|payingattention (payingattention) wrote,|
@ 2008-07-01 21:37:00
I can imagine that my summer might get easier once this biology class is over and done with, so that I can have an actual break as opposed to a pseudo one, one consisting of still fighting ulcers caused by grades.
Today was rough. For the first time in my life, the first time ever, suicide seems like a viable option. I have suddenly become like those people on the anti-depressant commercials: "Hopeless", "sad", "isolated", and so on. My realism keeps me away from hurling myself off a building, but every single day the thought enters my head on at least one occasion. And every time it's like making a pro and con list, and I'm stunned to realize that I'm slowly, almost unconsciously, accepting the idea that suicide might be my only option. I'm forgetting everything I used to say when I was younger--that it's an easy way out, that people who do it don't realize things will get better. I've been so busy struggling with all of this that I've completely lost the ability to hold onto the idea that I will get better. At this point I've been depressed for so long that I can't imagine myself without it. I think about who I was two years ago and it's like remembering an old friend I've lost touch with. It's like I don't even know how to feel that way anymore.
I take baby steps towards getting better, but the first step is to actually admit that I'm not well. I can't connect with that thought, probably because I've lived my life believing that nothing bad ever happens to me. I get sad, but over shallow things that I know will go away; break ups, lost friendships, poor grades, getting yelled at, making a bad decision. This is different because this has no cause...at least, not one that I can figure out. And as long as I don't know what's causing it, I don't know how to fix it. I can't name it. It's like something that floats around my head and nags at me. I've never had to work towards ending depression, its always just gone away whenever I got over my problem. But this is something that's coming from inside me, and I have to actually work to make it stop. It's like being in an AA program. I wake up every morning and go through the motions of being sad. It comes up out of nowhere and settles in on me. Sometimes I don't even realize it's there, and other times it's so intense that I feel like I can't move. I don't want to do anything. I want to go home from where I am and I want to lay in bed and sleep away the day. I never want to wake up, because waking up means having to feel sad all over again.
In an attempt to overcome this, I'm creating a program for myself. I will journal as often as possible--I'd like to shoot for a daily thing, but I know myself well enough to know that might not happen. It's funny how so many different journaling websites have so much emotional baggage for me; Deadjournal is too ninth grade, Livejournal is connected to all of my friends, and Greatestjournal is something I've only used in terms of Kim since we broke up. So Insanejournal will be my private area, the place where I begin to connect to my past and accept it as a part of who I am now, instead of a memory of a completely different person who just so happened to have the same genetics, name, and birthday that I have. I'll use this space to chronicle exactly how I feel as I feel it. I won't censor myself. And I'll examine what I say after I've written it as a way to start connecting to where this all comes from. I feel a little bit better thinking about that.
The other day, while driving, I realized that every time I've gotten depressed I've found something to pull myself out of it. There's a weird sort of excitement in the prospect of finding something to make me feel better. I'm afraid of the cost, though. What am I going to have to leave behind? The only thing I can think of is Amy, and do I want to lose her? Is that a good idea?
I have decided to take deep breaths, one day at a time, and put that idea off until I decide it's the right time, if I ever decide it's the right time. This summer is happening for a reason. My grandmother died this summer for a reason. I'm crashing for a reason, and I will come out of this a better, stronger, and more spiritual person.
I think the first step is connecting with myself. That's where I'm going to start.