20/20 Updated

Originally published December 17, 2019

I’ve completely lost my self and everything I was. I was once a writer, thriving, a queen. I wrote about mental health which now seems so obscure. How can I help others when I can’t even help myself? So many looked up to me for that. And, I’ve failed you all plus myself. I need the support more than ever. I need to get back on my horse and learn to gallop and jump hurdles again. I wish this were easy to follow. I’m struggling for a will. Without a will there is no way. I am in such a dark place and ruining all of my relationships. I’m sorry, I am sorry for all I have done. I’m suicidal and bipolar - I don’t understand it so how can others? Have I really lost my way? Can I reverse this? What am I to do? I have no desire to get up, out of bed or to leave my house in which I despise so much. I can’t be here but where can I just be? Out in the world there are so many possibilities but I can’t get myself to believe in anything but this sadness. I want my life back, I want to smile, laugh and jump in joy. I want to pull it together and do this thing called life. I want the excitement and the thrill of accomplishing goals no matter how small. I am exhausted and fighting for my life. In the literal terms fighting. The demons are consuming every cell, every breathe, my heart, my kidneys, my muscles, my flesh, and my skin. 

Update: September 16, 2021

A year and a half later it all seems like a blur. Dictated and driven by sadness and despair. I needed help. I wasn’t sure where to start. If a paper and pen could really restore everything I once was and who I wanted to continue to be we wouldn’t be here. Being shaped by hurt and anger set me up to be a failure of my own beliefs. My words became letters with no meaning, feelings with no expression or reason. An empty book filled with invisible ink. Nothing in my life was legible. My cursive letters became scribbled lines leading in circles no where. Everyday was filled with fear and hopelessness of never breaking free. I needed an out but could that have really helped? Running had always worked but my legs where heavy in a pool of quick sand. I waited until I sunk, and boy did I sink. This fear kept me in the despair, I was lonely, and defeated. Exhausted. I was morbidly exhausted. Who saves the saver? Little did I know, I wasn’t alone. Wrapped up in my hopelessness, I was found and I was saved. (I promise this isn’t some weird kind of religious shit, but an awakening from those who knew me and my heart). My mother and my friends did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. There aren’t enough words in the English language that could describe how they brought me back to being Darian. I appreciate you all dearly, thank you for saving my life and helping me continue. Without you, I’m not sure where I’d be and that is the most honest statement written in this post.