When you’re the toxic one…

When you're the toxic one.
“Hey, are you going for X’s thing?”

“Hey, did you get my last message?”

It had been a couple of days since I’d heard from Y but that was perfectly understandable, considering I’d been as cold as rock frozen salami since the day we met while he had been full of child-like, cloying, annoying energy. 

I had told him I was going through it, but probably didn’t elaborate on the fact that IT meant 50 feet of literal shit.  Health,  financial troubles, a pregnancy scare and every other “bad thing” you could think of.  So it was understadable that Mr. Happy – Go – Lucky had had enough of my not-so-subtle jabs.

One time he had asked for the definition of gaslighting and instead of just stating it like a normal person, I sent a dictionary screenshot and alluded to the fact that he worked in an internet search company and should have checked himself. It was sarcasm and he had laughed but apparently he hadn’t found it funny because that was our last proper conversation. Not that we had ever had a proper conversation…you trying to have a conversation with a catty, rude individual doesn’t exactly count as a conversation does it?

In my defence I had told him that I was in a bad place and also that I found his “turn everything into a joke” manner of conversation very annoying plus it was something I was very not used to or into. This was after he had practically pushed me to abandon my “Hello how are you” method of conversation and bare what was really on my mind. “I’m honest so feel free to be honest too” he said.

Well…look where honesty got me.

I’m honestly unbothered that he’s aired out my messages, I kind of deserved that. I’m just sad that I made somebody feel bad at a point I my life where I’m trying all these self improvement stuff and that I still manage to be a terrible person on what can be desrcribed as my bad days. 

A terrible person is exactly what I’m trying not to be. 


 It’s all the rave talking  about how we’re going to cut off negative people and how we want positive vibes only and whatnot. This is all extremely necessary and wonderful as far as we remember that other people are allowed to cut us off if we’re the ones with the negative energy. 

Maybe the best thing to do when you’re in a negative headspace is to avoid conversation as much as possible. If it’s someone that you’re close to and you care about, maybe let them know you’re down in the dumps and will let them know once you’re mentally available. Silence can mayte be explained but words that are let out can’t be taken back. 

If we’re all meant to be so anti negative energy, maybe generally expecting people to be forgiving and sympathetic when we’re being plain evil, especially when they have no idea what exactly is going on might be a bit of a double standard. 

If you have mental health issues and have people who understand and love you regardless, that’s lovely, but let’s just generally try to be kinder and less bitchy. 

There’s enough negative energy in the collective consciousness.


What my anxiety feels like


The first time I had a panic attack that I recognised, someone told me something that scared me. It was something about a relationship I was in…it turned out to be true, I knew it was, but something about a third party telling me from the outside threw me off balance.

I was in a public place and was shaking so I needed to go home. I got into a cab, got home, and went straight up to my room. It felt like I had a fever; I was gasping for air and was in tears.

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Actual self help

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Medium is a nice place to spend some of your free time. I found myself signing up to get updates on my favourite topic at the time- Self-Help. It helped at that point; the point where I found myself trying to claw my way out of something I couldn’t really define. I thought I needed posts and books from no-nonsense authors to tell me to get off my lazy ass and do something, to help me find confidence and purpose. The posts helped for two minutes then I’d be back in a mental rut. After some time I got fed up of reading certain things; and it didn’t help that medium started sending me daily newsletters on the kind of self help I’d never even have read if someone put a gun to my head.

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The Living Room (Introduction)

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I’ve had this idea in my head for a minute; and like every idea I’ve had in my head it just stayed there. I don’t know if I should call whatever makes stuff stay in my head and not come out to the real world procrastination- that’ll be doing the “force” a disservice (yes it feels like a force). It’ll be more aptly described as some kind of paralysis.

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Mental housecleaning

Me in the past (Source: memecreator.org)

When I was either 6/7 years old, I remember writing a letter to God (I think) saying I thought I was adopted because of the way I was treated at home (though I don’t think anything out of the ordinary was going on at home) and that when I died I didn’t want to go to heaven or hell I just wanted to disappear. Hell was of course too terrible for anyone and then heaven, as much as my childhood mind had grasped from Sunday school sessions, was a place where mindless drones gathered to sing ‘hallelujah’ all day wearing shiny robes. Although very young at the time the idea was quite boring so I remember praying very hard to disappear- I didn’t want to exist in any form. I was writing this note in church when my baby brother took it and waddled quickly to hand it over to my mum. I remember panicking but I don’t think there was any major reaction after she read it- maybe she just couldn’t see my handwriting because it was terrible. It still is.

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