I can't tell you how hard it's been the last few months to sit down and try to write a blog post. It's no secret how over-sensitive I am. I've come to learn that I have a higher than average level of empathy. I absorb the feelings of people around me and I also take criticism very hard. I am learning to let things roll off my back though, but it still takes me about two weeks to finally get to that point!
So what the hell have I been up to? I've been trying to understand and deal with my diagnosis of major recurring depression and anxiety. I think anyone who knows me is not surprised at this at all. I knew I had depression, not so much the anxiety though, but I didn't know how bad the depression was. I didn't want to deal with it. I wanted to die when I was in 5th grade because none of the kids would talk to me. I was some how "uncool" that year and teased and ignored by every single kid. It was horrible. I would go home where my father was gone every weekend with his girl friend. I was alone a LOT. I just wanted to die and be with my mother, that's all I wanted. High school was full of ups and downs. I remember being asked to Homecoming by this cute guy who was kind of a bad boy. I didn't know you were supposed to get a really nice dress for Homecoming so I wore a sweater and a skirt. We got to the dance and he didn't want to dance. We just stood there awkwardly. Then he wanted to leave and find a party to get drunk. I didn't drink so I didn't want to go. So he left me there and drove Main all night. I think my dad had to come get me. I cried all night, sneaked some of my dad's amaretto and took a bunch of cold pills. I also cut myself some times on my hands. So yeah, why I am surprised at having major depression is so dumb when I think about it. You tend to get tunnel vision when the "normal" for you is so dysfunctional. You can't see or understand anything else. My baby has been the catalyst to finally fucking DEAL with it. I have been in and out of therapy and on and off meds since high school. The stigma of being called "crazy" prevented me from sticking with it. And of course, the intense pain that therapy brings up is what made me call it quits so many times. I talked to my sister a bit recently about it all. She told me I shouldn't be ashamed, blah blah. Rationally I know that. But my family NEVER talked about anything after my mom died. We just quit smiling, quit talking, quit spending time together. I can't convey to anyone just how very lonely it was for me as a 7 year old to grow up without a lot of warmth, happiness or togetherness. My sister said something that made me feel like she really understood now. She said, "you saw a lot of fucked up things when you were little."
I'm sure there are people who think at 35 I shouldn't be having these revelations. Things were so buried but they are finally coming out. It's not easy telling my sister that I tried to kill myself when I was 20. I don't want her to feel upset at learning this stuff. But at the same time, maybe someone in my family should know.
The trials and errors of finding the right combination of medications to deal with my mental health as well as the other conditions have been quite the roller coaster. Friends whom I know in person, and those internet ones I've talked to for years, understand. They've been there for me and now that I feel a lot better mentally, I'm able to really be there for them now. The people online who have been cruel, who haven't been able to forgive me for acting so crazy or just plain weird, can go fuck themselves. I don't care how that sounds because it feels so damn good to say it. I've always tried to be so PC, to always think of the feelings of others, to not create waves, but there is a point where I just don't give a shit anymore. I think some people enjoy holding something over you even after you apologize because it gives them power and control. I think that's sick. It feels good to stand up for myself finally.
All this...shit has been quite a long and exhausting process. And I'm still going through it, but am able to deal with the painful and intense emotions better. If you've read this far and still love me, thank you. I appreciate your friendship and look forward to giving back the love and patience you've shown me.
Tschus.
