So I found myself singing at the top of my lungs today. It’s been a while but I’m finally on an upswing, it seems. (I’m cherishing it, not sure how long this will last but let’s enjoy it.)
A collection of my (often suicidal) thoughts.
A collection of my (often suicidal) thoughts.
Hello, void! I find myself musing about my current state of mind and the ups and downs with depression I’ve been having lately. Like, there’s no one trigger, it’s often a series of events that happens too frequently to process individually. And, maybe it’s just me trying to find a pattern in it, or maybe it’s what it is, but each depressive period, set of depressive episodes, whatever they’re called, they have a theme. My last serious bout, the one with all the suicidal thoughts and tendencies, 2014-15, it was non-stop rejection. Rejection from jobs, or a place to live, and ultimately friendship was what buried me deep. I felt unwanted and it just got more and more personal, it’s horrible to feel undeserving of anything. Right now, I’m on the cusp of that, I think. I am fearing rejection, getting fired from my job, losing my apartment. (I’m actually quite good on the friendship side - I’m not seeking approval from strangers anymore, the friends I have are a blessing, and I’ve mostly made peace with being single.) And this fear of rejection is causing horrible anxiety. I can’t work, I can’t think, I can’t shake any of it off. I feel like it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, I worry about being inadequate, not good enough, not meeting commitments, and then I freeze and DON’T get anything done and eventually someone is going to point it out and relieve me of these obligations but it’ll mar my record. Dammit I’ve been here before, it’s how I got kicked out of grad school. Granted, the reasons and circumstances are completely different, and thankfully I know what I need to do to avoid disappointing everyone. (Communication. TALK ABOUUUUUT IIIITTTT.) So, silver lining I suppose. Thanks for listening.
Whoaaaaaa there. I realize I’ve not posted anything in six, seven years, and this is mostly a blog in the void so I just quit doing updates altogether.
So lemme update y’all.
I started this blog as a way to vent, rant to no one in particular, share my grim thoughts without bothering anyone. Because when you’re depressed the last thing you want to hear is some positivity bullshit, meant well by people who love you but fucking useless. (Also, probably some soft core porn, pics of cute guys and whatever.)
It helped for a while but after my last post I hit a rock bottom, going so far as to tying up a noose after a particularly frustrating series of events but thankfully not going through with hanging myself. The noose was tucked away in my closet for a couple of years, should I ever change my mind.
My friends never knew how far down I had gone but they did stick around with me. They gave me space but let me know they wanted me around. It was exactly what I needed - space to be me and have my feelings but the reassurance and kind nudges to bring me out of my own head every now and then. And more importantly, letting me know I was wanted. I’d spent the entire year facing rejection left and right and it broke me. Their acceptance kept me afloat until the end of the year and I decided I’d try harder.
And mind you, I wasn’t not trying hard, but motivation is a bitch when you’re depressed. I started to work against the depression. I kept a journal and posted my resume everywhere. Applied for anything and everything. Let my friends take me out of my mind. Celebrated the little things. Made mini goals and just lived a day at a time. (This is cliche shit, if you’re depressed, for the love of Zeus, seek professional help.)
I eventually got a call for a job - literally December 31st - and started a couple of months later. I’ve been there five years, part of corporate culture but putting my degrees (I have two!) to use. I’ve made new friends along the way. Having a job hasn’t fixed everything but it was a huge step into feeling USEFUL again. I could pay my friends and family back, and I have.
Money doesn’t buy happiness, and has never been a motivator for me. They called me today to let me know I was up for a raise. Wasn’t expecting one. And I don’t need it but I’m not gonna pretend it hasn’t helped. Having money does ease concerns, and I will also not lie and say I haven’t spoiled myself but every spending spree includes donations and gracious giving. Paying back, paying forward. This aside about money to say that in that regard my mind is finally at ease. And I’m doing what I can to help others.
I’m not cured. I am actually beginning to spiral into a new depressive episode right now - thankfully I can recognize it and avoid destructive behavior. Multiple factors and a separate story for that but the point is... for now, I am good. And to anyone in the void who has cared, thank you.
It's been a while. Anyway, I had a strange dream the other day. I guess I worked at Grace Brothers and Mr. Lucas and Captain Peacock were there and I wanted a yellow bowtie and I guess I also bought a Disney castle like the one I used to have. Then Mr. Lucas got fired and left with my bowtie which looked better on him, then again he left in boxer shorts and I'm gay, so.
I was, and still am, sad because my best friend flew back to work today. But now I'm also angry because I realized I wasn't invited to his wedding (civil ceremony but still). It didn't happen, paperwork was missing, but I know I won't be invited to their next attempt either. And now I can't sleep for different reasons.
Removing a facebook friend that wasn't a friend as much of an acquaintance feels great. You may not be boring, or even obnoxious, but if I don't care to read what's going on in your life or your opinion about anything, then you're getting deleted. My true friends can be obnoxious all they want, I actually care what they have to say even if I disagree. But you, random person I met in college five years ago, screw you. We barely spoke in person and we'd have nothing to talk about today. Time for another purge...
I fluctuate between "I'll have a boyfriend one day and he'll be hot and a million times better than my exes and my last crushes", " fuck it, no more men for me, it's OK to be single and that's what's gonna happen and how you'll live for the rest of your life", and "I will be fucking single forever and I hate it, why me, god I wasted my life, I've only been with trash shit."
Often times, the only reason I agree to go out is because I want to try and have a good time, and I know I'll regret it if I don't, but for the most part, I just want to stay home and most of the time I am far from enjoying myself, after trying really hard. It's pathetic, but I can't help myself.
FYI, I'm not actively ignoring you. I'd just rather you speak to me when you feel ready, since you said you were burnt out on talking. And I don't wanna be a nag with some version of "are we there yet?" everyday. Admittedly, I have archived our conversation so it doesn't show up in the list, in an effort just to give you space and not tempt myself. But every now and then I wonder how you're doing and I pull up the conversation to say hi. Then I read the part where you mention how I aggravate you, something I was not unaware of already, so I archive it again. And then I'll get an itch so I find myself writing things and deleting them because I'm afraid you'd be offended or misinterpret it... and it takes a lot of effort to say hi when I'm second guessing myself and it feels like an artificial construction instead of the bursts of wrong words combined that make for my natural, yet aggravating, attempts at a conversation.
Today's been pretty productive... if could get paid for this productivity I'd be happier, but I'm just thrilled that I've been in a good mood all day. To-do lists checked off, emails sent, a more-or-less clean environment (read: bedroom), clothes washed and I even danced like a fool. I live for this and I wish this sense of accomplishment could last forever. We'll see how tomorrow pans out.
Anyone else feel like Bobby from “Tammy”? Because, yeah, that is so totally me.
Up and Down an Emotional Roller Coaster with Spotify
Spotify has been my nemesis and my savior these past two weeks. It began with a few songs from 2001, which was a major mistake because songs triger memories and spring 2001 (Nelly Furtado's "I'm Like a Bird" specifically) was the epitome of my high school angst. Broken heart, dumb arguments, meaningless people. Ironically, Alanis Morissette's "Unplugged", arguably with much more angstier tunes, has actually uplifted my mood over the past week. Pandora, on the other hand, has maintained a neutral player because it just plays songs randomly based on a few input songs. I really wasn't expecting that drawback to Spotify. I honestly thought, well, at least I'm choosing what I listen to, which is great, but it's kinda limited in that sense (I haven't explored further, it might be capable of more). I hate not having access to my full music library.
My feelings for facebook are quite ambiguous. On the one hand, I genuinely like keeping in touch and seeing what my friends are up to. Even the ones who I do not agree with - I don’t know, I don’t really have a problem with people posting stupid stuff. The few that do get blocked or deleted, simple as that. But at the same time, I wonder how much of the life they choose to show is fake… or basically, how much time they spend thinking about what they’re going to share. By principle, I prefer not to whine on facebook, in frustration sometimes, but I make sure it’s not the norm, because that’s not who I am. Besides, we all get tired of the drama queens who only post to complain about the slightest things, all the time. I’m sure others must do that as well. But are we taking that to the extreme? By only posting happy moments, I don’t automatically assume that you never ever struggle, but it sure looks like it. And dammit, does everyone look like they’re having a great time. Everyone gets to travel and everyone has a job and everyone is getting married and starting a family. And here I am, six months out of school, no job interview in sight and a very pathetic life. Single, very, very single, too. And this is why I hate facebook. - it makes me hate the people I love.
Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month (LGBT Pride Month) is celebrated each year in the month of June to honour the 1969 Stonewall riots in Manhattan. This commemorative month recognizes the impact that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals have had on history locally, nationally, and internationally. At Oxford University Press we are marking Gay Pride month by making a selection of engaging and relevant scholarly articles free to read on Oxford Scholarship Online.
Free reading... can't be too uneducated, I suppose...
OMG This looks delicious. Considering I just had slices of pineapple (okm, it was hours ago, but it was a deliciously sweet pineapple and the sensation still lingers on my tongue), it seemed fitting. (Am I tumbling right? I feel like I'm too old for this...)
So I joined tumblr...
Basically, this will be my anonymous repository of thoughts for when I feel sad angry and otherwise unhappy, often dabbling into the reasons I contemplate suicide. I stress - anonymous, you need not know *who* I am, just my thoughts.