift between us. Things were said from both ends but I apologised on my part – as I normally do because I hate having things left unsettled, that’s just the ENFJ in me (Myers Briggs Personality Test – look it up). So I decided to move in with my brother for a couple of months before moving into a home of my own with my partner at the time. There’s something about living somewhere for a while before that place fills up with intangible notes of depression. Just like the taste of red bull and cigarettes which reminded me of the lowest points in my life, so did places that I lived in/visited when I was having bad attacks and very low days. It was a constant reminder of feelings of self-harm and suicide that I’d rather leave behind.

I don’t know about you, but I hated flatting, something always ends up going wrong. When I lived up in Auckland, I felt like I was being too dependent on my flatmates – who were basically like my family at one point in time. So when flatting with the girls in Hamilton, I tried to isolate myself in my room when I was feeling crappy. I HATE and I don’t say that lightly, being a burden on people. Absolutely dislike it with every breath inside of me, but still friendships diminish and I’m left wondering what I did wrong. In reality, they never tell me and this has happened on two separate occasions. It’s the whole “I’m intimidated by you so we won’t bring it all back up” or “I know you have a mental illness but…” scenario. For me there’s never any closure from it, this is a constant up-hill battle in my mind – even to this day. And I’m the one having to live with it.

Being in a place that I can finally call home was peaceful; not feeling bad if you wanted to be anti-social and watch TV series in your room or if you hadn’t cleaned the house to their standards or skipped a week because work had been taking it out of you. Or being called names as a sign of affection when you’re not having a good day and being a little sensitive squirrel who takes things to heart. I’m a cancer okay, I’m overly-emotional and super-sensitive, so sue me. Being picked on because of this is also not a fun time. When I look back on situations, I see that things could have been a whole lot better if someone wasn’t speaking in my ear. But that’s the thing with mental health – you sometimes find it hard to think for yourself, and when someone you love speaks into your life about anything and everything – you end up believing their every word. Your thoughts get distorted by others view of situations. It’s a weird feeling that. But you live and you learn and I suppose in a lot of ways you’re better off for all of those learning experiences.

Who else knows that feeling? Of being so lost with who you actually are, that any external factors or opinions can distort what you would actually do, feel and think? If so, share us your story. Email us at hello@theheartchain.co.nz , we would love to hear your thoughts and real-life experiences.

Read Unrequited pt.3 here.