It’s been forever since I’ve written and for that I apologize. School has clogged my life to the point of exhaustion. When I have free time, I spend it doing absolutely nothing because I have no energy to do anything else. But I’m back! And boy, is there a lot to say! First off, let me begin by saying how sick I am of everyone asking about my scars. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” It’s ridiculous! I sort of shrug it off and try to avoid the question but they’re always persistent little buggers and ask again! Without an option, I’m forced to tell them the truth and watch as their face goes from one of mild curiosity to utter astonishment and slight disgust. It’s mortifying. But I never know how to answer the question. Maybe I’ll just wear long sleeves for the rest of my life. That would solve all my problems. It’s so frustrating though! Part of me wonders if they just want to confirm their suspicions by asking me because it’s kind of obvious what my scars are from. Are people really that cruel though that they would make me say aloud my embarrassing secret? Yea, they are. Second thing I need to cover is this horrible anxiety that accompanies social situations. The other day I managed to hang out with Casey at the movies. It was a little awkward, a little sheepish but for the most part, it was fun. And today, I talked at length with this girl named Anna in my Clinical Medical Assisting class about the certification exam. She was really easy going and it definitely calmed my nerves. But usually, I feel like I’m going to throw up, pass out or throw up and then pass out. Even when I speak in group, I feel like I can’t handle it. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I think it’s because before, I had Mara to back me up (I know, her name pops up everywhere. I sincerely apologize!), I had someone to lean on so it wasn’t as terrifying if I made a fool of myself. She was there to do the exact same thing. But now, I’m all alone so if I embarrass myself, I’m on my own. And I’m absolutely petrified that I’ll embarrass myself. So I avoid, I duck and dodge, I bob and weave, I do anything and everything within my power to avoid social situations. I’ve become a hermit, really. Oh my God, I literally just text Ty to see if she wants to hang out because reading what I just wrote about my nonexistent social life made me feel so pathetic. But then, that panicky, nauseous, I’m-going-to-faint feeling rises within me and I cancel plans. I don’t know what to do. I’m so pathetic. I definitely need to do my homework in that self-esteem workbook Allister had me buy. That’s another thing I want to talk about. I’m doing all this work on self-esteem and building my feeling of self-worth and I think it’s actually working. But for me, that’s terrifying. I’ve never thought highly of myself and I’m not saying that all of a sudden I will but if I start caring about myself, that’s going to change the scope of my depression for good. Depression is all I’ve ever known. Following the train of thought here? This isn’t just rocking the boat, it’s flipping it over and not throwing me a life line in shark-infested waters! I have no idea which way is up or what to do! I’m absolutely terrified. Even talking about it makes me freeze. My heart practically stops. And suddenly I don’t feel like writing anymore. Goodnight.
For some reason, I like to write early in the morning. Or would it be considered late at night? It’s 3:06 AM on Tuesday, February 12, 2013. I have class today at 2:10 in the afternoon. About 11 hours from now, actually. I took a Melatonin last night because I knew sleeping would be difficult but obviously it isn’t working. I slept literally all afternoon yesterday. I woke up at noon, got up for an hour, then went back to sleep until 3:00. It was ridiculous. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I laid in bed the rest of the day. My mom had me call Dr. Ordella but I don’t know what that’s going to do since we basically abandoned our doctor/patient relationship last time we had a visit. I highly doubt she’s going to be of any help. And I don’t see Allister until Wednesday. I’m at a loss. I do everything I’m supposed to do. I do Opposite Action (except for yesterday, yesterday I didn’t do squat!), I practice resistance when it comes to cutting, I attend therapy and group every single week, I visit with my psychiatrist once a month, I take my medicine every day and what? What happens? I’m still miserable. I don’t understand. And I’ve recently learned that this whole ‘chemical imbalance in the brain’ thing might not even be true. Some scientists believe it was gimmick made up by the drug companies to make people take medication. That’s really promising, right? That’s really reassuring that the one thing that I actually took solace in, the one thing that actually convinced me this was an actual disease might not even be true. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this knowledge. Ruin other people’s lives? Shatter other people’s hopes for treatment? Deja vu! Whoa! I’m listening to “You’ll Be In My Heart” by Phil Collins. It’s on my Anti-Happiness playlist on YouTube. I’m depressed, okay? This song always reminds me of my dad. I’m so scared I’m going to lose him and this song perfectly captures that feeling. Okay, anyway, back to the issue, I don’t know what to do about this depression. And no one else seems to know either. I almost feel crazy. I feel like I’m in gym class, climbing that rope where you have to ring the cow bell at the top. Well, I’m at the top, ringing that stupid bell and no one’s around to hear. And no one’s around to tell me how to get down. I’m stuck up here, alone, screaming for help. I have no idea what to do. And I’m sick of feeling that way too. I’m sick of feeling like there’s no hope for me. I’m sick of feeling out of control. I feel like there’s no hope for me. I need control in my life. I need to be able to handle some portion of my life somehow. But how? I don’t know. I’m lost. And I don’t know how to find my way back. I’m getting sleepy.