Self-Destruction – Anxiety Blog

This post is going to be personal. It is me taking a very honest, critical look at myself and how my mental state could be the result of my own self-destruction.

Recipe for Destruction


My diet has always been awful. During high school, I was more interested in spending my lunch money on cigarettes and alcohol for the weekend. This didn’t change when I started my brief few months while at tech or when I started working full-time. I have a love-hate relationship with food, either I overeat or don’t at all. When I do eat, I generally have a “no rules” attitude. It’s whatever is satisfying and it’s always impulsive. This leads to takeaways, vending machine lunches and weight bungee jumping. Which in turn leads to poor health, zero nutrients, and lethargy.

I’ve struggled with eczema since I was a child. Over the years I would blame everything but my diet on why my skin could have a flare-up. In reality, sugar and poor choices are to blame. This all leads to a negative self-image and has diminished my confidence a lot.

Escape-ism / mental-ism

I have an addictive personality. There are no two ways about it. I do everything to the extreme. This can be a blessing or a curse. I find myself getting into a project and really throwing myself in. Which can be great to have that consuming focus. Especially when it can be used productively with my art, or more recently writing.

However, if I try something I like, then I can quickly become obsessed. Regrettably, this was marijuana and prescription drugs for the longest time. It was my ultimate “switch-off”, when struggling with anxiety or depression I found it helped me numb out the stress of it all. It was cheap (to begin with), getting high was a lot easier than getting drunk. I had even convinced myself that it was harmless, or even beneficial. Granted I could definitely be doing a lot worse. I could also be doing a lot better. The first time I tried it, I couldn’t believe the difference in my perspective.


I was recreationally using during my teenage years. During my early twenties it became chronic, if I wasn’t at work then I was either getting trying to get hold of or using weed. I was in an unhealthy relationship for 2-3 years during my early twenties. I became jealous, paranoid, obsessed and possessive. My partner during that time didn’t help matters, nor did our drug use. In the end, when it finally cracked and I ended that chapter of my life. Leaving with so much guilt, self-hatred and hurt. I felt like a monster, how I could let something or someone turn me into a person I didn’t want to be. I shut away my friends and my family. Weed became my only friend. The only thing that made me feel better or less ashamed of myself.

Losing myself, lead to finding myself

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and to find my soul”

Whilst I was in the eye of the storm, I felt like I had lost connection to the world and people around me. I was obsessed with my own existence during this time. Why was I here? What was the purpose? I flooded my mind with spiritual questions, meditation and tried to get to my Anātman (non-self) conscious state. I had experienced a slight “dark night of the soul” one night prior to this trip, I truly got a  glimpse of life itself and experienced the “oneness” that connects us all. This was while I was high one night, it left me reduced to tears of awe. My own mother saw this and I was convinced I was on a spiritual path. The only time I had ever experienced anything close to this “connected” feeling was when I had taken Psilocybin mushrooms, also known as psychedelic mushrooms.

The trip on my path…

I took a trip to Amsterdam, Holland with my best friend. The journey this time was different. I just knew that if the universe had an answer, then my consciousness needed to be on the same frequency. Hence the trip.

I will go into more details in the future on what I had experienced during this trip. It was good, bad, enlightening, and extremely scary. It’s safe to say I had a “bad trip”. I had actually forgotten that I had even consumed the mushrooms and continued to then smoke a lot of hash, and then order some drinks (DO NOT RECOMMEND). Although the mushrooms definitely did their work, I was so lucky to have my best friend with me at this time. The reality was no more. At one point I thought I had died and was in purgatory, another that an alien spaceship was offering to abduct me and another that I was telepathic.

That doesn’t even touch all I had experienced that night. A few things came out of it; how much I valued my sanity. How much I didn’t want to escape reality anymore and how much I cherished the people who were in my life. I think that night was my turning point.

Out of the ashes, a phoenix is born

Once I had finally arrived back home, I knew I was a new person. I had been reborn, given a second chance even. I still dabbled briefly in the odd joint. Old habits die-hard. It wasn’t the same escape anymore though. I started to let people back in again. Once I did that, I knew I could be a better person, the reason we are all here; love. As cheesy and cut-out as it sounds, it’s what helped me on my way to recovery.

One door closes… One more opens

This new freedom allowed me to experience another relationship. It didn’t last though, or take long before I was back chasing my “escape methods”, I truly believe that people come in and out of your life for either a reason, a season or a lifetime. It was apparent that this relationship was for a reason. I had learned some self-respect again, I learned that I deserved to be happy.

Eventually, I ended up in my current relationship. I’ve never met anyone like this person, it’s just so easy and our lives fit together so well. Were actually good for each other and those around us.

Working on it….

However…. my anxiety and panic attacks began when this relationship began. I’m still trying to figure out why. Now that I’m not trying to escape life, is the built-up karma getting me back? Learning how to deal with emotions is hard. Finding your true self and maintaining selfless-ness is harder than learning to lose your ego, and deny self. The main reason I am writing this blog is as a journal. To help myself categorise events and thoughts in a healthy manner. This post wasn’t easy to write and doing this publicly is scary. If you’ve taken the time to read this far, then thank you for following my story. If this journal/blog is interesting to at least one other person or helps another even slightly then ill know its worth it.

Think that’s enough for one night, time to take my crazy pills and get some sleep!

Peace out folks!

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