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I won’t lie to you, whoever you are: This is something of a depression journal, but I’ll also write about some of my coping methods. The things that come here may come from my makeshift “journal,” things that just pour out occasionally and need to be written down so that I can analyze them.
It exists because I’m not in the best state of mind. I’m not stable. If I seem outwardly calm, it’s because I’m exhausted and confused and just ready to be done with at least some of it.
While, over the years, some of my problems have lessened…others have become worse or just begun to rear their ugly heads again and refuse to back down.
Like my social anxiety disorder, for example:
Outside of concerts, furry conventions, and other events that I badly want to be at, I can’t stand being around people. I don’t like strangers. Whenever possible, I use some form of self-service. I will drive until I find a gas station that will allow me to pay at the pump; I will, unless I need something so incredibly badly that it cannot wait, leave a store with self-checkout if the machines are down for any reason; I don’t go into fast food restaurants, only through the drive-thru so that I don’t have to really deal with the people inside.
My actual depression was somewhat under control for a while there, but it’s gotten far worse. Part of that is because I should be on medication, but I haven’t had insurance for some time. I can’t go to therapy. I can’t afford my medication anymore.
Another part…is simply my overall situation. I’m one of those people that can just use a change of environment for a while and everything starts to change, usually for the better.
Happiness is a short-lived and confusing emotion for me. I feel it when I get something new in the mail. I feel it when I welcome (a) new animal(s) into my life. I feel it when I get a gift. I feel it when I’m surrounded by music so loud that I can feel it in my chest like a brand new heartbeat. I feel it when I’m hugging a perfect stranger, while in a different city, while both of us are otherwise hidden inside of our characters and this fandom where hugging and cuddling strangers is perfectly acceptable.
I don’t feel it in my own “home” unless I have a rabbit or a cat or even a crazy dog in my arms.
My mother makes me miserable, but I’m stuck with her until I find some legal miracle income or a full-time job that involves me not working directly with humans (whether face-to-face or on the phone).
One of the people that cares for me—one of my best friends’ mothers—does so in such a strange way that it’s difficult to see the love. It’s worse lately because she seems to be in a downward spiral herself.
Her daughter lives across the country; I’m lucky if I get to see her once a year. She lives in the one place where I am truly comfortable, even without someone to cling to.
Here at home, I just have my “Aunt,” who’s doing any and everything in her power to help me find that miracle income, get insurance, get therapy, get back on my meds, get me out of my mother’s house…get me stable. She’s the only one that really gets it…
It exists because I’m not in the best state of mind. I’m not stable. If I seem outwardly calm, it’s because I’m exhausted and confused and just ready to be done with at least some of it.
While, over the years, some of my problems have lessened…others have become worse or just begun to rear their ugly heads again and refuse to back down.
Like my social anxiety disorder, for example:
Outside of concerts, furry conventions, and other events that I badly want to be at, I can’t stand being around people. I don’t like strangers. Whenever possible, I use some form of self-service. I will drive until I find a gas station that will allow me to pay at the pump; I will, unless I need something so incredibly badly that it cannot wait, leave a store with self-checkout if the machines are down for any reason; I don’t go into fast food restaurants, only through the drive-thru so that I don’t have to really deal with the people inside.
My actual depression was somewhat under control for a while there, but it’s gotten far worse. Part of that is because I should be on medication, but I haven’t had insurance for some time. I can’t go to therapy. I can’t afford my medication anymore.
Another part…is simply my overall situation. I’m one of those people that can just use a change of environment for a while and everything starts to change, usually for the better.
Happiness is a short-lived and confusing emotion for me. I feel it when I get something new in the mail. I feel it when I welcome (a) new animal(s) into my life. I feel it when I get a gift. I feel it when I’m surrounded by music so loud that I can feel it in my chest like a brand new heartbeat. I feel it when I’m hugging a perfect stranger, while in a different city, while both of us are otherwise hidden inside of our characters and this fandom where hugging and cuddling strangers is perfectly acceptable.
I don’t feel it in my own “home” unless I have a rabbit or a cat or even a crazy dog in my arms.
My mother makes me miserable, but I’m stuck with her until I find some legal miracle income or a full-time job that involves me not working directly with humans (whether face-to-face or on the phone).
One of the people that cares for me—one of my best friends’ mothers—does so in such a strange way that it’s difficult to see the love. It’s worse lately because she seems to be in a downward spiral herself.
Her daughter lives across the country; I’m lucky if I get to see her once a year. She lives in the one place where I am truly comfortable, even without someone to cling to.
Here at home, I just have my “Aunt,” who’s doing any and everything in her power to help me find that miracle income, get insurance, get therapy, get back on my meds, get me out of my mother’s house…get me stable. She’s the only one that really gets it…
