Ellie Vs. One More Day

Dear friends,

This is a late night, panic and pain induced rant. It most likely will not be as articulate as I normally try to be because life is kicking my ass so hard I might actually see the curvature of the Earth. Now that I have cleared that up, have you ever wished to have the ability to jump around in time, like The Doctor does, but with maybe more control so that you actually go where you want to?

I absolutely understand that being in my 20’s is one of the most challenging periods of my life; many people my age and far older have told me this because this is the age where people expect you to have it all together, yet people rarely do because this is the stage of discovery and understanding. I’m sure that being someone such as myself who is not only in my 20’s but also chronically ill and disabled doesn’t make any of the already challenging things about this age any easier, and that’s not even considering everything else I have on top of that. Though Facebook often seems to showcase how many of my friends are doing astoundingly well and have it all figured out while I marathon Powerpuff Girls as I inhale a bowl of granola and strawberries most mornings, I know that isn’t exactly true. I’m nearly positive most people this age regardless of their misfortunes or luck, no matter how many selfies at the beach they post, do not have life figured out. Even still, I can’t help but feel that I am far, far behind, and the more I try to catch up, the farther back I am thrown.

I have many health issues, one being a nasty little glitch in my brain called General Anxiety Disorder. I have written a post about anxiety before, so I won’t rant about this too long, but I would like to just remind the human race that while all people have a natural amount of anxiety, having GAD is anxiety on a level that people without the disorder can’t even begin to imagine. To cut the rant short, it basically  feels like every second of the day I am lingering at the edge above a deep canyon that is the entrance to hell itself. Often times I fall from the edge, and that is what I imagine an anxiety attack to be. I’m scrambling on top of tumbling rocks to prevent being swallowed by the darkest darkness all while a black hole has sucked out all the air around me. I’m running for my life while being asphyxiated.  Having an anxiety disorder is not an adorable quirk or something people can just say when they’re nervous about asking someone out. It is an illness, and to suffer from it is a fucking nightmare.

Life isn’t easy. Living with illness is even harder especially when I’m trying to pretend that I am not as unwell as I actually am. When anxiety cripples my soul to the point where my coping mechanisms fail me on a daily basis, I’m left wondering how I can possibly make it through another day. So often I have been told to take life a day at a time. This is very wonderful advice that is very difficult to follow, especially for someone like myself. Taking life day by day currently seems too much to ask of me.

Many times I have written that I am aimless. Every day I am wondering about the purpose of my existence. Not the meaning of life, mind you; I honestly believe the meaning of life is simply to live, and to make your life meaningful. The tricky part is that obnoxious word “meaningful”. The meaning of an individual’s life is entirely subjective; so how the actual fuck are any of us supposed to figure that out when we don’t get so much as a hint? It seems that all of the purposes I thought I was here for and all the adventures I’ve set out on have lead me to the wrong places. All of the roads that I believed with all my heart would lead me to a place where I can belong and thrive, a place where my puzzle piece finally fits with all the others, have all lead me astray. And now I am left wondering in the middle of nowhere (metaphorically, that is) what exactly is it that I am meant to do? How can I work a job, have a life, or thrive when at this point most days only doing minor housework  is enough to floor me with exhaustion, and any moment I am struck hard by anxiety and depression? How can I have healthy relationships when I can’t trust anyone around me and my constant waves of emotion stand in the way of communication or acceptance?

I wish I knew what advice to give myself. Though I pride myself on being helpful to others it seems that I’m useless when trying to help during my own battles. All I keep thinking is that I wish I could fast forward past this part of my life to the future where I’m happily married, 80% healthier with a lovely small house and a puppy. But then again, wishing my life away, while incredibly tempting, might not exactly be the best idea either.

I wonder if I really could do that, and I did, if the happier, future me would regret it because I would have no memory of the experiences that got me to the far better future. Would future me appreciate the goodness less, or feel a slight emptiness inside for missing out on all the hard work that I’m doing now?

I am exhausted to my very soul. When it comes down to it, I just don’t want to be sick anymore. I don’t want to be heartbroken anymore or long anymore, and I don’t want to grieve anymore or feel as out of place as I have my entire life. I cannot stand the sadness any longer. I have been sad most of my life, and while it’s understandable considering what I have faced, it gets old fast. Extremely fast.

But somehow, someway, I will find a way to survive it all, because goddammit, I want a wedding with a beautiful gown and gluten free cake, and moreover, I want a puppy. Even if I have to get all that by taking my life one second at a time.

Writing a ranty blog half asleep may or may not be a good idea.

Holding a gun to my head.
So send me an angel,
or bury me deeply instead,
With demons to lean on.

~Wavves – Demons to Lean On  TW: This song is quite sad and hopeless feeling; I like it because sometimes it is nice to feel the sadness and hopelessness of the moment for a while, just not forever. The idea that others feel as I do comforts me, but I realize that not everyone reacts that way, and I would hate to send someone spiraling. As hopeless as I sound, as hopeless as this songs sounds, I remain with a glimmer of hope that things will get better. With all my love, Eleanore. 

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2 thoughts on “Ellie Vs. One More Day

  1. Oh Ellie! Can’t you get that puppy now? Maybe you could qualify for a service dog. I say this because one of my past patients had a service dog — a small friendly poochie who wore a therapy dog vest; the 30ish old man had GAD & PTSD from the Iraq war and was allowed to bring his dog with him everywhere. Maybe it would be possible for you to look into something like that? ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I have actually been thinking tons about getting a service dog and I would love to have one. Out of 13 things wrong with me I’m sure several qualify, though if I were to have one I would have to move out of my apartment because no pets. It might be worth it though because among other things they also help with depression and GAD.

      Liked by 1 person

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