A Few Days in The Life...

This is for the Dear Diary... Competition. Please be considerate these are true events.

Some of the events have been exaggerated/altered to protect the individuals. Majority of this is real life. However, some stories have had to be changed to stop people from figuring out who these people are. No one in these stories are at a point where their life is in danger. People are aware of their situations. But as said, for privacy reasons stories have had to be exaggerated. Sorry.

Also, there could be triggers in here, so please be careful.


1. 22nd December 2015

"It's... about turning your life experience into a story that other people can read and follow." The description of this writing competition. I'm curious though, would people want to follow a story that's so sad. I'm not saying my life's sad, I live a wholesome life, I have both parents, a loving family, good grades, great friends. I have everything a person requires to be happy. However, I also have things that block me from experiencing that happiness; mental illness. I'm real curious, how many people will read a story from someone's view point who see's the world so negatively? The way people like me see the world, it isn't beautiful, nor is it romantic. It's sad. It's frustrating. Why would anyone choose to read that? Although, I suppose, it's a learning experience. It's the closest someone will get to experiencing a day in the life of someone like me. Maybe the people who read this will not sympathise with me, rather recognise how I feel. Maybe the people who read this will become aware of their own struggles. Maybe my story could help someone else. That is the best possible scenario. Doubtful, however.

For the past few days I haven't been able to sleep. Not because of the temperature, nor because of the noise. It's not because i'm not tired. Honestly, i'm bewildered as to why I am incapable of sleeping. I've been surviving on about two hours of sleep a night for the past week. It's so tiring. By the time I can finally get to sleep i'm forced to wake up and accept my responsibilities. Responsibilities like work, cleaning, babysitting, going out with friends. This morning I woke up at 7:30am, last night I went to sleep at 4am. I got ready in about fifteen minutes and arrived at the house of the children I would be babysitting. I spent the day running around, playing games, watching movies, cooking, cleaning and doing crafts. I left the house at 3pm. I showered and completed getting ready for work. At 4:15pm I left for work.

Work was eventful tonight. I met some interesting people. I actually enjoy my job. Apart from the 1000 dishes I have to do every night, it's a great job. It's a lovely place to work. Everyone there is so kind. Tonight, I made a lot of mistakes. I was beginning to panic. And because I was in such a rush to complete every task I messed some up. I was in a panic state for majority of the night. You see, I have a panic disorder. I have panic attacks frequently. And one started tonight but I had no way out. I was forced to continue my life while I felt like I was dying. It's one of the worst things anyone could experience. It physically hurts. Anyway, I continued panicking until the very end of the night. The shop was empty and I was alone at the cashiers desk, so I thought, so I was lip syncing to the radio and dancing while I cleaned the benches. When I turned around a man was standing there smiling at me. I was rather embarrassed - to say the least. This man said something, however, that shocked me and stopped me feeling embarrassed. I was so sure I was going to be ridiculed for my bizarre dancing and distorted voice. But rather, I was complimented. This man, he thanked me for being happy. He said to me, 'Out of all the places I've been to today, out of all the shops, you're the only employee who's been happy. Thank you.' He laughed and he told me, 'By the way, your dance moves are incredible.' My heart that had been pounding in my chest all night long seemed to have calmed down and the sweat on my palms that was causing me to fumble had dried up. The phone rang, it's my job to answer. So I did. And immediately a woman started screaming in my ear. I didn't know what to do. She was causing me to panic once more. One of the kitchen staff, not a manager, just another employee, saw my panic and walked out to me. I was almost in tears, she asked me for the phone. I handed her the phone and watched as she spoke to this woman. She told this woman she had no right to yell at me. Then she hung up. The kitchen worker, let's call her Lili, then told me if anyone wanted to have a go at me again, to get her and she'd straighten them out for me. A young family then came in, it was just about closing time. They were waiting for an order. I was feeling uneasy once more. So I decided to bring in the chairs and tables from out the front. The girl from the family, no older than four, ran out and asked if she could help. I pretended to let her lift chairs, although i was really carrying them. She helped me bring in tables and banners and the bin. She helped me stack them all. It took me a half hour to complete a task that usually takes me ten minutes. But this girl, she was so happy. She was so excited to have been able to help do "big kid things."

I know so far this doesn't sound too sad. Rather, today was a good day. There was a lot of joy and support and heart warming moments with people from the community. But that was during the day. That was at work. That was around my nieces and nephews. That was while I was surrounded by people who I needed to be happy for. I'm alone now. Not surrounded by people who need me to smile. I'm sat in front of a computer listening to calming piano music. Typing about a day that seemed happy. Checking my phone once every now and again to see if anyone of importance had sent me a message.

My friend, Julia, we've been best friends for years. She's had a very bad week. You see, about a year ago the guy she loved did some nasty things to her. He broke up with her. He treated her like crap. He wrote a story about her and handed it out to the entire class. He'd give her dirty looks. And he blamed it all on me. They got close again over time. And they're dating again. But the other night, at about two in the morning, I sent her a text because she hadn't been replying to me. I knew something was wrong. And at first she wasn't going to tell me, because it was "dumb." But I convinced her to tell me, told her you can't get better if you face life by yourself. So she told me, 'I've just, I remembered everything he did and it's hurting again.' Well, that broke my heart. A few months ago Julia told me something very important. I can't help. Not really. The only thing I can do is make her smile. I can't make the pain go away, not really.

I've had it in my mind all day. I always have this kind of stuff in my mind. Always focusing on the people I love, always wanting to protect them. Always wanting to save them from any dangers they're in. 

I've always noticed things other people haven't, cuts hidden by jumpers or long shorts. Areas where their skin had been scratched up due to nervousness. Fingernails that have been bitten almost completely off. Hair being ripped out. Nervous eyes. Sadness in their voices. When they become withdrawn from people. I've always noticed. 

People can't keep things from me, I always find out. And sometimes I am glad. But sometimes, it saddens me. To know that these people are like me. Except, i've accepted it. I'm getting help. I'm on medication. But these people I care about, they're too afraid to reach out. They're too proud to admit they have a problem. And how am I supposed to help someone like that?

Anyway, I'm about to get food. I'm rather hungry. 

Today was a good day. 

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