Dear Depression –

Dear Depression,

I hate how you pull me down into an emotional mess of nothing. I have no energy and I don’t want to do anything. Just getting dressed is a struggle some days because of you. Nights are getting more and more lonely. I know I have people I can talk to, but I just feel guilty dumping you on them because you’re mine.

I don’t have an appetite like I used to. Some days I barely eat anything. Other days I eat entirely too much. I never know what each day is going to hold.

Things are too complicated with you. Some days you leave me alone and other days you cling to me like I’m the air in your lungs. I don’t understand it.

I was taking one dose of a medication before and it wasn’t enough, then the dose was doubled to the full dose and now it’s like it’s too much. It’s almost having a negative effect. But maybe that’s you taking over. I don’t know. All I can say is that I don’t like it.

I just want to curl up in my bed and sleep. Watch Netflix until my vision goes blurry from starting at the screen too long. I don’t want to worry about what other people think of me for admitting that I need help. I don’t want to admit that I need help. I don’t want people to think less of me because I’m struggling.

You are a horrible evil creature that has decided to take up residence inside my brain and I don’t care for it. I don’t understand what twisted kind of fun you think this is. It’s all kinds of twisted. I don’t know what to do with you. You’re taking away parts of me that I used to love. My desire to read has greatly decreased since you came in. My ability to write anything I feel is worthy of sharing has diminished.

I cannot wait until I have the right medication that puts you under its thumb so I can start feeling better finally.

Sincerely,
A girl who cannot take much more

Slowly Moving

Please forgive me if this post seems a little dreary. The weather outside is doing that to me – it’s dark already and quite cold as I sit in Starbucks writing this. I guess I more enjoy summer’s long days over winter days that grow dark entirely too early. I feel like my depression is getting worse with the cold, dark, depressing weather. I think this whole seasonal affective disorder thing on top of my depression is just getting to be too much to deal with for me right now.

I need to get into writing more on a daily basis. I’ve been doing a dear autumn thing on another blog I have, and keeping up with it, but it’s still a struggle. I feel somewhat guilty because I just do not know what to post there. I want to post about someone I lost or my depression or how I do not know what to write, but none of that seems good enough. It’s like I write something and when I finish it doesn’t seem long enough to be able to justify posting it so I trash it instead of saving it and revisiting it another time and possibly adding more.

I would write about my depression but that seems like such a repetitive topic. If I really want to write about it, then I need to come up with different angles to write about it from. Which I can totally do, I just need to actually put some effort into it.

I would write about someone that I lost, but that wouldn’t really have much interest to the rest of you. It would just be something like writing letters to them and posting them here.

I would write about how I don’t know what to write, but that almost seems redundant. I would just be writing about how I can’t think of anything that seems interesting. But with my luck, some of you would actually find that interesting.

I’m watching people in the reflection in the window and it’s somewhat entertaining. They’re doing strange things. Well, not really strange, but one of them is doing something that I wouldn’t expect to see in a coffee shop – there’s a girl painting her nails. I don’t know that I’d necessarily want to do that somewhere like this.

Creativity Isn’t Just for Kindergarteners

Yesterday my friend Sarah and I were talking about self-therapy and what we do for ourselves when we’re feeling down. I want to say that I said something about writing, and she mentioned that she does art. I said that I had kind of given up on art a while ago because I always felt like I was never good enough. She suggested that I give it a shot anyway. So I did. I drew the picture you can see in my last post. She took the uncolored version and ran with it to create an article. She then got permission from me to use my picture, and of course I said yes.

Today, we find out that it made it to the front page of the website under ‘Creativity’. We’re so in shock/awe that we’re lost for words. All we can say it’s “I can’t believe it!” and “It’s crazy!” and “It’s SO awesome!”

That about sums up how we’re feeling about this.

The Midnight Visitor

Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. Normally I wasn’t awake at this time of night. There had to be a problem for me not to be fast asleep.

I stayed in my bed, safe and warm under my blankets. There was this voice in my head telling me to get up and walk around. As much as I yearned to roll over and go back to sleep, I decided to get up and explore the apartment.

Opening my bedroom door, there was a draft of cold air. It was November outside, but I didn’t remember leaving anything open. Cautiously, I continued toward the living room.

Nothing was left open or broken. However I was overwhelmed with an array of negative thoughts. They were so bombarding that I collapsed in the middle of the floor. I couldn’t ignore the voices.

You’re worthless
No one loves you
You’ll never amount to anything
You’re ugly
You’re selfish
You’re fat
You’re hopeless
You can’t do anything right
You’d be better off dead

Those things swirled around in my head uncontrollably. I heard my phone right back in my room and I crawled to get it. My boyfriend was still awake and had messaged me. He said he loves me. That was enough to silence the monsters. At least temporarily.

I sat there staring at my phone for a while, just letting it sink in. When I was finally beginning to believe that someone (and many others) love(s) me, I made myself some coffee and sat down at the table to write this.
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I’m Feeling 22

Yes, I really did just title this post after a Taylor Swift song. Get over it people.

Here’s to hoping that 22 will be better than 21. Not that 21 was necessarily a bad year, but there were some things that I would prefer not to repeat.

I’ve started trying to write in my journal on a daily basis now. It won’t necessarily be easy, but I’m making an effort to at least write something before I go to bed. The days I’m at school should be easier since I have the gaps between classes when I can sit down and write. Doing this also means that I’m making an effort to keep writing and do something even when I’m feeling really low – which is a good thing for me.

Writing has kind of been a self-therapy for me because I don’t feel comfortable with therapists. I had some bad experiences with one and it kind of caused an aversion for me. It’s not a good thing that I avoid them, but it’s what I do unfortunately. I don’t know when I’ll feel like I’m ready to go back to one, but for now I think I’m doing ok with my blogging and journaling, and talking with friends.

I know it doesn’t really feel like it to me all the time, but I am a Stigma Fighter with Sarah. The fact that I blog about it here and am planning to go on the university tour with her and Jess makes it true. I just have to remind myself that I am helping to break down the terrible stigma that surrounds mental illness. I am so glad to be part of this team and to be able to call these ladies my friends.

Is It the Worst Thing You Can Be Called?

This is a beautiful post written by a good friend of mine. These are thoughts I had but was never able to find the words to express.

Borderline Blondie

A lot of times I will see someone reply to someone’s opinion or comment saying “you must be mentally ill”.

I’m sorry, but is calling someone “mentally ill” the most offensive thing to be called now? Is mental illness the pinnacle of the worst traits anyone could have? Is it supposed to be the be all, end all to insults?

Hell, no. And it’s extremely offensive that people decided that insulting each other by calling each other “mentally ill” is appropriate and funny. It isn’t. It’s rude and demeaning to people like me. Yes, I have a mental illness. No, that does not make me less of a person, ignorant, stupid, ugly, or anything else. It simply means my brain is sick and needs some help. That’s it.

I mean, would you insult someone by saying “oh, you must have the flu” or “you must be diabetic”? No, of course…

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Waiting Games

Honestly, this whole thing is like a massive waiting game. Wait to see if the drug you’re given is gonna work. And then wait to go back for a follow-up about it. I’m currently in that situation. I’ve almost hit the three week mark where it should be starting to really work. It’s frustrating because I’ve been on this medication for 20 days now. I got back for a follow-up in 13. I wish I could say that I feel like it’s finally starting to work like it should, but I can’t. But it’s not doing that. Or at least it doesn’t feel that way.

I don’t know what the problem is exactly, but things just don’t feel right.

I feel just as bad as before, if not slightly worse. I’ve had some really weird dreams. I can’t fall asleep at night; when I do fall asleep, I can’t stay asleep for very long. My emotions build up and come out when I least expect it. Sex doesn’t hold the same appeal that it used to. If I take my meds too far from the same time every day, I get a headache.

It’s getting more difficult to push myself to get all my school work done. The only thing I seem to be doing ok with is my online math class. Go figure… I guess cause I can see immediately that it’s done and graded. But I’m not doing as good as I thought cause I got a really crappy score on my first test.

My ASL 4 class is difficult since it’s the last thing before I go home and I’ve been sitting around campus for almost 6 hours before I go in.

My Deaf Culture class is just a lot of reading. It’s all interesting, but it’s tough to force myself to push through the text when it’s boring and repetitive. The discussions in class are always hilarious because of the students and Paula’s comments/comebacks.

My VGC (Visual Gesture Communication) class is first thing in the morning and we’ve got to think outside the box because we’re not allowed to use any signs. It’s not my favorite thing, but some of the girls in there make it tolerable. 

I’m starting to get really anxious having to wait for my dr appt. The closer it gets, the more difficult it is waiting for everything to happen. I just want the answers now. But I know I can’t get them yet and I have to get through each day till then.

People are either irritating or terrifying. I want to be more outgoing than I am, but it’s difficult. I’m always afraid someone is going to sense something off about me and make a judgement and walk away. It’s just something that I’m scared of. I know it seems absolutely ridiculous, but it’s true. I just fear the judgement of others for things that aren’t even relevant to what’s happening.