The Story Of My Life

Rant

Ay it's been a minute since I've updated and I thought of this earlier today but forgot abt it til now. It's 10:00 on September 15, 2019, it's a Sunday and I've been trying to sleep bc school tmrw right but of course at this point we all know I do my best thinking when it's most inconvenient.
So I was thinking about mental health a lot lately. I thought mostly abt the misconceptions of abled ppl. I find my mental illnesses to be chronic, it took awhile for me to figure it out, mostly bc I never had the energy to think abt it too much, but looking back it's pretty obvious that it is. Now just because it's chronic doesn't mean I can't have good days. Abled ppl seem to think we're faking a good day or faking all the bad days or seeking attention or whatever. For me personally, even on my absolute best days I can still feel my illnesses stalking me like a demon hiding in a shadowed corner; it's barely visible, and you can try to ignore it (and with the right distractions you sometimes can) but you'll always know it's there, feel its presence and burning gaze that holds some dark and sinister promise.
I'm gonna be honest I had a lot more detailed things planned out earlier but I can't remember. I know it was something about the stigma surrounding mental illnesses and basically anything chronic.
Sometimes I get low and have moments where a piece of knowledge finally clicks and I feel everything. I realize that I have these chronic illnesses that can't be fixed, that I'll have to live with until I die. I get realizations that someday I'll be forced to fend for myself and not be able to. The only good thing about being my age is that it's still mostly acceptable to stay in your room most of the time, sleeping, browsing the internet and eating; all without spending a dime. Sometimes I think about everything I'll need just to live and everything that'll cost me. I have literal anxiety attacks from the thought of everything I'll have to do when I graduate. I used to have such big plans; like I've said before, I was raised to achieve great things. At this point I'll be lucky to get a job at a gas station or something. Minimum wage won't pay for everything I need.
I remember years ago, I was maybe 8 or 9 at the time, my mom and step dad were ranting about how my dad lived with his parents at like, 34, and how he should have his own place and how that's unacceptable (he had a place when he was still married to my mom idk why he moved back in with them but he did get his own place about 4-5 years ago). They told me I must never be like that and the oldest that'd be acceptable to rely on them would be like, 20 or something. I was young, naive, and my illnesses hadn't blossomed yet. I thought it'd be easy. I forgot about that day until now. I have no idea what I'm gonna do. I'll be kicked out eventually, even if by some miracle they don't, nothing lasts forever. They'll retire and pass on eventually and I doubt my siblings would be any help. No matter what happens I'm gonna be fending for myself at some point. I can only hope I don't have to see those days.
Sometimes I think about how I can't see my future. As a kid I thought I saw it clearly; turns out it was just childish fantasies. They lasted until about 7 months ago. I guess fantasies helped me cope then, but they just make it worse now. Everything I need to even have a future will never happen. My painted on smile died years ago; now it's weak and doesn't come out often. I used to be strong, so good at faking it and keeping everything inside. Now the best I can do is save my energy through the day so when I get home from school I have enough to smile and say "it was good.". I stay in my room as often as possible to avoid using more energy than I have to give. Everything gives me anxiety. Every thought triggers a depressive episode, a ptsd attack or both. I'm not ok, but I can't tell anyone that. So here I am. My parents will never read this, they'll never even know it exists. I can't talk to my dad, not my mom either, she's shut me down enough times already, I can't talk to my step dad, talking to my gramma has never worked bc she always conveys the message to my mom, I don't want to burden my grandpa plus I don't think he'd be able to help me, ijdk anymore guys. Idk.
Today was a good day until I started thinking again. I wish I could stop. I need distractions but there are none when I'm trying to sleep. I'm gonna be so dead tomorrow. I've been writing for so long, it's so late. Ugh. I want death. Calm down it's a joke. What I really want is sleep; lots of it. But we don't always get what we want, do we? The world is a cruel place.
That was a mess, almost as messy as my head. Was meant to be more of an informative rant to bring light to mental illness and stuff but I guess mine kicked in and we ended up having a bit of a roller coaster. Ugh. I'm sorry.
Thank you for reading, it really does mean a lot to me, truly. Ilyasm❤️