*laughs* so, i’ve realized, medication (as in SSRI’s) isn’t to make the sick person better, it’s to protect the rest of the world. Sorry — I just look at life the worst possible manner. I realized that today when I was watching Sea Biscuit, which I recommend to anyone who has ever encountered depression (by having it, or knowing someone who has had it..) imean, it’s just not about a horse. It’s about life. I’d ruin it for you– but i’d much rather pay the four bucks to take you. *shrugs* it’s excellent with the Tobey Maguire– and the foxy-ness of him.
It starts slow, but sit tight, it picks up momentum untill your feet are on the chair in front of you and you’re screaming “GO SEA BISCUIT!! GOOO!” and you’re fairly sure the old people who are sitting around you would be telling you to shut the hell up, if they weren’t on oxegen. *smirks* Really. Go. See it, enjoy– it makes you appreciate life.
Okay– So in response to Red’s diary listing…. I have to admit…. My emotional rollercoaster is mainly… okay IS my fault. I havent’ taken my precious SSRI’s for a damn good amount of time. I wanted to be better. I wanted to say “Hey, I haven’t taken my depression pills, and I feel like i’m on f|_|cking air!” but so much for that. And my self-esteem. For three years of my sad little life, i’ve been in and out of my therapists office, dancing around the idea, pretending, that what i originally came in for, was gone.
Wanna know why I was in there in the first place?
Course ya do! Who wouldn’t? (Okay the entire population of the united states of america doesn’t want to know, good for them.) I went because everyone but me knew that i had a problem. I couldn’t see it, and thought I was okay.
My self-esteem relied on whether i had a guy or not.
I could blame it on J. I could. I could say it was all his fault. admittedly he was my first boyfriend ever, and he took my self-esteem down a notch, or eighteen thousand, either one. *shrugs* I wasn’t “fine” before I met him, but I wasn’t depressed either.
There’s something people don’t understand. I will, and have always had, depression. It’s a chemical imbalance inside of my brain. It’s something that has to be fixed with medication…. However, because of the chemical imbalance, things that wouldn’t make a normal person want to kill themselves for, or diet, or feel worthless for…. makes me go a little off in left field. *nods*
So it’s an existing condition. When I met J, i was on an up. My emotions were fairly normal, I’d go down, but the down periods were never too long. We dated, and the ups and downs got more frequent. I put on weight, i didn’t like to go out, unless it was with him…. he controlled a lot of my life, and not by force either. I’m a naturally submissive person…. *shakes her head* anyway. After J and I broke up– well — the ups of my life got few and far between. I had my longest and deepest bout with depression ever. Ten Months. I wallowed, I hated the sun, i barely ate … and gorged, and starved myself. I shopped, like a mad woman, but it only made myself feel worse, because– I was taking pieces of aluminum to patch up my dented car. Does that make sense? I was doing the little things in my life, to try and fix something big.
I don’t know how, or what it was, but something clicked. I began to feel better. My friend Lucy (what a doll, and completely understanding person.) suggested therapy. I started to go, and then to a support group. All the girls there relied on their status with boys as what defined them. And I kept telling myself “You dont’ have that problem. You feel better about yourself now. You never depended on J to make you feel good.”
I think what hurt the most was hearing from J when we broke up the words “Look, We can still be friends, I just don’t like how serious this has become. But we can still hang out and stuff.” I remember nodding numbly into the phone. It hurt. A lot. But i had faith that he’d still be there for me. I guess it wasn’t the words that hurt so much as the next day. New girlfriend. Holding hands, kissing– like we were nothing. Like I was nothing.
So I took two years off. Didn’t like anyone obsessively…. mostly because I was– err– am obsessive about the people i like. Even platonically. I like people to know how much I love them, and appreciate their friendship. I guess it can be a little overwhelming at first– even at second. Sheesh. So when I let my guard down– and let someone like Monkey in. I said to myself “I’m going to be good. I’m not going to smother or cling or stalk or anything like that. I’m going to be a good girl.” and i focused all of my energy onto that. Being normal. Pretending like I wasn’t broken… Maybe not broken, but different.
And I don’t know why, after two years of being a single, and mostly loving it– why was I doing this now. Why all of the sudden did I unpadlock my heart and throw it at Monkey? I wish I knew why. I could give you a lot of maybes as to why i may have done it– but i know this– i wish I hadn’t. Purely because–
i’m afraid I may have ruined something.
Something so precious to me– that i’m even more scared to loose it than anything. More than my mind, more than all of the emotions I could ever feel…. because i’ve found, over the years, what makes me worth the breath of life God breathed into me, is what i put back out into the world.
That’s why I care what other people think. Because what I am is reflected in them. Sure. I do stuff my own way, I may say “I like to dress like i’m from the early ninties, and if you don’t like it screw you…” But that’s petty stuff. I can’t live life saying “This is all about me.” I’m not that kind of person.
I’m a giver. I give. It’s what i do. and I figure, if people use me and abuse me– that’s not my fault. It’s not my sin, my mistake, and I’m sure as hell not going to pay back in kharma for it. No. I’m a good girl. I do good things.
So when I see someone in pain. I want to help. I want to make it better. I want to listen, and offer what little advice I have. Because even if the little advice makes someone feel a little bit better– i’ve earned the right to live another day.
I know. It sounds– stupid. and extremely hokey. But I type what i feel. I go along with my emotional rollercoaster. I go where the wind takes me, but i dont’ follow someone else’s path without heed. I make choices, I make mistakes– and I live.
Derringer Meryl [trying to be good] Out