I’ve started to question my abilities and strengths, and I need a break from that.
I love blogging. It’s one of those life-changing experiences I’ll cherish forever. I’ve been honest in every post, in every word or letter I’ve fully given my best. Writing is something that helps me convey my feelings and emotions and as I need a form of discharge of any kind of frustration, writing is all I need. And as much as I love that, something in my heart stops me. Something that pulls me back or throws me off the track, and I get so confused about why it happens. It’s like I’m having so much to share yet I can’t entirely allow myself to be heard or read about. I feel so caught up in anxiety and I’ve gotten into my own head in the past couple of months.
I opened up to a few people about my problems, besides family, who I thought knew me and will understand me. One thing about being naive is that you make wrong choices in everything, which takes a toll on yourself. That is what happened with me; again and again, and again and again. I can’t describe that feeling of helplessness and anger when you confide in someone so deeply and they judge you brutally and call you out with names that you never expected to hear about yourself. It happened a long time ago, but there is still a big hole in my heart that remains adamant. Now that I’ve closed that chapter of my life and I’m ready to open a new one, I can still feel that void getting deeper and emptier. I haven’t attended the new session of school which started in April, because I’ve left the old school but haven’t enrolled in a new one, I’m totally housebound and I guess that is why I’m overthinking and panicking about my decisions being accurate or not. I have so much to think out, my future and my career, and it scares the hell out of me.
Now that I’m trying to be more honest with my family, with whom I’ve started to spend most of my time with, I end up being offensive and rude, which makes me feel so pathetic later on. I can’t go to anyone and say, “Hey, I want to talk.” and risk being laughed at yet again. I can’t fully explain my condition to my family unless they reach out to me as I’m just too shy to say and no matter what hints I have given, no one seems to catch them and in fact makes things ten times worse. I don’t need a therapist to attend, because this is something that I have to understand myself. My depression and anxiety has to be understood before I hand over my situation to anyone at all. I’m even afraid to write a journal, and I feel that if I actually want to share my feelings while keeping them private and figuring things out, it is the best possible way. But something repeatedly stops me. I have a constant writer’s block, and sometimes I push past it and try to write again. Some things even pulled me back while writing this post. I tried as hard as I could to reveal not too much or too less. I feel insecure about my words as well as worried that they might turn out to give very wrong impressions like they usually do.
This took me a lot of courage to write about. One thing about this phase, as I’ve assumed, is that if I got out of worse situations in life before, this is a piece of cheesecake with a cherry on top. The only thing I’m concerned about is what should I start with, so as I’m a half-open book at this point, let me know if you have any advice for me and I’ll be delighted to hear from you.
Love, Anchal. ❤❤❤❤❤❤
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