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.

I'm not broken.

"We need to sort this out" you said, so matter-of-factly, like it was an equation we were trying to tackle. A problem that could be solved if only the answer could be calculated correctly. You were cold, with that blank look in your eyes. Don't say I'm being "dramatic" and "overreacting" when you know how I feel. Those stolen kisses seem so long ago. The smiles we shared, behind closed doors, the private silly little things we said to one another. Don't irrationalise my reactions just to keep your conscience clear. Shouts and screams, spat out words you can't take back. Slurred insults, the ugly truth announced to a less than willing audience. I told you to walk away, and yet there you stood, looking as arrogant as ever. That blank, smug look so effortlessly placed across your face. You stared straight through me, laughed in my face when I told you, and then, I screamed again. "Just walk away" and when you didn't, what did you expect? I've got more pride than that. To walk away meant so much more than just leaving a moment I didn't want or need to experience. It meant something final. Accepting that yet again, I'd made a huge mistake. Even though I spent such a long time defending your actions, as soon as the tables turned, I didn't need any persuasion. In floods of tears, I walked away. You watched me go, as if to humour me. Slamming the door of the taxi, falling into bed and crying until I was numb and shaky. Ignoring all my texts and phone calls. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I didn't want to hear those fake apologies, of even worse, the "I told you so." The torn moment between biting my tongue and blurting out everything I'd kept back for so long, and i did. It all just came flooding out, along with tears so violently down my cheeks, leaving my eyes bloodshot and my make up blotchy. I walked away from the tequila at the bar, the reassurances from friends, anyone who could attempt to console me. Some things need to be done alone, and with a sober head. The second chance I shouldn't have taken, the person I shouldn't have had to defend, the latest in a long line of mistakes. But don't get to thinking you're making me miserable. I'd rather break my neck than give you the satisfaction of crying over you. I'm stronger than I look y'know.

You.

You're the person I want to speak to at three in the morning because of a dream I've just had. The one whose name makes me smile as soon as I hear it. The only person I'd want to be drinking whiskey with in the middle of the night, exchanging random facts and sharing giggles. The one person who always puts a smile on my face. The one with the occasionally-altering shadow, but, still, you're there. You're the one that's there to hold my hand, or my hair back when I've drank too much. The one who is forever texting me, reads my blog and never fails to be there when I need you. The person I see in the mirror, the supermarket or in my imagination. Who is this person?

This person alters. They are in many places at once, and take on many different forms. My best friends, my wavering love-interests, my family, my awkward friends, my acquaintances, every single person who has had an impact on my life. I love you all. I need you all, and you all, in some way, I'd like to think, need me too.

Even the people who put me down or are waiting for me to screw up, I thank you. (slightly cliché  to thank "the haters") but that's not what this is. This is, merely, saying thank you, to everyone who has been in my life, whether it be for the long-haul, or just fleetingly, you all, I think, helped me to get to where, and who I am today. Maybe I do wish there are certain people I'd never met, become friends with, or even just had the unfortunate luck of bumping into, but in the long run, I truly am beginning to believe, even the bad times, give me a reason to smile. Because they are in the past, and everyone who put me down, needs to be shown, it was only temporary. I have a reason to smile, and the funny thing is, it's not because of, nor ever will it be, you. Your words don't sting like they used to.

Don't kick me when I'm down.

The human body is only as resilient as the beating heart, or so it would seem. Humans, by default, are supposed to be resilient, easy-going creatures, who have the ability to pick themselves up, dust themselves off and plaster a smile on their not-so happy faces. But, how many times can you fall before you hurt yourself, how many times can you be kicked before you fall down, never to get up again?

Recently, I have experienced a handful of things, a huge variation of events, which opened my eyes to the fact that I, am not as resilient and adaptable as I'd like to believe. I'm what you could call a pessimist by default, but not without reason. Lately, I've had so many knock-backs (both mentally and physically) that I've found it hard to not dwell on the all-encompassing negativity in my life. Don't get me wrong, I fully realise the extent to which I am lucky, and appreciate what and who I have in my life, but for the last few weeks, I've been totally, utterly and completely miserable. There's only so many times that you can break down before it starts to get to you. I recently lost someone very special to me, which I have previously blogged about, and which I suppose, as it were, the last straw, the final, hard-hitting piece of news that would shatter my soul and my whole belief system, if only temporarily. To say I've had a really bad couple of weeks, would be like sugar-coating Hell, or putting lipstick on a Doberman (any shade) It just isn't right. It doesn't work.

You could say I haven't had much luck when it comes to romance. So much so, that that word makes me draw back with repulsion. For every time I've ever been lead on, or let down, or told I wasn't right, or good enough, I've come to HATE that beautiful thing we call romance. Cynically, I don't believe in it. I don't believe that there's such thing as soul mates or fated plans, written in our stars, because, if there is, why are there so many good people, unhappy and lonely? Is it just simply because they haven't found The One? I've been screwed over too many times to just think it coincidental, or a mere work of fate. It came to the point where I didn't know whether I believed in it at all. I was sat down with some of my friends, and we were discussing boys, and the conversation came to The Keeper, as it were, the relationship that belittles all predecessors. Cue another disgusted face, because frankly, sometimes, it's necessary. There's nothing more condescending or aggravating than when someone who's in a relationship just tells you "you just haven't met them yet" (to paraphrase Michael Bublé.) Especially when you're in a wounded sorta phase. 

I actually blame my ever-so-trusting self. That makes me want to curse in itself, because I feel like i'm being punished for being a normal (cue the laughter from anyone who personally knows me) trusting human being. However, it can and has been said, I have a slight tendency to be gullible. I trust people too easily, and then, for some mad reason, I'm surprised when they let me down. In a world where we're surrounded by romantic, lovey-dovey propaganda, it's hard not to fall into the jaws of The Romantic. I know this too easily. Something happened quite recently that not only maddened me to my core, but temporarily lose faith in that so-called True Love concept. I put my trust in someone who I believed to care about me, and instead, after months of lies and mockery, I realised that it was just one big, hilarious joke to him. This isn't the first, or probably the last time something like this will happen to me, but all the same, it was unnecessarily cruel. I don't understand why anyone, male or female, would lead someone on, lead them to believe that they felt something they didn't, and then, dispose of them when they've served whatever sick purpose that may be.

It's hard to put your feelings on the line. It's even harder if every time you do, you get hurt and treated badly. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, or how long you persevere, there's always someone waiting to spoil your fun, break your neck or kick you when you're down. But, as we are, by default and necessity (with the combination of an open heart and a dash of hope) resilient, controlled little figures, we do what we know how to. We cry when we're upset, then seek consolation. We scream and shout and throw things and swear under your breath, or get drunk and stupid, rely on sarcastic texts and down-trodden glances. And in the end, we repeat. We DO pick ourselves back up, we DO dust ourselves off, and we DO slap a smile on our faces, and show them that no matter how much they try, or how hard they kick us, we will always, get back up again.

"YOU CAN'T BREAK ME."