“Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”

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Everything has changed. I’m an entirely different person to what I was a year ago; to what I was when I first entered 2016. The story’s the same, the face is the same but everything feels different. I’ve always strived for some sort of happiness, to feel something more than numb. But what this year has shown me is no matter what, happiness is not a destination, but a journey. And perhaps a neverending journey, but with every piece of progress, with every ounce of confidence that I gain, I know I’m closer to what once felt impossible. I’m getting there and it sure feels good.

There’s a thousand things I want to do and I want to change, but for everything I’ve ever gone through, for ever decision I’ve ever made, I’m so glad that I’m here right now. There are days when all I want is to not exist, and those days of feeling nothing are still going to be a part of my life. But recently, those days have lessened and I’m reminded that there’s more to life than what it is right now. I got the chance to travel to Germany, to experience something amazing with the best people I could. I’ve got to write and write and write to my hearts content. At first, I thought that what I was doing in the present would be what I would end up doing forever, and I lost so much motivation because I could never see myself any different than a deadbeat. And whilst I still may not make it in a world where there are so many other talented people; where I can easily be brushed under the carpet and forgotten about, I might just have fun trying. I might be working a minimum-wage bar job with long hours with headaches that hurt the back of my eyes, but these eyes have so much more to see. So much more to appreciate.

Positivity doesn’t come to me that often. Especially not the type where I want to write it and show it because I know soon enough I’ll want to write how I want the earth to swallow me up. Some things won’t change, but the way you handle each situation and each downfall will get better. Everyone is fighting their own battle, but we fight it side by side.

Peace, xoalaskaar.

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Words don’t help my head

Writing. Putting words next to each other, hoping it makes sense to those who read it. Stick some punctuation in there and watch it all come together. Why doesn’t my head feel like it is together? I can write endless amounts of words and I can write none. Nothing I ever do will help me gather up these thoughts.

I’ve changed. Things are better. Life is better. Life is bad. Nothing changes. These thoughts that I once trailed away from and left on a dirt road have hitch-hiked it’s way back into my head. It hurts. I ache. No matter how much sense of it I want to make, I can’t. My head pounds endlessly, my arms and hands ache. I exist and sometimes I exist happily but there’s moments when I don’t want to. I left behind anti-depressants and started a journey towards happiness, I’ve reached that happiness in many ways, but here I am. Just existing. Things go wrong, people throw what I’ve tried so hard to leave behind back in my face and I’m back at step one. It triggers a lot of emotions I don’t want to feel. It triggers a numbness. It triggers a lack of care. It hurts.

Sometimes I think that it would be better if I wasn’t around. Sometimes I think that selfishly, I want to be around to feel the happiness that people give me. My boyfriend. Sweet and lovely and unselfish. Inspiration to be a better person. My friends; lively and happy and no looming thunder clouds. My brother. Perfect in every single way. I want to be a better person. It doesn’t make sense. Constantly bad and constantly hidden. Sometimes it would be better if I wasn’t around.

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Loneliness isn’t the problem, but finding the right help is.

Despite the rising awareness of mental health conditions, they are still disregarded and swept under the rug more times than not. There are still people wondering what to do and who to turn to when all else has failed – and failing can be a part of the end problem that’s ultimately tearing you up. No person should be expected – or belittled – for opening up to their emotions and feelings and admitting what’s really going on. Admitting to what feels like a weakness is already a difficult task, and admitting that weakness out loud shouldn’t feel like a joke. A person shouldn’t be made to feel ridiculous, dramatic, hopeless and they should not be made to feel alone. A person goes through an abundance of stages and emotions before they finally pluck up the courage to talk about it – so why should they feel that in the end, it was the worst idea they could have done?

There’s the exaggerated happiness, the forcing yourself and others around you to believe that happy and fine. The indecisive motivation telling you that you need to get up and do something, but you could wait a day or two to get that done. Locking yourself away at certain times just because it all gets too much and therefore snapping when someone tries to invade your space. The easily irritated, pushing the best of people in your life away. Dealing with it in your own way, writing to a blank piece of paper that cannot talk, that will soak up the sink and leave you yet again stranded in your own mind. Seeing friends but feeling guilty when you feel more of a downer than a bundle of joy. You get the point, a person has to deal with a lot of things before they finally open their mouth as a plea for help and being shut down at the end of it – to be disregarded as if a family had just reconsidered their decision to adopt a puppy. It’s only confirming what they already thought; that they have to go through this alone otherwise they deal with the consequences of being looked down upon, to be told that they’re over dramatic. It doesn’t just stop because it was an inconvenience for someone, we’ll just go back to pretending that we’re okay just so they can’t get ridiculed again.

People feel this way for different reasons, and it’s unfair to be judged about your own situation compared to someone else’s. Oh, I see, you’ve been through worse, so that’s why I cannot feel the way I do and ask for your help because you deem me unworthy of such compassion? Well shucks, here’s a medal and a one-way ticket to “Get-So-Far-Away-From-Me.” It doesn’t matter if you’re feeling the way you do because you’ve had a string of unfortunate events happen to you throughout your life or if you’re recently going through a rough patch, you are entitled to feel the way you do and do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

There are still too many of us finding the way out in all the wrong places. Loneliness isn’t the problem, but finding the right help is.

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