Misery loves company.

"Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life."

-J.K Rowling.

Have you ever just wanted to disappear for a while? Get up and vanish? Imagine your life without you, or perhaps, with someone else living your life? I have. A series of low days caused me to fall into this negative way of thinking. I'm a pessimistic person anyway, but I sunk pretty low recently, and ended up mulling over stuff like this. The feeling of being away from it all. A break from the life you're living to just relax, chill, forget, de-stress, some necessary R&R. 

I've had all the cliches fired my way, including "it's their loss" and "everything happens for a reason" and eventually, I just wanted to scream. It was right, I did want to escape. I strived for more of an escape than music, or television, or film, or literature, or friends or even alcohol could give me. I wanted the solace, the solidarity, the absence of something more than just a sitcom or a song blurring in the background of my mind. However, I found, that during a hard time, the more I tried to isolate myself, the more company I found myself in. I shut my bedroom door and hid beneath the covers. I turned my phone off, and was absence from any social networking I'm usually such a big part of. I ignored texts and phonecalls. I missed the escape of television. I lost interest in the outside world. I fell behind on my Uni work and reading. I didn't pick up a book, or my ipod, or anything. I sat in such a deafening silence that just made me want to cry and never stop. It was awful.

So, that's when I thought, what if there are people out there that don't want me to go AWOL for a while? What if there's someone out there depending on me, needing me, or just trying to get in touch with me? I gradually reappeared. I left my bedroom. Turned my phone back on. Tweeted, logged into Facebook, Blogged, emailed, Snapchatted even. I put some make up on, and got dressed up. I turned the television on and the radio up and did all I possibly could to drown out the silence I was now stuck in. And apparently, that was all I needed to do. My support system leaked through my walls, and every social networking site you can think of. Friends text me, arranged meetings and made plans to see if I was in fact as 'fine' as I'd told them all. Nights out were arranged, smiles slapped on faces, drinks poured and heavily drank, laughter was even heard. Turns out, misery does love company, but not in that sense.

I gave myself some space to cope. Some silence to appreciate the noise I was trying to drown out in the first place. Now, I thrive in the shouts, the constant whir of contact I have. While at my lowest, I questioned everything and everyone in my life, as a personal matter of insecurity, when I needed them the most, they forced themselves into my life (and me out of bed) and refused to take "no" for an answer. I got hugs and happy messages thrown my way. Positivity was practically drowning me, and yet, I had the wonderful support system around me to keep my head above water. As it happens, lonesome misery is exhausting but sometimes, it's necessary. I didn't want to sit and vent to loved ones about something I felt so strongly about. It was, in a sense, private. I didn't know who to tell or speak to. But after coming out of a temporary hiding, they were all there for me. Eagerly awaiting my company, and being ready, if I needed it, to be the shoulder to cry on. For this, I am undeniably grateful.

So, this is for everyone who helped me through something that hit me really hard. Something that left tears in my eyes and a suffocating feeling in my chest. To my family, who were there and didn't ask too many questions, and my endless string of friends who gave me time to sulk, cry and get back on my feet. For all the hugs and positive words, the venting, the coffee (and alcohol) supplied, the comfort food, never saying "I told you so" even when you know you did, the silly laughs, the reminder of what I'm worth. I won't name you all, because you know who you are, and that's what I like about it. I just really need you all to know that I'm very thankful for you being there for me, and not walking away even when I pushed you.


...If I stopped lying, I'd just disappoint you.