Inhuman

On any given day I try my best to have somewhat of a normal human emotion pattern. To feel sad when I should feel so. To feel happy when you would think it would be called for. However my efforts more often than not are for nothing and fail majority of the time. Happiness is few and far between, and just when I think I'm happy and have it right, my mood drastically changes within seconds and whatever it was that I thought I had is swept away with whatever emotion my mind decides on next. To be so heavily medicated is confusing to say the least. You don't know whats working, when its working, or if its even working at all. I want to be responsible and take all of my medications prescribed, which in fact I do. But I constantly wonder, do I really need to be on all of these prescriptions, and if I don't, how on earth am I going to find the time and courage to ease off of some of them? Which ones should I get rid of? Where is it going to take me? It doesn't help that I lost my insurance that covered going to the best psychiatrist I have ever had, and am now having to go to my old one who verbally said to me that he was not comfortable treating me, due to my overall nature with medication and history of hospitalizations. In a perfect world I would maybe need two of these medications at most. I know not to wish for no medication because what I have is irreversible and has always been a part of me. To think that would be a cause for more emotional pain because it is impossible and I am smart enough I will never allow the thought to even cross my mind. I try to damnedest to keep moving forward, with my head held high and the false appearance of bravery and hope. Once upon a time I had hope. But as the years pass, the less hope I seem to possess. The deeper I get into this journey, the more it beats me down and violates my humanity. Stripping me of all dignity and essentially "putting me in my place". Insanity sets in, and while I know its not truly me, I doubt myself and think "maybe it is". The mind is a very powerful thing, and when it is highjacked by a chemical reaction, it is next to impossible to come out of. I always loved the saying "It is not mind over matter when it is my mind that is the matter". And yet I still fight. It may not look like it to others, but I am fighting every waking moment of every single day that I am alive. To simply exist is a battle. To socialize, to smile, to get out of bed and change my clothes, to take a shower regularly, to force myself to care enough to be a functioning human of society. To try in one persons eyes is different from another. And judgment is not something I have ever been able to brush off. It doesn't matter who, whenever a judgement is placed on me I deeply internalize it and let it eat away at me. It becomes something that I am doing terribly wrong if someone has the audacity to give their opinion. I don't take opinions well. I do know better. Deep down I know that people will have their opinions and will only understand certain things from which their perception derives. I know the science of it, but it still doesn't stop me from taking it to heart and reevaluating what I am doing with myself and my situation. God knows I don't want to be this way. Who would ever truly want to be this way? Sometimes people think that I truly do want this. That I am happy to be a "mental patient" and lab rat for the big Pharma. Despite what all of you say. I want none of this. I don't want to swallow one single pill. I want to be able to get out of bed in the morning. I want to be able to remember what I ate for breakfast, and if I even did in fact in breakfast. I want to laugh when others laugh, not have to go into the bathroom on a regular basis and cry for no reason. I want to be able to date and have friend without being terrified, uncertain and completely uncertain of  "what they will think of me once they know". I know there will be good people who will see past all of this, but then again I know that there are those who will certainly not. And I try not to let those people get to me before they even get to me. 
In a perfect world... 
I am Laney, and nothing less. I am happy, I am sad, I am everything in between, I only need two medications to keep my emotions at bay. I socialize with confidence and without fear. My medications don't effect my attraction to men and I actually have to desire to date. There is that "special someone" and I aim to find him. I have a quality group of friends who I can count on, but at the same time they can also count on me. My parents don't have to worry about me and ask me if "I am safe". I don't have to pay hundreds of dollars a month on medications to barely keep my head above water. I don't need to rely so heavily on health insurance and can work wherever I want. In a perfect world, I would have been somewhere very different from where I am now. I would simply just be me. No strings attached, no fear, and no uncertainty as to what the next 10 minutes will bring. 

Victimized By My Own Falsehood

Are you done yet Laney? Are you done lying to yourself? Are you done hiding in your room and in your bed? Are you done telling yourself that everyone else can amount to something, but not you? Why are they the exception? Why can’t I be? Why can’t I have the things that I have always wanted and the things that I have always known that I have wanted? I lie to myself everyday. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not skinny enough. I have a mental illness that will hold me back. I will never be what I want to be. The odds will never be in my favor. Why do I continue to fill my own head with lies? Lies that are coming from my own mind! Where did I learn this? How do I unlearn this? What would Scully do? What would Laney do? Good question. What would she do? Hide in her room, watching television shows that she wishes she was on, while eating a pint of ice cream from the comfort of her own bed. Sitting there like a blob, thinking of how wonderful it would be to be the one from the other side. The one giving the entertainment and not taking it. What is stopping me? Why do I think myself to be so worthless? Why must I continue to play victim with myself? Why don’t I deserve what I want in life? Why don’t I deserve the career I want? Why don’t I deserve love? Why are the rest worthy of these things but not me? Do I really think that these people, these actors were just handed these things? Do I really believe they are beautiful and flawless just by chance? That their jobs chose them? How do I stop the negative self talk? Where did it come from? How do I find it? If I find where it came from then maybe I can search and destroy. Attack it from the source. Sure I have ideas and theories, but have I even began to challenge them? That’s it. Where’s the challenge in my life? I’m so afraid of failing, but I’m also afraid of succeeding. So naturally I do neither. I stay in limbo. Never succeeding, never failing. Sitting comfortably with the things I have always protected myself with, even as a child. A movie I can fall asleep to, and then only dream of being the one in it. My bed. Safe under the covers where life can’t get to me. Where failure can’t get to me. Where success can’t get to me. Where change itself cannot get to me. I think my way into a whirlwind thoughts. They spin me around time and time again. Every once in a while they trick me into thinking I’m finally going to take the plunge. But do I ever take action? Maybe I say I’m going to do something, and then fantasize about it. And that’s the extent of it. It excites me enough where I get some sort of fix. Thinking of it, then maybe believing it for a single moment, and then just like it came, it goes out like a light. A zap in my brain. And I’m back to thinking about the doubts, the excuses, the voices of others directing my mind elsewhere. I don’t believe everything I hear. In fact I’m quite a sceptic. But when someone tells me that I won’t amount to anything, I believe them. Where does my scepticism go when those people and myself are flooding my mind with falsehoods? I suppose sceptics choose their battles. Sometimes it applies, sometimes not at all. It applies when it has to do with ourselves. After all, we are after all our own greatest enemy. How is it that we can tell someone they are capable of the world, but when it comes time to tell ourselves even a fraction of that, we cannot even begin to believe it? Is ego something we are born with? Why are some of us born without it? Natural selection perhaps? What happens when you’re the one born without it? Whatever ego I had, its gone. It died slowly, in my own arms. I watched it leave. I watched it vanish like vapor, some here, some there. Every now and then there is a spark of it in my head, but just like a thin white line on a mirror, it’s there at one moment, and then gone the next, leaving behind only my own reflection. A reflection that doesn’t speak to me the way that it should. That reflection brings it all back. The pain. The failure. The loss. The voices telling me that I can’t. That I won’t. The voices asking me how. How in hell will it be you? Of all of the people in this life, in your life, how are you the one meant to succeed? Why would you be the one to make it? Says who? How are you not going to end up like your worst fears? Why on this damned earth would you be the exception?