Hey, everyone. I don’t know if anyone still reads this, I don’t know if anyone ever did. Of course I was lying when I said that I didn’t want people to read it. But I was lying to myself too, if that makes it any better.
I remember, when I first started this blog, it’s because I was all high and mighty about all the teen blogs that had been discarded. “I can keep it up!” I thought. “If I can’t read one, I’ll write one!” The thing is, with teenage life, you have to have both spare time and motivation, and the two have to over lap. Motivation is hard to come by these days, and hell if I’m gonna waste my spare time writing about my problems to the internet. I’d rather ignore them.
It got really bad a little while ago. In February, I broke down crying because school kept talking about future and I just didn’t see one for myself. I was crying in my room when my sister walked in. She left when I yelled at her to, that I was fine. Of course she told mum, who walked in and kept trying to get me to tell her why I was upset. But, if I’m entirely honest, I didn’t know. I didn’t work out that my future or lack thereof was what made me feel like shit for another 3 months. I finally convinced her that I was fine, and for the next week I cried at least once every second day. After that, it was at least once a day. Then, it was at least once but often two. I considered suicide. A lot. When I crossed roads, I prayed to nonexistent or merciless gods that I would get hit by a car. All the while, I tried not to let on how bad I was to my family and friends. I don’t know why. I suppose because I didn’t want to depend on anyone, because I thought I couldn’t. It doesn’t matter. I can’t explain to you how bad that time was, how grey that world was. I had no anchors. I did sort out my religion though, or lack there of… Anyway I’m atheist, and proudly so.
Two weeks ago, the weekend before school came back from the midyear holidays, I had a panic attack. I’m not 100% sure that’s what it was, because I was alone. I can tell you that it was the worst feeling in the world. It was terrifying. I thought I was going to die, and I was scared. I think what brought it on was thinking about What if, when we die, we don’t just end? What if we get thrown into some endless void with nothing but our thoughts for company? No sight, no sound, no movement or feeling, just our consciousness floating through eternity. I don’t know about other people, but that thought makes me sick to the stomach with fear. In fact, there was more, but I’m so scared of bringing on another attack that I don’t dare. Anyway, it was so, so scary. It reached it’s peak around ten minutes in, and I slowly calmed down in the next ten minutes. During the attack, I finally admitted what I had been too scared to say for 6 months: I needed someone. I needed someone to depend on. I couldn’t be alone. It was awful, but I think it’s true. When I could breathe enough to get up briefly I grabbed my phone and looked up the symptoms of a panic attack. This was around midnight. I fit almost all of the symptoms and I was still having trouble breathing normally. I texted my friend, who answered. She helped me. Eventually I stopped shaking and I was just really tired, so I thanked her and said good night. I was trying to fall asleep when I realised: I like boys and girls. I’m bisexual.
I was on the bus with a friend, and we were talking about what sort of sciences were the best to take for the careers we wanted, despite the fact that it made me feel bad. I remember making a metal note to put up my music so my parents wouldn’t hear me when I got home. Then, a miracle happened. A very cute boy, about 21 years old, restored my faith in the existence of cute boys, humanity, and my own future. He helped me and my friend sort through all the shit schools shove down your throat about subjects and careers and all that shit. I decided that I want to do bio engineering. I never got his name. On the off chance he’s reading this, he was a third year bachelor of science student, let me say this: Thank you. I feel it isn’t an over-exaggeration to say that you saved my life. Of course life isn’t perfect, and school is still stressful, and the future is tough. But I can manage it, and it’s all thanks to you.
So, I guess life is starting to come together. It terrifies me. I’m sure it’s all going to go to crap. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, and every time I feel just blissfully peaceful, I get this quiet feeling in the back of my head, terror, that it will end, that I’ll have another panic attack the relapse will be so bad. But it’s been half a week and nothing so far, and the relapse generally happens within 48 hours.
Of course, I left out some details, like how I used escapism, and all the good moments within the bad, and things like that. But you can’t include everything in life. That would be a much longer post.
I don’t see myself posting on here again. I just wanted to put down, somewhere, what happened.
So, possibly for the last time, I leave you.