Stress…

It’s a pretty common thing in my life. It’s something I can find at home, at school, with friends, pretty much anywhere. Honestly, I think it’s a common thing in everyone’s lives.

The most recent stress I had was when a friend who hurt me pretty bad last month (see this post for explanation) asked me to do something for him while he’s trying to make amends with me. A friend that we both know has some of his stuff. I reminded her last night the he wants his stuff back today. Apparently she didn’t show today – I had nothing to do with it. So he asked me to get the stuff from her for him – because he doesn’t want to deal her. Is he serious? I told him: “No. I’m not going to be in the middle of this anymore. If you really want your stuff back that bad, you need to talk to her yourself. I’m done doing things like this for other people. I’ve gotten hurt doing it too many times. I”m putting my foot down about it once and for all.

I could see doing that if this was before he did what he did last month. But at this point? I’m not playing this game anymore. I’m not going to do things like this for him, or anyone at all for that matter. People need to learn to do things for themselves even if they don’t like it.

Guess what? Welcome To Life – the place where almost every single thing you have to do, you’re not gonna like.

We’re not 6 anymore. We’re all in college. It’s about time that we learned now to grow up and just do what needs doing. It may hurt your heart/pride/ego, but if it needs doing, then you need to just friggin get it done.

On your own. I’m not your mom. I’m not doing this stuff for you. Ever.

What is Depression?

I am not depressed.
I can still smile at pretty thing.
And laugh when jokes are funny.
I can still talk to people.
And enjoy nice days.

But when I go inside.
When I am alone,
There is something broken.
And I fall into a sadness so sweet
That it engulfs me.
I look in the mirror.
And I don’t like what I see.
And the tears always fall
When I’m falling asleep.
And I miss something
That doesn’t exist.

I am not depressed.
I’ve just been sad for a while.
But I can still find the light.
I can still smile.

Sometimes this seems like an incredibly painfully accurate description of me, despite the fact that I am depressed.

I may not always look like it, but I am. But really, what does depressed look like? Is it all black clothes? Messy unwashed hair? Wrinkled clothes? No makeup? There is no “look” of depression.

It’s hard to peg someone. In high school, I never would’ve guessed that one of my best friends was on anti-depressants – but she was, for a year. I don’t know if she ever went back on them, but she’s doing just fine now. I mean, I thought she was going fine when she was on them.

Sure, there are times you can look at me and know something’s wrong. But who isn’t like that? Maybe I’m lost in thought. Maybe I’m planning something. Maybe I’ve got a headache. Maybe I feel sick. There’s no telling what’s going on.

Honestly, every day is a battle. A battle to stay on top of my school work. A battle to get dressed. A battle to function like a “normal” person. A battle to pretend I’m on. A battle to hide it from everyone. A battle that I don’t really want to fight most times.

I know that probably sounds terrible. I’m a Stigma Fighter with Sarah, but that doesn’t mean that I’m always gonna be able to pull myself up by my bootstraps and push forward. Sometimes it feels like I’m sitting at the bottom of a hole and reaching up to the hands that are reaching down to me, and there’s too much space between us even if I stand up and jump.

Late Night Conversations

Sitting up talking to my friend Stephanie (Borderline Blondie) about mental illness diagnoses at like 12:30 in the morning can be interesting. It’s the girls like her, that I am so glad to have in my life. Because they’re the ones who understand and sympathize and empathize when things go wrong, and celebrate with you when things are going good.

It’s incredibly difficult to talk to someone about what we’re facing on a daily basis when that person doesn’t understand, or even try to. When I realize that they don’t really seem to care about the fact that I’m struggling, and there are things, however small, that they could do to help but just can’t be bothered, that’s when I want to give up on being honest with them. I mean, really, why should I waste my time and my breath talking/explaining things to a person who couldn’t care less? I just don’t see the point in doing that.

As much as we might hate someone, and they might be our worse enemy, we still wouldn’t wish what we’re facing on them. I might wish that they could understand, sure, but I don’t want them to suffer through what I am.

Some of those same people who don’t understand what we’re going through, they think that we’re faking it. That we’re doing this because we want pity or attention. But that’s not the case. We didn’t choose to be like this. This is not something that we opted into. It’s a chemical imbalance in our brains. It is a legitimate medical diagnosis, whether they believe it or not. We know it is, and so do other people, and that’s what counts.

Flip a Switch

I sit here, wanting to write something, wanting to spend my time writing something for other people to see on my blog. But I have no clue what to write about. I struggle for ideas because I feel like I don’t really have something to offer. This blog is just an extension of my brain, but I don’t know if anyone actually wants to read it. 

School started a couple week ago for me, and my brother went back today. I haven’t actually been on campus for over a week now because of the way my schedule is currently, but that’s changing tomorrow.

So I started working on this post earlier, and I had some idea of where I was going with it, but now I’ve got no clue. And there’s something else that I want to write about now anyway. 

I was talking about something with a friend the other day, and I got to the point that I didn’t know what to say and I felt awful so I just stopped responding. But before I did that, I told them that I didn’t know how to be human. I found out later that they didn’t want me to go, but they didn’t know what to say to make me stay either. At this point I know I can’t change what happened, but I just wish they’d at least tried cause I feel like they just gave up. And something would’ve been better than nothing. They would’ve at least been able to say that they tried.

I realize that, you know, I’m not always the easiest person to deal with but if you make no effort to get me to stay, how can you expect me to know what you want? 

The problem is, that, when things like that happen, I can’t just flip a switch and fix everything. My brain chemistry doesn’t work like that. I don’t know of anyone whose does.

Honestly, I cry when I get frustrated/upset. I can’t help it. It just kinda happens. I know I need to learn how to deal with confrontations – even though that really wasn’t one – but it’s something that’s much easier said than done. 

Another thing I need to work on is not being so, frustrated, I guess, when people don’t respond back to me in the time I want them to. I know they’re busy. I know they have other things that they’re doing. But somehow I still manage to let it get under my skin that they’re “taking too long”. It’s stupid I know.