My heart is fluttering around and I feel like I have too much energy but yet I feel exhausted at the same time. My eyes are now nipping from the tears and my body shaking from the cold temperatures creeping in the window, yet I stare out of it continuing to cry. And I don't even want to stop.
At parts, I sob thoroughly into my arms to let it out as quietly as possible, allowing it to overcome me so much that I think about just throwing myself out of the window but, of course, I would never do that. So I compose myself and allow the tears to fall silently and lonely down my cheeks. At one point I stop but my body still shakes and my heart still flutters, making me quite unsure if I am about to cry again or not.
I guess a lot of people get depressed around Christmas but my problems are not stemming from the time of year but from my past in general. I try really hard to let it go and overcome the past but it haunts me, especially when I sleep. Even when I think I am doing well consciously, my subconscious is preparing a night of realistic nightmare situations with reminders that, in fact, the past is not far behind me. In the scarce of the nightmares I can feel my heart thud against my chest and the panic begin to set in. They are so real.
Sometimes I see my dad in them and I am so convinced I'm awake I ask him how he managed to come back to life. Most of the time I dream of old friends I used to have, ones I fell away from during one of my dark periods. Friends I miss but who do not miss me. My most recent conversation with two of them reminded me that they are better without me and that I brought all the drama. Perhaps it is true. Perhaps I did. And now, most of my nightmares are of them telling me such things or the nightmare is waking up and realising we did not patch things up like in my head. Then again, I sometimes dream of my living family who I don't see-mostly my mum and sister. In these dreams, I am trying to get my mum to tell the truth and admit things that she lied about. I try to make her regret that what she did cost her the relationship we could have had but, like in real life, her pride and alcohol is worth a lot more than me.
The dreams can become so real at times that I wake up crying and shaking. In fact, even if I have no physical reaction, I can have a worse mental reaction. I find it particularly difficult to get over the dreams for at least the whole day and they can affect my mood intensely.
I used to have a repeating nightmare when I was younger. It would start with my mum, sister and myself in a beautiful garden centre with the sun beating through the glass roof. It was warm and mesmerising and we'd all be having a great time. Then, all of a sudden, the storm clouds would start rolling in and my mum would bolt out of the place, leaving my sister and I behind to fend for ourselves. Even to this day, years after last having that dream, I have the clear image of watching my mum running away and leaving us, as if it were real. As if it were a memory rather than a concoction made in my head. This dream started when I was in primary at about eight years old and continued to haunt my sleeps for years after. I guess it isn't surprising that I dreamed of my mum leaving me behind considering I never felt like she liked me, never mind loved me. Spending time with myself and my sister was something she had to force herself to do and it just continuously felt as if I was a burden and a mistake.
In fact, one time, she told me, whilst she was drunk, that my dad had raped her and I was the result of that. The worst part of hearing that? I knew she was lying. My parents had been together for a couple of years before having me, which, was at a very young age of 17 for my mum. And, at least from the photos, they seemed pretty happy, happy enough to have a second child, my little sister. This is the reason I knew she was lying. What I didn't know was why she felt the need to tell me such lies. I still don't understand. Ironically, my old friends, that I mentioned previously, told me I was a drama queen and an attention seeker. The truth is, I was. I was a drama queen because drama was all I knew. My mum loves drama, even some she caused or imagined and she was very happy to include her young daughters in it. And the attention seeking? Well I wanted attention. I wanted everyone to like me and be popular. I just wanted to feel wanted, so much so, that I'd continuously tell white lies about my life to make it sound better. I'd also change my opinions and beliefs to match the majority like a little sheep just wanting to be accepted by its flock. The funny thing? I never was. Part of me is grateful I wasn't because then I wouldn't be who I am today and, even with the anxiety and depression, I know I am a nice person and I try to be a better person every single day of my life. And it was worth the bullying in school but that's a topic I will talk about another night. For now, I am starting to feel sleepy, finally. Fingers crossed for a dreamless sleep.
