If it feels like the end then it isn’t.

I had one of those days where the good outweighed the bad, so much so my mood was relatively stable.

I had work at 7:30. I awoke without a fuss or fight. My alarm acted as a precaution as my eyes opened at 5:30. I checked Instagram, for my morning dose of memes. I didn’t shower. Sometimes I don’t. I just can’t bring myself to become wet. I can go days without showering and advisable hygiene . The longest I have gone successfully 4 days. Successful meaning that my stench didn’t make me want to gag. Though with that said, I have pushed it to a week.

I walked to work, it is important to save all you can as a student. Plus it’s good exercise. The fog concealed all lights from the lamps, buildings and cars. I walked blindly. It takes about 40 minutes, probably less. I am terrible at estimating time. I was transferred to a new cafe. There were few customers so I only worked a three hour shift. That was my first piece of luck. I decided to go shopping and walk through the town center. Bath is such a beautiful place it inspires my awe. I bought few bits and pieces. New eyeliner, a hair brush. Simple grooming tools. I also bought a ring for my septum as opposed to wearing a keeper for the duration of my life. I love it I feel beautiful…

This is where Tuesday’s post ended. The depression took over. I was bed ridden for three days. The painful emptiness returned. The dark thoughts consumed my mind, my eyes throbbed and the beat in my chest muted. I felt the emptiness and hated myself for it. I cried myself to sleep. I was so close to hurting myself but I didn’t. Well I did, but not severely. Not like I use to. I scratched and bit my arm, until I was bruised. I fell into a warm slumber. I saw painful images of myself *trigger warning suicide*. I saw myself hanging from the curtain rod in my room, the door double locked but the windows and the curtains drawn open. I was so cold. I found the strength to see my counselor on Thursday. She suggested that I start taking new medication. Something to stabilise my mood. To provide me with some consistency, to stop the waves. The colossal ups and deathly lows. I tried to explain that I loved the ups. They were so beautiful and the deeper the down the more glorious the light is. I just don’t know whether I can make it through many more downs. The quicksand of melancholia keeps calling me. One day I wont escape.

I had a brilliant day today. I wasn’t very productive but I was relaxed and sociable. I was content with my mirror image. I felt as if the world was applauding me. I am grateful for today. I’m glad I held on.

CP x


Things I write to myself

This is my first ever blog post. I want to introduce myself but I’m not sure how to, in all honesty I don’t know who I am yet. Hopefully this is my journey to find clarity.

I have the tendency to cry, a lot. I do this in private of course. I mute my scream with my psychedelic print pillow close to suffocation. I close my eyes until they swell with tears then I erupt. My housemates do not know this side of me, they do not know I too have the capacity to be down in the pits of the deepest abyss.

I wrote this to myself on one of those days where it felt as if were treading water:

Dear codepumpkin,

It’s December 15th, you’re 20 and so beautiful. You are also everything you wanted to be, though there is still a long way to go. You are so much happier, all of this is your doing! Continue to reap the rewards of loving yourself and reaching your goals. Maybe you have lost your virginity, maybe not. You are in no rush. Though I hope you have found a suitor someone that you like and loves you back, but if not the prior advice applies – all in due time.

You are beautiful continue to love yourself and others. Do what makes you happy, I love you xoxo

I always write myself little notes of this sort hoping it will make a difference. It rarely does. Without fail I return to my habits of self – loathing and maladaptive behaviour. I am always waiting on a miraculous event to change me for the better, but I cant expect such a transformative experience to be external. There are actions I can take to better myself, so that when I look in the mirror I can see a work of art rather than a rough sketch of who I want to be.

CP x