1.11am thoughts.

Back in the day, I had multiple blogs, but one stands out with a decade's worth of content. This new blog is solely dedicated to expressing my current emotions - maybe not the most riveting read for others, but sometimes you just need an outlet through writing. Lately, I've been carrying so much inside me that it's becoming overwhelming 

Dear Reader, 

Lately, things have not been going well for me. My life seems to have taken a nosedive into a pit of despair, and I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of troubles. It's not a pleasant feeling, but that's the reality of how I'm currently feeling. This isn't a new sensation; it's been a downward spiral for the past three years in terms of my mental health, with only two good years sandwiched between five terrible ones. It's becoming a recurring pattern in my life. I find myself unable to cope with stress, trauma, or heartbreak - any time I face adversity, it's like a switch flips and my sanity goes out the window. 

With each passing day, I am consumed by feelings of being lost. Isolated. Afraid. Anxious. Shattered. Depressed. Sad. Drained. Unworthy of love. Undeserving of affection. I see myself as exceptionally unattractive i don't have any of the attributes that society deems as 'attractive'... I don't have massive boobs, in fact, I don't have boobs, my face is wonky, and I am clearly aging a little too fast. I have terrible skin and 9 times out of 10, I dress like a boy!  My flaws are too many for anyone to ignore. I possess nothing substantial, and I am fully aware of this, otherwise, I would be content and have a partner who is ready, willing, patient, and capable to support me, but that is not the case. After three decades of dating, here I am at 48, alone. Single. 

Throughout my life, I have faced harsh judgments regarding my looks from different sources such as colleagues, strangers, customers, classmates, and even my ex-husband. The act of infidelity by former partners only solidified the belief that they sought a partner they considered more attractive and that really really hurt.

The depth of my emotional scars are quite profound. I question whether it is even feasible to restore the person I once was. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness consumes me entirely. Although I have a few individuals whom I consider friends, there is no one among them whom I can confide in regarding my present condition. I would never impose my burdens upon my family, and as for my friends, I wouldn't even contemplate sharing with them, as they would only see it as attention seeking, and believe me, this isn't something I would wish on my worst enemy. 

Waking up daily and experiencing a sense of dread when confronted with my reflection in the mirror, coupled with a prevailing feeling of being lost and anxious throughout the day, is something that nobody aspires to.

I have lost all interest in living.  I have lost all interest in anything.  Before my mental health took this drastic nosedive I was obsessed with reading, I read many books a week, and now, I have books stacked up that I can't even think of picking up.  

The decline was a result of my son's suicide attempt, which triggered severe PTSD that resurfaced in full force yesterday, leading to panic. Also, the end of my four-year relationship contributed to the situation. My borderline personality disorder makes it hard for me to deal with change, loss, and abandonment. The relationship ended because he wanted more and frequently told me, indicating that I fell short of his standards confirming what I have been told all my life, that I wasn't good enough. Despite the challenges from that relationship, therapy helped me resolve any lingering animosity towards him and I feel nothing anymore.  He is happy and living his best life and that is all I wanted for him.

So where am I now?  Contemplating life.  

The mental health team has told to me that my condition is too complex to be addressed through therapy. Despite investing heavily in private relationship trauma counseling and experimenting with various medications, such as an SSRI, Benzo, and antipsychotic, their efficacy in improving my current state is minimal. I find myself devoid of any viable options for assistance. The mental health team has essentially abandoned me, leaving me to navigate this overwhelming situation entirely on my own. I must confess that I feel ill-equipped to handle this immense burden. I am drained of all energy and motivation, with little purpose to continue, except for the presence of my son, who barely interacts with me, and my mother.

At 3am, I find myself sitting here, tears streaming down my face as the mental and emotional exhaustion overwhelms me. Dealing with a debilitating illness has taken its toll, and I simply cannot bear it any longer. The weight of this mental illness and being in this prison, after 25 years of enduring this torment, I am beyond weary. I long for wellness, but deep down, I doubt that fate has that in store for me. It seems as though my purpose on this earth is to endure suffering and die.

I apologise for such a negative start to this new online journal...but it's just how things are.