Disclaimer The following post shares a bit about one of the darkest moments in my recent life. I will be sharing some journal entries from my stay in the hospital this past May 2020 due to deep depression and PTSD symptoms. This in no way reflects how I am currently feeling, but my hope is that what I went through may help someone else who is or has gone through the same/similar feelings. This post may have some triggers, so I wanted to prepare you for the content.
This day starts with me being unable to sleep due to a million thoughts running through my mind. So I woke up and wrote a bunch of questions down. The first entry for this day contains only the philosophical questions, not the other 50 random ones.
May 16, 2020 Entry 1: What is the point of existing? Why am I worth keeping around? Why do I only see darkness in my future? Am I honestly not a burden? To anyone? Why am I useless? Why do people change their interactions with me based off of what they discover about my past and not based on how I've behaved presently? Why am I scared to go home?
Entry 2: What is a "good" morning? What labels a morning as "good"? I feel that it is more perspective than the morning itself being "good". For example, I may look at these "art" projects I have created with crayon and watercolor and want to throw them away, yet I keep them... why? Because others have put worth in them. If others said it was trash, I would not keep them. It is much the same with me. I see no worth in myself. I, myself, am not worth it. (whatever "it" is...). But others say I am. IT is hard to believe them, but maybe they are right? Should I try to see this "worth" they see? I certainly see their worth. Or should I just give up? I'm tired of trying. To me, hearing I have worth has as much weight as hearing someone say, "the sky is falling."
Entry 3: What is the void? Some say it is a place of nothingness. Personally, I believe it is a plethora of emotions, swirling chaotically together in an endless barrage of unwanted, yet all-consuming feeling. As more emotions get pulled into this mess, the person at the center of the void ceases to understand their life outside the void. But, like a black hole, destroying all that come too near, the person becomes consumed. Do they still exist? Or is their identity now this pool of emotions? Are they a person, or are they the void?
This sheds a little light on what I mean when I mention the "void" in my blog posts. Later on in my stay at the hospital, I learn how to name the emotions I am feeling and that helped tremendously. To be able to label the emotions and work through them as they pertained to me. If you are interested in naming your emotions, please contact me and I will send you the papers I received.
