It all started almost three weeks ago when I was actually pretty happy about how things turned out. Sure there were some problems but nothing that you couldn’t surpress thinking about. But then something happened and chaos started all over. I think I’ve been suffering from depression since I was forteen years old and surely sometimes in the last ten years I had a feeling of not being able to continue. I did anyway.
See, the thing with depression is – as I’ve been reading on one of my favorite blogs on the interenet – you don’t necessarily want to kill yourself. You just want to be left alone, for time and the world and everyone else to forget about you so that you can kinda just…stay where you are not doing anything. So you’ll be able to fade away. Stop existing.
I’ve been at this point more times in my life than I can count and I guarantee you: I can count pretty high. It tires me and wears me out. Today is one of these days – hence the blog. I never went to see a doctor to get my depression confirmed so there might be a slim chance I’m just a drama queen who is sleepy all the time, has super low self esteem, feels the need to cry every so often without good reason and makes a big fuss out of everything while being extremely lazy and not feeling real happiness like…ever. Would be a lot of coincidences, am I right?
This time though, I’m really considering seeing someone. A diagnose should help me focus on finally getting better and most of all being okay with not feeling okay or productive for a period of time. I want to know it’s not my fault. I want to be proud of what I accomplished regardless of being mentally ill. I want to be able to say: I’ve made it this far and look where I am now.
What bothers me the most though is how people treat you differently knowing that something’s wrong with you. Not everytime when I want to be alone, I want to hurt myself – I actually haven’t done that in years. And I mean like…9 or so. Most of the time I feel more comfortable being on my own and need to calm down, think, order my thoughts and push myself to get some strengh. But my sister freaks out everytime… She also doesn’t know how to ‘handle me’ anymore but she feels like she can’t help me (apparently because the only one who can really help me is either myself or a shrink) so she’d rather not try and live life regardless of my needs and feelings. But that’s another topic right there. One that really hurt to be honest. But I’ll get to that sooner or later.
Okay, so this is my first post. I hope to be able to upload every week. Just my thoughts, if i did something important… Just to have something to get back to once in a while. If you experience similar things, feel free to contact. I am sure only somebody who actually lived through mental illnesses understands what it actually feels like. If you want to know who I am, please read About.
Also I kinda like the picture so i might just leave it here.
Have a good day and take care.
– signed A