I want to help people. I want to help myself. I want to change the world, for better. Cliché right? I want to be the person that everyone comes to, not necessarily because I know everything (no one can know everything), but because they have faith in me and my abilities, and feel comfortable and not scared or intimidated to come to me for help. I want them to know that I actively want to help them, that it honestly gives me joy to the centre of my being helping others, and seeing them grow, whatever and however it may be.
I want to make the world a better place. There are so many ugly things going on in the world every single day. And from where I am sitting, the cause? People, and the way they treat each other. I honestly feel like every problem in the world is caused by, and could be fixed by, the way that people treat each other. If people legitimately treated others the way that they wanted to be treated, stopped to consider what others may currently be going through, or thought how they could positively impact others’ lives, the world would be a more beautiful place. Sure, you have those whom are genuinely “bad” people who don’t care either way, but perhaps if they had been given a chance, had had positive influences and opportunities in their lives, how different would they be?
I want to make myself better. A better human being. A non-medicated, happy, healthy human being. Someone I can admire. Someone I can be proud of.
But the truth? The truth is I am hopeless. Right now I can’t even figure out how to help myself, let alone those around me, let alone the world at large!
Don’t get me wrong – I will continue to help others around me as they need it, and as they ask for it. I am one of those people who will be so exhausted and so worn down, but still put others before my own needs. Some people view this type of personality as a good thing, some view it as a bad thing, personally the jury is still out for me on this one. I get so much joy helping others, but sometimes I am still giving when I have nothing left and wear my self down.
The truth is, right now, I can feel myself spiralling. Down, down, down. I have felt like this before. On and off for honestly 12yrs. I will seem to be ok for a few years and then bam! Seemingly out of nowhere, things will either start piling up or I will just out of nowhere I will feel overwhelmed by nothing. The anxiety that starts as the random nasty thought, that then progresses to anxiety, and then tears on through to full blown paranoia….
And then the self harm starts. Or I start drinking. Or I take more pain killers than I should, more often than I should. I contemplate what would happen if I doubled up on my anxiety meds. Or I start pushing people away. Or I do the opposite, and become obsessed with becoming close friends with people who are currently just acquaintances… Or I go the other way again and start questioning the motives of everyone around me, do they mean what they are saying, why are they doing this, what are they saying to other people etc. Or a combination of multiple of these.
And whilst I recognise the whole way through that my behaviour and thoughts are completely erratic, irrational, crazy, harmful to myself and others, and completely unhelpful, I cannot stop it. I cannot stop myself. And then I drive myself even more crazy hiding my instability from others. Because I then have blind terror over what will happen if others realise how completely crazy I am. Its like when you drop something, or someone else drops something, and it feels like everything is going in slow motion, like an accident; you can see it happening, in minute detail, but you can’t do a single thing to stop it. Its like you are a paralysed spectator to your own life.
So then I feel like a complete hypocrite for wanting to help others. How can I help anyone else if I can’t even help myself?