It’s Ok To Not Be Ok.

 

I’m ok. I just want to drink.

I’m ok. I just like smoking. 

I’m ok. I’m just doing drugs because I want to be high. 

I’m fine. Seriously. 

     The truth of the matter is…I’m far beyond “fine.” I’ve been telling these lies to everyone but, most importantly, I’ve been telling these lies to myself. Today was the culmination of these lies hitting me so hard that I actually felt physical repercussions because of them. I should be happy. Why not? I’m working hard at my job whilst taking care of my mom. Don’t have the wife and kids thing to worry about so I can focus on me. My relationship with my father isn’t the best but we still speak from time to time. The same goes for my siblings. I literally am “okay” in the sense that I’m not living in squalor but the truth remains and the truth is…I am not happy. 

     I am not happy and I haven’t been for quite sometime. Moreover, for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. This misery has me in its clutches and I cannot break free. Oftentimes, I put on my mask. My smiley face can and has convinced many a person that I am not miserable all the time. I try to suppress this misery as best I can through the use (and abuse) of drugs and alcohol along with what seems to the untrained eye as selflessness when I help someone else with their particular problem(s). Doing that actually feels good. I enjoy helping others with every fiber of my being until I realize the blatant lie I’m projecting when I'm doing so only to drown out my own despair. Normally, I wouldn't care about being an advocate of a drug free lifestyle either but yesterday was the first time in a long time that I was purposely trying to use illicit substances to drown out my own miseries. Sorrows that I long thought dormant and buried away. (Let's face it. We never truly get rid of sadness, do we?) I hate this. Here I was thinking I was recovering from past trauma and now I find out that I haven't even come close to being past it. 

     Holy shit! That was scary. Shoutout to Mr. 201 and Tri for being there for me and letting me hug that misery out and cry on their shoulders. I know, if you're reading this and consider me a friend, you too would have been there for me. So, relax. I don't hold it against you. However, this little episode of severe depression is a lesson to us all. CHECK ON YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY! Especially the strong ones. They're the ones who need a hug or to be taken care of more than you can imagine. As for me, ok. I'll admit it. To all of you who have been telling me for years, even those of you whom I no longer speak to (and swear that they aren't reading this), that I need professional help... you win. I wholeheartedly agree. Rest assured I'm taking steps to do so. Normally I wouldn't update anyone and keep any progress or regressions from here on out close to the chest but I'm starting to see that as counterproductive and one of the reasons why I trigger these episodes in my life. I don't share. I use people not asking about me as an excuse. It's just another wall, isn't it? I have to tear it down. I have to tear them all down until I find my path back into the light again.