What's a Title?

Depression manifests itself in many strange ways.

My room is either pristine, or a Jackson Pollock of last week's socks and t-shirts. That can be said about pretty much everything in my life: my hair, my makeup, my kitchen. That's part of life, right? Why does it have to be?

"Just be happy."
"You've done so much, you're so lucky."
"Think of all the great things you have accomplished!"
"At least you have a healthy relationship and a boyfriend who loves you."
"People love you, remember that."

Yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before. But hearing it again, wow! Cured my depression right up! Thanks!

Fuck off.

Okay, I'm sorry. That was mean. I really do appreciate encouraging words. I know you all mean well. I guess I automatically feel like people scream: "Your depression is not justified because of all of these great things!" Thanks, brain.

I know these things. I'm thankful for these things. So what's the problem? I don't know. I don't know and I hate that I don't know.

What am I saying? I have so many words struggling to get out of my exploding heart. At one point in my life I said I never wanted to take antidepressants because I wanted to feel everything purely. I wanted to know the highs, the lows, the in-between. Now I can barely function before I have that little pink pill in the morning. Even then, more often than not, I am not in control. I guess that's what I'm saying. I've lost control.

See, the thing is, even when I'm in a wonderful relationship, even when I'm pursuing my dreams, even when....whatever. Still then, I sit here, heartbroken. I sit here in pain. I sit here hating myself.

I hate myself.

But I also love myself?


My heart breaks so easily. I feel so deeply. I miss my friends. All of my best friends are so so far away and I miss them so so much. In Tennessee, in Turkey, all over the world. And right now I can't even plan to see my friends in Turkey because of a travel ban! Oh, how my heart hurts. Everything hurts! My body literally aches because of the sadness.

And then suddenly, I'm happy again! I'm full of hope. I'm full of, "well I've gotten this far so what's the next challenge?" I'm singing and smiling and laughing and not caring that I've had three chocolate chip cookies. I feel so excited to see my friends thrive and live their best lives and chase their dreams. I'm full of everything good! Praise!

And I know things can be worse, and then I feel even worse about myself! I get this downward spiral of feeling bad because I feel bad. How pathetic is that? How can I regain control?

I really do hate myself. I'm sorry to say that but I do. I hate how I look most days. I hate how I feel, all this chronic pain. I hate that my body freaked out after my surgery and now I have harsh, flaming stretch marks across my abdomen from how badly I bloated. I hate that my weight is out of my control. I hate that I cry so much. I hate that one day, I'm flying. I'm on cloud nine, I'm so happy, I'm so full of life, and then BOOM! I crash. I'm buried under mounds of rubble. I don't want to live anymore.

There aren't many days in-between. It's either one or the other. If I have a middle ground, it's lethargy. Fun.

So what am I saying? Really, please. I don't even know what I'm saying. Shouldn't I be happy? Shouldn't I love myself? Shouldn't I practice what I preach?

I'm trying!! And like I said, I generally do. I really do love myself. I love that I'm strong and independent and curvy and vivacious and well-traveled and that my eyes change colour but tend to be grey and I think that looks pretty and blah and blah and blah.

This is me? This is who I am?

I don't know the point in this. I don't know what I'm writing. I know somewhere in my mind I had a purpose and an outline and a goal to achieve with this post. I know I have stories to tell and things I wanted to say but I can't see past this cloud of confusion and darkness and horror.

I'm sorry. I guess I'm saying all of these things because, well, because I want to live honestly. I want to show the ugly. (There I am with my hope again.) I guess I want people to know...I'm messy. I'm imperfect. This is who I am. And maybe, someone feels the same way. Maybe I'll find solace in that. Maybe someone else will, too.

Here I am. With all my tears and snot, writing this in my dark apartment while my boyfriend is at work. My head is throbbing and my shirt is soaked with tears. On days like this I told Troy to ask me to tell him three good things/things I'm thankful for at the moment. I'll end with that.

Three Good Things/My Thankfulness
1. I have banana bread baking in the oven.
2. Paramore is a good band.
3. Both Troy and I have jobs in our new city.


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