Seriously just cook some food like a proper person.

a bit doubty, a bit unsure.

I guess what I'm trying to say is... I don't know.

Don't let it define you.

Bekky + Blarry = Blarky

Rooms full of people. Why am I in them?

Social Anxiety

I haven't been socialising well lately.
I've been forcing myself to go out because when I stay home I feel sad and lonely.
But when I'm out and I'm surrounded by people ...I still feel sad and lonely. Maybe even more so?

Sometimes people are nice to me, and they start to talk to me, and I forget how to be a person.
I stare at them strangely and furrow my eyebrows and try to answer their very simple questions like "how are you?" and "what do you do?" and "how do you know Felicity?" and I just get flustered and end up saying something utterly strange.

Then, I apologise for being a bit strange and I try to assure them that I used to be able to answer such simple questions, in a timely manner, and sometimes even with borderline charm!...but by this point I'm rambling, which just makes me seem stranger.

Navigating Blarry

Impossible Tasks.

Welcome Back

It was my intention to write a very funny and wonderful blog post about 2015.

I had it all planned out in my head, I knew exactly what I wanted to say.

I decided the first blog post of 2016 was going to be a positive one. 

What a great uplifting message I would share. How reassuring it would be!

I would address my one challenging 2015 goal. 

I would tell you how it went (spoilers: it went well).

But no. 

Instead it is just a series of drawings of me being sad. 

I sat down tonight and I drew them all. It's the first time I've done that in ages.

I don't even have a story to go with them. 

It's just me being sad, and drawing it. How dreary.

I really have been doing great. I want to tell you about it. Just not right now.

It's okay to be sad right now. So I'm just going to do that.

How low can you go?

Last weeks post: Low

Low.

mud

Depression.

How would you describe it?

Comment below.

I sneak up on myself.

Age 11, Treading water. Age 12, Drowning.

Age 11.

I find it harder to settle at night.

As soon as the night starts to go quiet I feel nauseas.

The quieter my surroundings, the louder my thoughts, the more my stomach turns.

The doctor tells my Mum I have an anxiety disorder.

Age 12.

Sometimes during the day, I find myself suddenly unable to take a breath.

I realise at that second that I never really learn to breathe. It just happens.

I try to remember how, but there's no memory of a lesson on how to breathe. 

It's just supposed to happen. 

So when it suddenly stops happening, an overwhelming dread takes over my body.

I'm dying. 

I'm standing in the middle of the street, drowning.

This is a sensation I will experience for years to come.

These are my panic attacks.

Thank you Caitlin (pictured)

You don't even realise you're in there!

Negative self talk is a nasty fucking sneaky habit.

After a good batch of therapy (strongly recommend) I was able to start recognising the cruel messages I told myself daily.

I was SO cruel.

Rebekah you're useless. Why do you even try? 

Just give up. 

Stop wasting space. 

Rebekah you're ugly.

people can't stand to be around you

 because you're annoying and stupid 

and no one will ever love you, 

because as I said, you're ugly.

Rebekah you're a failure.

Stupid, Ugly, Useless, Failure.

Once my mum said to me: 

"Would you ever say these things to your best friend?"

No! Never! Of course not! That's horrible! I would never say those things to anyone!

"So why do you say them to yourself?"

Get out of my bathtub and out of my head (part 2-Anxiety)

Click to embiggen
pt 1 - depression (Blarry)

Bekky + Blarry = Blarky

Click to embiggen.

When I am depressed, I don't feel like myself.
I feel like my depression talks for me and makes me behave in a way I wouldn't usually.

Spelling.

Get out of my bathtub and out of my head. (part 1 - depression)

Anxious Head: Getting carried away.

click image to embiggen

Goals

Every year I set high goals for myself.

The goals are technically achievable, not accounting for any depressive episodes, general other sicknesses, personal budget crises or miscellaneous life mishaps. 

Every year I don't achieve the goals and I beat myself up. 

"I'm a failure" I tell myself. 

"I will have to do TWICE as much next year to make up for my lack of life progress".

This is not only nonsense, but it is a very destructive cycle.

I put so much pressure on myself to be "successful" (whatever that means).

I'm constantly striving for GREATNESS.

Because if I'm not IMPRESSIVE then what's the point of anything??

Now greatness is great, but okayness is far more achievable.

After the return of my depression towards the end of last year, I have decided that this year I will set one goal for myself:

Just get by.

Because my brain is in a constant state of panic, telling me I need to be doing THIS THING and practice THAT OTHER THING and work on bettering EVERY SINGLE THING... this is challenging for me, but very important.

There's nothing wrong with "just getting by".

It's okay to be okay.

now if you'll excuse me...

Getting better.

I am working on getting back to (and maintaining) "okay".

It's still takes a lot of energy. Most of my energy. Most of the time.

But at least I'm trying.

My depression does not go away. 

It is always with me, but that does not mean I am always suffering.

I'm working on a few drawings about "being okay".

"Being okay" is so underrated. 

There's so much pressure on "being happy".

I really wanna talk more about "okay".

Because in comparison to depression,"okay" is a truly glorious state of bliss. 

Even though it's not exactly the best (happy), it's better than the other thing.

Facebook's Year in Review / How happy we look on the internet.

My year according to Facebook:

That one time you put some effort into making your
hair do that nice wavy thing and smiled in a photo...
this was the only day of the year 
that your hair looked nice.

That one time you had a nice time with some friends
that you never see anymore.

That one time you went to that beautiful place
but you did not even swim.

 My year really:

July

September

November

The recent theme of dying birds.

Hello.

I've discovered a bit of a theme happening regarding the very emotional deaths of birds.

You can read the stories here:

• The Ramblings

• The Nest

For reasons unknown to me, I have found myself deeply saddened by these losses. 

I am not what you would call a "bird person" although now that I think about it, I had a couple of cockatiels as a kid, and I own some toucan earrings...so, maybe I am?

It might just be that I love animals.

Today I have a new story for you, consistent with the theme of dying birds...

The Sparrow in Peril 

I was having lunch with a friend. 

We were having a very serious discussion, I think we were talking about suicide. 

As he was talking, I noticed behind him there was a small brown sparrow on the ground. 

It looked like it had crash landed! I could see that it was breathing, but it was being weird. 

Now, the events that unfold from this point in the story happen within a space of approximately 7 seconds...

The First Second

I interrupted my friend and said "hey what's the deal with that bird?" 

The Second Second

Before he could turn around to see "what the deal was with that bird", from out of nowhere, a seagull appears and walks up to the sparrow. 

The Third Second

A sense of dread has formed through my body, my friend and I both mutter something like "uh there's a seagull" and then, shit got real. 

The Fourth and Fifth Seconds

The seagull snatched the sparrow up in its cruel orange beak, the sparrow hangs by its wing, and I am shouting from my chair "NO!!! YOU PUT HIM DOWN!!!"

Of course, the seagull does not speak English. 

The Sixth and Seventh Seconds

I have abandoned my friend. I am running towards the birds. The seagull is an absolute bastard and starts to run away from me with the Sparrow still in its bastard seagull beak. Of course, I am faster than a seagull. I pride myself on this. So, as I make a strange kicking gesture towards the bastard gull, the sparrow is released.

-The story returns to normal time now-

I have successfully managed to get the sparrow released from the clutches of a bleak, beaky death.

But now what? 

I am standing in the middle of a concrete area. 

Many people sit outside to eat their lunch here. 

There are cafes and corporate offices surrounding me. 

I stand there and look down at the little bird on its side, panting, talons curled up (flashback to the sparrow from The Ramblings). 

There is another man that must have seen my rather odd bird-chase scene. 

He walks over and is now staring down at the sparrow with me. 

I say to the stranger "I don't know what to do now". 

He says "It's probably going to die anyway".

Hopelessness takes over. 

Now the little thing is just suffering. 

The seagull is circling us like a fucking bastard shark. 

Just waiting for us to back off so he can eat the sparrow*.

Two ladies walk over. 

We briefly discuss the seagull being a jerk, and that "death by seagull" is no way to go. 

One of the ladies bends down, scoops up the little sparrow, and starts checking its wings. 

She says
"The wings aren't broken, so that's good"

I say "Are you a vet?"
She says "I'm a vet nurse"

...

Are you fucking kidding me?

This is like when a person has a heart attack on the street, and someone says "Somebody get a doctor!" and then one of the passers by is like "I'm a doctor!" and IT'S JUST CRAZY AND AMAZING!

I had just mentally prepared myself for the fact that I had saved this bird from being murdered, just so it could die a slow, painful death. But fuck no, there's a god damn vet nurse up in here.

After a bit of an assessment, vet nurse says "I think he's okay, just a bit dazed. Where are you sitting? Just keep an eye on him and he'll fly off in about 10 minutes"

We return to my friend at our table.

Vet Nurse tries to gently nudge the bird on to the chair but he's not having it.

I put my hand out and he climbs onto my finger.

He sits perched on my finger. 

I see a fellow staff member, she notices the bird and calls me "Snow White". 

We sit for 5-10 minutes.

We name him Herbert. I have become emotionally attached. 

But I am also eagerly hoping he will soon fly off and live a happy life.

Shortly, he does fly off...straight into a glass window. What a dingus. 

I'm not sure if he's in shock or just stupid. 

I mean how did he get on the ground in the first place? 

Remember I said it looked like he crash landed? 

It's entirely possible I just interrupted natural selection. 

I scoop him back up, walk him over to some hedges and set him down.

He disappears into the shrubbery.

I don't know what will happen to him. Maybe he'll just die. My friend said maybe Herbert will have babies and maybe his babies have babies and maybe they will save the world or something.

But because in the end everything is about me of course, I feel a little better about what happened with the nest, and my sad encounter with the small sparrow from the ramblings. Because This Sparrow now gets to kick ass and do awesome shit if it wants to, or just fly into glass windows if that's what it's into. 

Here are some drawings:

Since when did birds eat smaller birds! I mean I know owls eat smaller owls...but seagulls eating sparrows!? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO? My theory is that humans fed seagulls chicken...and now they have the taste of bird flesh they've turned into CANNIBALISTIC MONSTERS.

How are you feeling?

Stop it, you're killing it :'(

The Ramblings.

Hello, 

I would just like you to know that I have been posting on this blog as a retrospective experience of anxiety and depression. I have been living depression free for 5 years! The anxiety I have had since I was 12, and I have been living with and managing it ever since. 

Unfortunately, this year the depression returned, like a punch in the head.

Over the last couple of months, I have been writing down the thoughts I've been having that I don't usually have. 

The way I think when I'm depressed scares me. But I've documented some of the obscure thoughts here. With some pictures. So... yay?

I don't usually like wordy things unless they're funny. But whatever.


I went to Brunswick last night.
I came home with the following things:

• 1 Big blue vase, 
• 1 Darth Vader shirt for Joey
  (Joey calls Darth Vader "The Captain", I don't know why. It's cute though)
• 1 bottle of eyedrops
• 1 box of antidepressants

It's been a week since I did this and I haven't started taking them yet because I am just too frightened.

~

Last week, I saw one of those little brown sparrows (the ones that are always in shopping centre food courts) lying dead on the ground.
On the side of the footpath in the city, just under a tree with a thin trunk.

• Initial feelings of sadness for the very small bird, alone on the path in the city... 
• overwhelming sense of mortality.

• Imagine my own little body lying dead under the thin-trunked tree, lying on my side, my talons curled up, people just walkin' by, in their suits.
• Stomach ache.

~

My flatmate was trying to justify buying an expensive new phone when his friend said "In a thousand years, none of this will mean anything, nothing will matter" which made my flatmate feel better about buying an expensive phone.

I adapted this into my daily worries. Whenever I become uncontrollably anxious about something, I tell myself "in a thousand years, the stress I feel right now will be so irrelevant to everything, so why does it feel like the biggest, scariest, life changing, universe-altering thing ever?" Basically, I'm trying to put things in perspective, you know, not worry so much about the little things.

Then I become overwhelmed by the idea that I mean nothing, and if I just die it wouldn't matter. Because in a thousand years my existence won't mean SHIT.

~

Jaw clenched so hard, teeth could explode.
Body tremors like a human earthquake.

Body wants to cry, body wants to vomit.
Body hasn't got the energy and won't produce a single tear or slightest bile.
It's like needing to sneeze, but you can't get it out, and then you make this horrible face and you twist your nose in a funny way.

Then numbness, except for a very dull ache in my head.

These thoughts aren't my regular thoughts and yet they're in my head.