NirvanaFunClub

I have this cycles of ill will, let’s call them. Which means I get approximately 3/7 days where I can’t leave my house. That has been going on, more or less frequently for 5 years now. During that time, of course, I have done a lot of things in order for that exhausting cycle to stop. With time I have realised that the best I could hope for is to make the change from not leaving my house to leaving my house less drastic, more similar in a way that when I am home I do not lay on my couch the entire time, but walk around a house a bit more and when I do go out, to walk around the block and not stroll around the entire city.

I couldn’t even get that done. It continued to be drastic, but not only that, I had come up with self-destructive ways in order to stay in the house for those 3 days. I couldn’t just decide to rest, I had to disable my body so I got into the habit of simply eating way too much in the morning so that I literally cannot move for the rest of the day. Sometimes when waking up I would think ‘I can make it!’ even though I felt it in my bones I was active for far too long, and my body will make me stay home. I would be devastated when my body would ‘surprise me’ by not being able to stop eating at breakfast signalling it is time to stay at home.

While I would lay on my couch I would start out the day as being desperate, openly demanding answers ‘Why is this happening to me?’ ‘This is hell on earth!’ ‘I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, not even my mortal enemy. I do not have any enemies.’ And then I would start laughing. I would make myself laugh and I would start having fun with myself and the ridiculousness of the situation. I would enjoy the sugar-rush I would get from all the horrible food I would put in my mouth in order to disable myself. I would laugh at the superficial shows I would watch the entire day, and think about all the things I will do tomorrow, or the day I stop making myself stay indoors. I would identify with the characters on the TV, or in the media or in my youth. I would think about myself and all the people that are at the moment part of my life. I would do plans for our relationship. I would try to organise some sort of triage of them and the roles they play for me. I would analyse bad things that are happening and reassuring myself with all the good things I have going on. And at the end of the day I would make a plea to my body to let me go out the next day.

At the end of every day I would know if the ‘laying down‘ episode would continue the next day or not, but I would chose to believe that I can ask my body to cooperate even though I knew I do not truly want to, but I had to be ‘a good girl’ I had to try to get back into the programme, get back into society, be presentable. It wouldn’t work. I usually knew when it was enough and I had come up with enough energy to get back out there. In all fairness sometimes I would eat so much sugar that I literally couldn’t move the next day even though my brain was willing. Those were the worse times. Repercussions of the way I was mistreating my body. Having to deal with the consequences of the self-hate. I guess I was my own mortal enemy.

After all those years, and all the failed theories, new approaches, mind games, shopping lists, dietary innovations and one trip to a medically controlled psylocibin therapy I couldn’t do it any more. My body was tired, I have endangered my health too many times to count (while eating too much I would usually get on a verge of suffocating, I have even called emergency a few times), I have quit my job because it was too exhausting to keep it up next to my hobby. I was scared constantly and finally my life looked nothing like I ever wanted it to look. I was getting older, even too old to have a family (curse of being a female) and I started panicking. I asked for help, and I listened, even though I didn’t think it would help but I listened. I have listened to the voice of majority for the first time in my life. I was defeated by society.

So what did I do you ask?

I started to take antidepressants. Surprise, surprise. I still feel ashamed of it, not because it is shameful but because I know depression (not clinical depression) like any other feeling is here to signal to our bodies where to go. Or simply, to change the route. Emotions are not here to be controlled or, god forbid, suppressed. Every time I see some mindfulness technique or a self-help practice I can’t help to think it is another capitalistic trick to keep us subordinate. Every stress, anxiety and all other modern-life verbal diseases are signals telling us that the way we are living is wrong. It is not healthy and our bodies are telling us that. You do not need to control it in order to be functional, in order to be an able body in the system.

Capitalism is a lot of things but humane is not one of them. It was never designed to be taking into consideration humans and their needs other than their consumeristic capacities. I am not against any economical system, I think it is just that, an economical system that is working when it is working and it crumbles when it cannot work anymore. There is no moral attributes given to the economical systems. At least I do not give them any. I am not ant capitalism or any other ism, I am just for humans.

But I caved in, because I was pushed to a corner and the only solutions offered were the socially accepted ones. I couldn’t think outside of the box anymore. If I will be a part of this society and I will because I love people, I do not have a lot of choices, I need to accept the solutions that society I want to be a part of is proposing.

Regarding the ANTI, they haven’t started working yet, I only had 2 weeks taking 1/4 of the smallest dose, but the side effects are brutal, and funny. I feel like I am taking small amounts of a very bad designer drug. It takes me on a journey through the bodily functions my body uses in fighting the intruder. My body is telling me ‘here is this kid, I do not know who he is, I do not know how he got here I do not know what he wants and I am pretty sure everything he can do I can do better.’ But, for now, I will let the kid rummage around, I will him work just for the fun of it. So I can see what the big deal is. Is it really just a bad designer drug, and a majority of users never tried the real thing?

A.C.A.B. 4 life – All cats are beautiful I guess