Circular Mind | A Poetic Representation of My Mental Health

You hate me
Because I said the one thing that made you
"I'm sorry; forgive me," I gasp,
I should staple my mouth shut with a silver clasp
When I said no words-
And that is why
You hate me.

You laugh at me,
With my soul as pure as steel,
My spider's web of broken feelings-
I know this because I hear it,
In my mind,
You as I cry.
That is the reason why
You laugh at me.

You lie to me,
Twisted, words falling from your lips
A lie to satisfy the terror which rips
At me – you don't care,
The creeping fingers of doubt
Claw at me
So it must be that
You lie to me.

I am fake,
I must be happy
If the tears do not fall constantly
My mind conniving, scheming
Because I must be fine
Even when my soul pines
For help-
But no, shut it down because
I am fake.

I cannot think
I cannot feel,
When my mind screams that
Not one thing I think is real-
I collapse, pieces of me
And so I know that
My thoughts run in endless circles.
I cannot

Sometimes, the only way to get my thoughts out is through poetry. This is a short poem but to me, it illustrates how I sometimes feel and think – such as the thoughts that go through my head. I wanted to show, in my writing, that I know these thoughts to be irrational and not based off concrete evidence.

If you ever feel like this, I understand a little of how it is. It's not wrong to want to seek help for feelings of anxiety that you may experience. Feeling anxious or paranoid shouldn't be labelled as attention-seeking – they're very real feelings that affect you; it's okay to accept those as fact. It isn't always just a "phase" or something to "get over".

I'll always be here to talk if you need it.

Love from Elm ๐Ÿ™‚

My Mind’s a Bully to my Heart

Do you, after literally the tiniest thing, get paranoid that you’ve completely neglected your friends, not been attentive enough, think they hate you, that everyone hates you and then you start questioning all of the stupid lies and shit you got yourself into? No? I do – I am – and it’s annoying.

I have these “you’ve been a terrible friend” moments regularly, but they stopped recently as my mental health improved. After the good day I had, I’m sad that this has returned, because now I feel sick with myself, I’m shaking and trying to convince myself that no, I’m not an awful person and people don’t despise me. Why do I even have to do this to let my mind be at rest? Far be it for me to scream it’s unfair, but I just wish I wouldn’t second guess every decision I made and then get hit with the reality that I’ve been floating along with the world and not being proactive in helping people.

Maybe writing about it will help, because I’m no longer entirely honest about my feelings on this blog. That makes me upset – that I’d be so worried and fucking paranoid at everything that I’d censor myself, try and block it out just so I won’t make people worry about me. If people worry they worry, but this is my outlet and always has been; it’s what calms me down and lifts me back up.

Occasionally I just wonder why I don’t give up with trying to do anything when all I seem to do is make people angry, or shut people out. Either because I won’t tell them what’s wrong, or I push other people to tell me what’s wrong when they don’t want to. In my mind, I’m trying to be helpful or I’m hoping to allow them to open up, but in truth it’s just pushy, clingy and makes people think I won’t leave them alone. I used to be the one who would go out of their way to reach a hand out to people and now, all I do is get pathetically sad when people don’t want to tell me things because oooh, obviously, I’m just soo approachable.

That whole thing – about forcing people, attempting to be well-meaning but actually being intensely annoying, makes me have a less than positive opinion of myself. I’m trembling now because I’m finally figuring it out and I don’t want this opportunity to go to waste.

It makes me draw away from people, slowly – either that or because I get overwhelmed at all the things I have to do, such as work, blogging and everything else. Balancing friendships – that makes it sound like a chore but it isn’t – has become increasingly difficult as I get paranoid that if I pay attention to one friend, I’ll forget about the others and not talk to them when they need me. That, right there, is the root of the matter: I’m worried that people think I don’t care about them because I don’t reach out to them which is because I have distanced myself from everyone, when I do care so much.

I’m too harsh sometimes. I become sad and clingy, and then make people feel guilty. I’m confused, about both my feelings and my actions as well as what to do about them, yet one thing remains certain.

I care about people but I don’t express that well sometimes. If I can hold onto as many friendships as possible, I won’t feel so bad about talking to said people because they’d know I love them. I don’t want to live a life where I’m constantly terrified that I’m not helping people enough, where my heart beats violently because I’m just not as good as I could be, and people don’t trust me. I’ll always feel disgusting for not talking to people and letting friendships fall apart but I can’t let it be all-consuming.

All of this has made me exhausted and I’m half-crying with how my mind’s twisting all of my thoughts to tell me to stop talking, to sob until I feel ill and to tell everyone, “I’m fine, leave me alone; you have your own damn life!” I don’t want to be someone who can’t love because they’re too afraid and I don’t want to be untrustworthy. I’m scared, my heart hurts and I don’t know what I’m either feeling or thinking, but I have to get through it to be a better person.

This post made no sense, but it was an explosion of thoughts. I’ve tried to work through it in my head, but I can’t because if I’m left alone with my thoughts they’ll batter at me until I want to burn everything, so the only other option was to write them down.

The conclusion here? I feel like I’m neglecting everyone including myself, that people don’t trust me or like me because I don’t devote enough time into proving I DO care but that’s just my paranoia. I may want to punch myself but I won’t because my brain won’t triumph again with its stupidly negative thoughts.

I’m still petrified, though. What if I mess up and none of this writing goes in? What if I continue to be an unfeeling wreck? Oh, this will just remind me I have emotions, and it’s okay to have emotions.

From Elm ๐Ÿ™‚

Unleashing My Paranoia

I’ve been in a constant state of paranoia all day. Heart pumping, eyes staring into nothing, limbs feeling cold, and my head running through all of the worst possibilities. It all stems from something that happened yesterday, which I wish I could talk about, but that’s what comes with showing your blog to people who know you in real life. Luckily, I’m not bitter about THAT.

I thought, to make me feel better and to clear my head from some of these screaming thoughts, I’d write it down. How I feel, my worries, how my mindset was pinging back and forth all day – as much as I can. I’m sorry in advance; you know I love you guys and wouldn’t subject you to this shit if you didn’t want to read it.

Instead of my usual, shrieking/ranty posts, I thought I’d be a bit rebellious – erm, I mean DIFFERENT. I’ll write the thoughts in a list, and then a tiny explanation, so that you can get inside my head a little.

In No Particular Order: Elm’s Paranoid, and Nonsensical, Thoughts Throughout the Day:

They don’t actually give a shit, you know that right?
I seemed to have got it into my head that nobody cared about me, and that I was a worthless piece of crap. I was sitting there, not talking to anyone and letting those awful thoughts wash over me, convincing myself that I was right and that I might as well give up on trying to be friendly or anything. Then, I kicked myself into shape and realised that was bullshit – even if people don’t care, I should always be friendly and kind to people, because that’s just in my nature.

Oh well done – you thought you could walk in a straight line by yourself?!
We had Prizegiving rehearsal today. On top of stressing about what I’ll wear tomorrow, we had to go up and get our prize (well it wasn’t there then but it will be tomorrow). I decided it was a fantastic idea to do it myself: a girl took me to the start of where we had to walk, and I just… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see the teacher at all, got confused, and I’ve never felt that humiliated because it was with SO many of the other students. It was like I was a child, stupid, not able to do anything all over again and it frustrated me, as I could almost imagine the pitying gazes and the “awww look she’s doing it by herself!” stuff I often get from people that don’t know me.

You will never ever be good enough. Ever. Deal with it.
There is this girl. She always seems to have what I have but better, do what I do but BETTER, and like what I like but… Better, and have more access to it (that makes it sound like a museum WOW). It’s the one thing I resent, the one thing that makes me want to sob in a corner until my skin turns to tears. It’s simple jealousy, but it’s been magnified and twisted: I can’t even hate her because she’s a lovely person and I hope she’ll be really happy because she deserves it more than anyone I know. But because of it, I’ve been feeling inadequate and like I am literally nothing, like I’m just a second, a hut compared to a mansion. Oh well – it’ll pass. It’s rather petty and pathetic.

You’re just pretending, you fake bitch
Then, I told myself nothing about me was genuine. That I was just floating along, not showing anyone my true self. Hiding, conniving, being awful; my mind doesn’t work in rational ways sometimes which is why I thought THAT. Not even smiling with my friends made it any better, because I then told myself that I shouldn’t be smiling, then that I SHOULD because it’s better to pretend you’re fucking happy. After that was when the “you’re fake” thoughts bombarded my brain.

It’s going to happen, so you might as well prepare yourself
But god it hurts. This is related to what happened yesterday, and my mind has been howling about it for the last 12 hours and I just can’t. Without explaining anything, I’ll summarise how I feel:
1. It’s no one’s fault
2. I don’t blame anyone
3. I will probably get hurt, but that’s life and I’ll eventually learn to deal with it
4. But I don’t want to and I just want everyone to be happy, and if that means me not being happy then I’m honestly alright with that

And this is the root of the problem, isn’t it? This THING, that realistically, I should accept and yes: I’m not angry, but I’m sad. I don’t like things potentially going to shit. Who knows, though? I have to trust myself, trust the people who mean the most to me, and trust that the people I DON’t know so well won’t indirectly hurt me.

It hasn’t happened yet, but it might. It could, and I hate it, but what CAN I do? Apart from be cryptic and not make sense, that is.

Here’s another point to add to the list: as always, I’m scared that writing this post is too much. That people will read it and feel guilty, and I don’t want that. It wouldn’t be fair, but I’m doing it anyway.

No. I’m doing this for ME, to prove I can be okay, and to prove I still have a voice. Over the last year, I’ve become someone who accepts situations after trying to understand them, and I’m proud of myself for that. However, if people do read this and notice what I’m implying (congrats if you do because only two people know the full story and one of them’s me), I want you to know that I will be fine. It may not seem like it, but a lot of the bitterness and sadness has been leeched out by this post, as funny as that is.

I’m just one girl in one situation. What I have to do is carry on with my life, loving who I want and feeling as happy as I can, no matter what will come my way. Because screw getting knocked down over and over. Damn jealousy and all its sisters, and an extra-special PISS OFF to bitterness.

I won’t fight BACK; I’ll just keep on existing and if that’s not good enough, I’ll make it good enough. Paranoia hurts and it cycles through my brain all the time, but it’s not very bad.

I’m not in the habit of making things out to be worse than they are. As much as I’m not the best right now, I know that I’ll pick myself up. I’m still stable, still solid in my friendships and relationship, still OKAY.

If you ever feel paranoid, or feel how I’m feeling now, do talk to someone. Don’t let yourself feel lonely when you’re surrounded by people, or quiet in a sea of noise.

I don’t feel great. I still feel as if I’m not much, despite everyone trying to tell me I matter to them. It’s part of my personality, that I don’t believe people until they say it over and over, which seems needy.

Sorry that this post is so disjointed and jumbled; it’s mainly for me – but it’s also for you to understand me more.

Oh, who cares? I’ll just live for once.

Love from Elm ๐Ÿ™‚

Finally Realising I’m Useful to People

This morning, Birch called me an absolute ledge. After choking on my laughter, wiping tears from my eyes and finally being able to breathe properly, I felt mystified. I’ve never been called a ledge before – short for legend, not the window ledge kind of thing. Because who wants to be compared to a piece of building?

To be fair, I was helping him out with history homework – like I’ve been doing for the past two years. It’s become almost a routine, broken by the holidays and any periods of not talking. I thought he thought he was too cool to ask me for help this year, because even though we’re in the same history class and he sits a seat away from me, I thought that he could ask anyone else. That I was literally nothing to him: too weird, too outside, too ANYTHING. That he’d forgotten the laughter we used to share, the conversations and the knowledge that we we weren’t quite friends, but we wouldn’t stand by if the other needed help.

Then again, why WOULD he have voluntarily sat near me if he thought I was a moron? Maybe it was a coincidence, but I think that even he would have felt a bit weird to break the routine of sitting near each other in history. Him asking me for help this morning was a jolt back to the past, where I thought that him doing that was something more when it was just him needing my help with academics. I’m not kidding myself now: it is what it is, and there are no illusions of him wanting to hang out with me after class. It might seem cruel for him to “use” me, but I – for some reason – feel secure when he asks for help? I don’t need his validation, but for someone to want to ask me for help is nice. Indirectly, he’s showing me I’m of some value to him. Even if it is for homework, it’s something; I’m the person he goes to.

That message sent me on a path of thought, where I asked myself if I WAS – and ever had been – useful to people. Useful friendship-wise, but just also resource-wise; I prefer the former, but the latter makes me feel worth something and I need all the reassurance I can get on that front because I’m an insecure pebble sometimes. To some people, they might be bitter at being wanted for shit like homework er academic advice; I used to ask myself if that was all I was good for, but in the end it makes me feel intelligent and like I’m trusted to HELP people if they’re struggling with work.

Being wanted for advice is a great thing. I don’t crave it as I once did – if I feel like nobody trusts me, I DO lock myself into a loop of feeling I’m worthless, but I pick myself up in the end. But a simple request from someone if they want to talk is one of the best feelings, because they’re showing me that they can trust me. That I’m good enough at giving advice that they’d come to me with their issues. Wren, Willow, Red, Odd or whoever: I feel like I’m properly doing something when I help someone with anything they need.

You guys have let me see that I can do things, too. Thinking I’m not a horrific person isn’t arrogant. In the Blogosphere, people trust me enough to ask advice from me, or to appreciate my words. I can shriek about my love life, or ramble about nonsensical shit, and you STILL put up with me. Friends who I’ve made here talk to me, and let me help them – with blogging, with real life, and it doesn’t make me feel like the clunky useless thing I used to feel like.

Actually making me believe I’m not just a thing that people could do without is another matter. It took S – my boyfriend – a rather long time to convince me I mean more than something to him. I still get a bit paranoid, but I get paranoid with everybody: it’s not bad, but it’s bad enough to make me question who gives a crap about me. S has shown me time and time again that he does, in fact, value my advice; he doesn’t just SAY that my advice is good but he takes it and thanks me for it. For some reason, that was a novelty for me. I’m not used to it.

Yeah, I matter to a lot of people, even if in the smallest way. My new friend in French values me because I spoke to her when she first started. The person I met at the LGBTQ+ club cared about me because I talked with her about loads of things when I could have spoken to my regular friendship group. A girl outside my form looked at me differently because my conversation was intelligent, and I didn’t just stare at the ground as I’m prone to do.

Of course, my friends think I’m reasonably okay. Alright, they think I’m nice and all that but shhh, I’m trying to be modest! They are all wonderful, and I think I’m crashing my way into believing that I’m not just a spare part to them.

Birch let me realise that it’s not just my close friends that care. It’s other people, in the littlest of ways; I’ll take all that I can get. I’ll be all that I can to as many people as I can, even if that’s just a fleeting glance or the thought that I, of all people, could help them.

Do you think YOU matter to a lot of people? If not, then try listing all the people that care about you, in ANY capacity. You’ll be surprised, because sometimes, caring’s not just about trusting implicitly. It can simply be a smile to someone who thinks that they don’t deserve one.

Screw being a spare part. I can be a whole fucking machine if I want to.

From Elm ๐Ÿ™‚

The Curse of the 19th

Yeah, I know I posted half an hour ago, but… I mean I won’t be posting for over a week! I need to make up for lost time.

I got spurred on to do this by Katelyn who said, correctly, that I’d mentioned in a previous post about how many things have happened to me on the 19th.

And what’s the date today, kids? THAT’s RIGHT! It’s the 19th! So, here we go:

This isn’t a LONG list, but it has set my paranoia off:

19 November 2011: I was asked out by my first boyfriend, who was a complete twat. Remind me why I said yes to him?!

19 July 2013: I said yes to going out with my second boyfriend (he’d asked me out the previous day via a note). THAT relationship ended badly, so I view that day with a LOT of… Pain?

19 June 2014: when I came out to myself as bi, which caused me a lot of bad things afterwards.

19 November 2014: when I came out to Ash as bi. He was SO supportive, and that’s what’s painful.

19 March 2015: when Ash got back in contact with me after a VERY long period of silence. And I look back on that day with really horrible sadness.

It may only be 5 little things by there are probably more if I try to remember even more), but it’s caused me to view this day with suspicion. Or, maybe, paranoia. It might seem stupid, but one of my favourite phrases is: “ARGH! Everything happens on the 19th…”

Hope you enjoyed!