I am in a state of melancholy, filled with apathy and the wish to be by myself. I travelled home for a few days but I cannot seem to make any conversation. I have barely talked too. I discovered Modigliani today. He died too, at 35. Any past artist I feel a connection to or I can relate to died young and their lives weren’t that brilliant: Mapplethorpe, Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath. He is described as ‘a passionate individual with a decadent, self- destructive lifestyle’. My, don’t even know where to start on that. Does being an artist come with all this, the whole package of..mess. Do they have narratives on how awful and beautiful it is to feel everything? To have no one understand you. You try to talk to one of your best friends about this but they bring a story on how they know someone who loved drinking so much, he had a lot of money but he realized he was going to die but now all he does is water. Good for you, I’m proud of you. That probably sounds sarcastic but it isn’t.There’s constantly a war in my mind. I’d love it to stop, I’d love to have better things to describe my mind times like this. I want to go a whole week without being disappointed that I woke up. Thinking of how all these artists have an almost similar narrative before I even knew about them, before I was even born. What is cliché? Is it a fundamental characteristic to be mentally ill and be an artist? When thoughts of..I might not grow old, I might not actually make it. Then I feel this sense of peace come over me. There will be an end to this madness: the constant fight not to relapse, an end to being a fuck up, an end to be being destructive, an end to the thirst of being intoxicated because it can silence my voices and delusions and I can live. I am normal when intoxicated. (Why do I have to be normal.) I won’t feel the crashing feels of love, I always love, understand, love love love unconditionally like please stop, you’ll still get hurt however unconditional you are. But I’m not like that, I can’t stop being vulnerable and not everybody receives you the way you are. I want an end to the fight to remain soft.

One day I won’t need to act normal, I won’t have to be amoebic, I won’t have to say, ”I can’t defend myself right now because what I did happened, it wasn’t my fault but I take full responsibility”, I won’t have to keep apologizing just because. An end to the rapid cycling bipolar episodes. I want a morning that I have not cried. I want peace. I just want peace. 

When my mind makes me physically exhausted

It’s been several days whereby my mind has made me physically exhausted. My whole body feels like I have done a 6 mile run and my head feels like concrete. During my research on depression I read that one does get tired because of fighting daily battles no one knows about. Now I am experiencing this fatigue and all I want to do is stay in bed. I do not realise how fast days pass or how long it has been since I took a bath. I have not had a decent meal (I have said this severally…I think).

I went to the beach in the morning and in the middle of my walk my legs did not want to keep moving. My pace slowed down so much and I wondered what the fuck is going on. I reached my usual spot,said hi to my two friends and proceeded to strip down to my underwear (which works as my swimming costume) and settled down to continue my writing. My head was killing me and I started regretting leaving the comfort of my bed. A few hours later I could not take it anymore and I lied down on the bench and took a nap. I woke up later, dressed and dragged my ass back home. All I wanted was my bed and the internet.

Daily battles with the mind is something I cannot explain to anyone. You are constantly trying to find the logical opposite of what you are thinking. At the moment I believe I am a burden to everyone and I do not deserve to be understood. I do not need to put up my depressing posts because nobody cares and I am only seeking attention. I am doing this so that people feel bad for me. I am trying to tell myself I am not doing any of these for anyone but myself because if I don’t write it out I feel worse.I am struggling to be able to keep talking about what I’m going through with my mental illness but this voices that tell me I shouldn’t,make me push away everyone. Everyone has their own life to live,as do I. Nobody needs to keep hearing how I couldn’t stop crying last night for no reason at all.

I have been trying to be honest with myself and letting myself feel this feelings without ignoring them. Yesterday I was watching some videos from a black lesbian youtuber Ari Fitz and one of them was on cheating. From that video I was able to resonate with a few things like how exactly I felt during my relationship this past year. I finally saw this break up as a blessing in disguise. I was not happy in my relationship for a very long time and my friends started to notice and tell me. I felt undesirable, unworthy and lonely. I always wondered if I am polyamorous and if I needed to find someone to love me on a deeper level emotionally while still in the relationship. But I believed I am not the type of person for anyone to choose me.I believed(still do) I was unattractive and I was lucky to even be in a relationship. This felt like a power play that fucked me up inside. So I held on, unfortunately. I was expecting the break up and I just wondered when it would come. I did not want to end things because I believed two people who loved each other can work through things and find ways to be with each other. The break up still broke me as I was at that moment not mentally okay. The last thing that held me together was taken from me,I was feeling betrayed and all this emotions started off the beginning of my suicide attempts.

Right now I am focused in finding who I was 3 years ago. That girl who did not care about being single and was a free spirit. I am alone now. Telling myself I am alone now means a lot of things to me especially in fighting my anxiety. This might only make sense to me but that’s okay.

I hope to keep finding strength.


Warning: This is a depressing post.

Since last night I have been rather off.I feel angry. I feel so angry and restless and sad. I found it hard to sleep even while reading or watching more YouTube videos. I’m not eating well and I don’t feel hungry. I’ll take my breakfast at around 10am and drink soda throughout the day. I am angry at my mother I am angry at my brother I am angry with everything. I  have asked my father to wean me off the medicines because they make me feel horrible. I told him I don’t think I can be helped. I hate seeing how helpless he looks after I tell him what I am feeling. Yesterday I went shopping with him and I saw this sisal ropes and I felt my heart beating faster. I checked the prices and refused to admit to myself that I am scared of killing myself but I know I can do it.

Right now I just want those pills I took the last time I attempted suicide. I’m craving a drug that will numb me from everything. I don’t want to wake up again.I’m scarred by the last attempt (literally, I have 4 scars on my hands where I was tied to the bed). This 4 scars always remind me of that night and how far off the edge I had gone.

I have not replied messages from 3 of my friends who are asking me if I am okay. I don’t want to worry anyone anymore. Please allow me to go. Let me go. It’s okay if I am called selfish, I don’t mind. I know I will hurt a lot of people who care for me. I wish I could feel the care and love.

Right now I just want those 60 pills.The feeling is so strong I just had to type it out, maybe it will reduce?  I will not call anyone like I did last time. I want to be alone.I want to do this on my own.

I go through this feelings daily.  I’m still here fighting to see another day even though my mind does not want me too.

Why we choose Suicide

“…I just didn’t want it to hurt anymore.”

What it’s like to lose someone to suicide


I was watching a YouTube video on Adwoa Aboah,she said something that made sense to me. She said she thinks she was born sad. I think I was born a sad person too and it manifests whenever it wants. I believe my aura is this sci-fi like ball of energy surrounding me and anyone who gets close to me is going to be affected in some way.

I have reasons to believe my energy vibes are quite different from most people. My friend tells me she can feel when my moods change, that my vibes are so strong you can feel them from a distance. Weeks ago when I was at home (it doesn’t feel like home anymore though) my mother came down the stairs and asked me if I was okay. I asked why and tried laughing and smiling. She said she just sensed something had changed and it showed on my face. I normally can’t fake my facial expressions and all the time I don’t know what my face is doing I just have to listen to my energy and I’ll know what my face is showing. I’ve had instances when I’ll get upset and I normally avoid confrontation so I stay silent. You will notice anyone who is around me will get affected and I honestly hate it.

I have become extremely self conscious about my energy. I try to avoid being around people because I don’t know when my energy will change. When I’m in good moods,definitely the people around me are okay and I am able to laugh and connect and make someone laugh and I can feel this lightness around me. Like I should just get a rope and start skipping because I am very happy. I say hi to strangers and make conversation,laugh with them and I wish them a good day.

The reason I am self conscious is because I can’t control my energy and I don’t want to affect anyone. I don’t want to make someone believe I have bad vibes as people say or I want nothing but good vibes around me and I go,” Well I better stay away from you because I don’t want you to read me wrong.” I feel things too much, I read into things unnecessarily, I am overly sensitive and all this plays into my energy. I can’t control it.


(just sat down from dancing to a song. I was crying less than 5 minutes ago while singing Kelly Clarkson’s Cry song. I’m now holding my chest,there’s a sadness that feels tangible that I can’t shake off. I’ve been randomly holding my chest to feel if my heart is okay. Last night it felt like it could burst with a warm satisfaction from watching Alice in Wonderland. Tim Burton is great. The feeling felt like the orgasm I had after masturbating earlier on after a long time. I give myself the best Orgasms.)

I had stopped taking my Bipolar meds for a week because they gave me nausea and I end up sleeping a lot after breakfast. I took them again today after being super elated yesterday and the nausea and sleep are back. I woke up again at lunch time.

I am lonely. I’ve been lonely for a very long time. The feeling comes in waves, sometimes it’s one long wave that continuously breaks my heart. Tangible.
I vividly remember all the times I’ve been in situations where I am asking a friend to stay a bit longer, add a few more minutes…or spend the night,because I can’t bear to be in this four walls again. I remember the times my chest would sink in when a companion had to leave. “Stay a bit longer.” I would say and hope the person can extend their stay. ” I’ll cook for you :)”. The last time i did this my best friend had visited me at my childhood home. She was to stay one night but I begged for one more night.

The feeling like I’m always being left has become an overwhelming…thing I can’t talk to anyone about. “Please stay.” Please.

I think one of the most heartbreaking thing I’ve gone through is the night I had sat in bed and I cried because of who I am. I remember asking myself why me,why I’m I like this. I loudly sobbed and realising that nobody knows what I go through like crying because of who I am. That was pitiful and I hated it.

I’m not sure how to end this post, I’ve been distracted by yet another dancy song.

One more try

I renamed this blog One More Try after being hospitalized for trying to commit suicide and failing. The only regret I have is calling my friends to say goodbye and my best friend arriving too soon to drag me to hospital against my wishes. I fought hard. I was weak,convulsing,my speech was incoherent,I was crying. I had taken 60 sleeping pills and I thought I’d just sleep forever but when I tried to stay in bed I got horrible seizures at one point I bit my tongue. I paced around,stumbling and knocking over things because I couldn’t see properly. I remember realizing that I could actually die and that scared me,but also I looked forward to it. I opened the door for my best friend,which I regret doing. I saw the panic in her eyes and she started crying and calling a taxi. I don’t remember much apart from the way I fought hard but I still got dragged down from the fourth floor to the taxi. The next thing I remember was waking up stark naked,both hands and feet tied to the bed with a gauze and I was being cleaned. That was 2 days later. I was alive.

I’m writing this a few weeks later, I’m living with my dad and I’ve woken up rather low and crying. I’m crying because I know I won’t be around for 2017. I’ve been doing things with a finality to them, like it could be the last thing I could be doing it, or seeing a person and the thought that it could be the last time always popping up.

I’m tired of fighting my mind. I’ve been hospitalized twice,gone through 4 ECT sessions, I’m medicated but I’m still suicidal. I tried telling my father but he begged me to not leave him. I wish that could break my heart but it didn’t.

I’ve been told I’m strong,but I no longer am. The last thing that held me together was a relationship that’s been taken away from me. I can’t fight my mind anymore, I’m too tired.


I can’t talk about all this with anyone, I know how it all sounds. I somehow can’t see further from the remaining weeks I have left. I’ve tried. Will I be remembered?

Some nights

It’s one thing to say one thing but it gets misunderstood even when you explain it. I get bored explaining things, that’s just me. Currently I just want to be quiet and listen. My favorite blogger on Human are Weird wrote down something I could relate to succinctly. I feel these things and it is okay, just listen without looking confused as to what to do with me. Everything goes, this feelings will go and at the moment I do have them.

“Sometimes you wake up but you don’t want to wake up you just want to roll over and fall back asleep because you hate your life and it’s all black and everything just stinks and you feel like a bad page of poetry written by some lonely talentless teenager but you realise that you’re not. You’re a fully grown man who has simply lost his will to keep on keeping. Yeah. You’re a bad page of poetry written by the sweaty pen of some pimple-spangled teen.

And you wonder why you keep on going what the point is if there is any sort of light at the end of the tunnel or where the fuck the tunnel’s end actually is. You kick yourself because you feel like it’s all your fault. You don’t work full time and you don’t live or lead a normal life and you know that you can’t you knew it when you were small you knew that you could do things really quickly and easily but that doing them stressed you out and that doing them required your attention and that you just didn’t have any attention to give. That’s just how you are and that’s just how it is but you still hate yourself and your life and everything in your life because of it and what the fuck is the point of going on.

And you feel lonely because it’s not that no one understands you but that no one really gives a shit or wants to understands you. If you want to feel understood you just pick up a book and read classic literature because a few of those weirdos understood you because they were a lot like you. But it’s not about being understood; it’s about people giving a fuck to understand you. And not even your close friends really give a shit and your partner does but it’s just for whatever fucked up warped reason not enough. And most your family feels like a different species of mammal and people around you feel like they’re from a different planet and it’s fucking lonely. And so you write.

And then you remember that writing is what got you into this mess in the first place. Writing is what gave you hope that your passion a passion you never knew could be pursued. And you think fuck, fuck fuck fuck. I’ve been doing this for so long now and seen absolutely no reward not financially at least and you wonder why, why why why the fuck am I still even bothering with this self indulgent practice that only barely keeps me saner than I ordinarily am which still isn’t any where near a point you’d call sane. And you remember that you love writing but apparently it doesn’t love you because it’s a fickle piece of the life that you so desperately want to end.

And you convince yourself that there will be light at the end of the tunnel that there is an end to this tunnel in which you’ve found yourself that this bottomless well isn’t actually bottomless and that it will all, one day, pay off. And you convince yourself that living a life that doesn’t forever desire little more than a bed and a dark space will squeeze out of the blackness of your vacuum chest and suck you into some less dire land where living day to day week to week month to month meal to meal isn’t. Is not.

But it’s bullshit because you just know it’s bullshit. Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is certain. Even uncertainty isn’t particularly certain. And so you roll back over into your warm pillow and you drool and you bite and you cry and you pull and you do everything that you can do to keep on fucking going because that’s what you have to do. If there’s one thing that you have to do it’s keep going.”

In my musing

I have been down, I have been rather quiet at times, I have cried with the reason being that I feel alone, I have been stressed, I have been calm, I have been patient and I have loved. I have been rather down it feels like sinking into a deep hole and you cannot get a hold of the sides. I have never felt that way before and I hated it. I usually do not like talking about what I am feeling just to avoid the response I might get like, “Do you think you might be exaggerating?”or “I think what you are feeling is something that will just pass.” or “Aahh you will be fine,don’t worry.” I do not want to be downplayed. I am feeling them aren’t I? So here goes.

Do you sometimes feel like you are the one who is overtly sensitive to some matters and maybe if you can just shut up there won’t be misunderstandings? When you think you are the cool, calm and collected person yet look like a clingy, stubborn kitten who has not been fed two meals. That kitten still wants to be petted. I think I have a point there. Where do all this feelings come from? Why do we have feelings in the first place, to make us human? I don’t want them. My insecurities make me cower, I have given them power to ruin my life and make me feel vulnerable in situations that I shouldn’t be. Are you judging me now that I acted blindly because of how I felt? I am already hard on myself. I want to be comfortable with myself, I swear I was. I am angry. I am angry I am smiling hiding the fact that I am not myself. If you ask me what I want I’d probably say I don’t know. I am not broken. I do not want to be fixed.