I hit a new low tonight

It’s New Year’s Eve. It’s supposed to be one of the best nights of the year. That’s the perceived notion anyways. Every year it leads up to basically nothing. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good New Years. The only time I came close was 2 years ago when I was with my long term boyfriend. We couldn’t find any last minute plans because our original party was cancelled. So instead of getting all dressed up or getting drunk with our friends we stayed in and watched movies with his parents all night in our pajamas. We drank orange juice and vodka and ate a cheese spread. After the ball dropped, his parents went to bed and we thought it would be a fun idea to smoke weed in his garage. We got super high, made a bunch of food, went upstairs and had a bunch of yummy sex. I woke up the happiest person alive.

I’ve gone to a lot of NYE parties and such. But that moment of complete happiest is definitely one of my favorites. I miss him terribly. I wonder how he’s celebrating with his new, prettier, and skinnier girlfriend.

Fast forward two years and I’m sitting home in my room alone, with my grandparents loudly watching their tv programs. I’m sitting in my pjs, alright. I don’t know, I think it’s kind of sad how I don’t feel an urge to go out. But even if I did, I don’t have many options. It’s not like my friends need me to be wherever they are. I’m not that important to them.

I told my bestfriend last night that I genuinely think I’m bipolar. Things wouldn’t be so bad if my lowest lows weren’t always followed by my highest highs, and vice versa. I think tonight I’m definitely hitting a slump. It’s just another reminder that I don’t really have anyone here to make me happy. I hate being alone on days where it’s not socially acceptable to be alone. I think that makes it all much worse. This probably sounds stupid and whiny.

But I’m 18 years old. I shouldn’t be sitting in my pjs watching stupid movies while everyone’s out partying and celebrating this “fabulous” new year. You know what else? It’s scary to think about how many people commit suicide tonight because they just can’t take another year. I don’t know why I thought of that today, but it makes me really sad.


It was definitely a bad day.

I don’t know how I ended up here. Last night I didn’t go to bed until after 6am. I had a final exam to take at 10:30 and it was not pretty. I woke up with a horrible migraine, but still managed to go. I don’t even remember taking the exam. It was one of those migraines where you feel so nauseous, but getting up to go to the toilet is an even worse plan. So instead of taking medication on a completely empty stomach, I tried to go back to sleep. I woke up every half hour and still felt as bad. I felt really awful because I had all these plans to do that absolutely needed to be done but I couldn’t get out of bed. Finally after hours and hours of laying in bed suffering, I asked my roommate for an ice pack for my head. About an hour later I was feeling fine, but that was around 6:30pm. My whole day was practically wasted. All I did was go to the dining hall to eat and do some laundry. I didn’t have enough energy to do anything else. It makes me feel 10 times more anxious when I don’t do anything I was supposed to do. I also knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. Which is completely true.

On a side note, I’ve been listening to classical music to go to bed. I think it’s something about the instrumentals that calm me. There are no words I have to pay attention to. Just soothing background music that distracts me long enough to get tired. I’m not sure how long it will last, but it’s just another thing on my list to scratch off for my therapist. He needs to believe I really am trying.

I have to get up at a reasonable time tomorrow. That’s going to be extremely hard for me. I have to pack all the stuff I was supposed to do this week into tomorrow. That gets my anxiety level up to about a 10 out of 10.

I don’t know, it’s just been a really bad week for me.

Depressions kicking my ass

As a hurting individual like myself, I feel as if one of the most important things during the healing process is for the pain to be acknowledged; not by the person hurting themselves, but by the people around them.

I just want someone to understand how hard this is. I want someone to agree that yes, this indeed fucking sucks. I feel like I’m constantly being dismissed by the people around me. It’s hard to compare pain. Pain is not relative. My mother is making an active choice not to be a part of my life. Your mother is an alcoholic. Who is qualified to determine who gets to hurt more?

When I explain how awful it is not to have my mother, I always get the same response. “Why would you want someone like that in your life anyways?” That’s not the point. Just because she’s a horrible person doesn’t dismiss my natural instinct to want a mother. As shitty as she is, sometimes I think it would be easier if I never moved out and was stuck in that little room in that little town. That was routine. It was what I knew. I knew my mother for what she was and she was never going to change. But at least she had some kind of bearing on my life. Now it’s easier to tell people she’s dead rather than explain that my mother hates me so much, she once tried to kill me. At least I get sympathy that way, and not horrified, confused looks.

I don’t understand how depression works. I don’t think I ever will. It’s like getting in your car with the intent of getting away and realizing there’s no air in any of the tires. It’s being physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted but not being able to go to sleep. I’m trying to tell my brain what I need to do but it’s not listening to me. It’s scary how my body reacts in a way I can’t control, no matter how hard I try.

Sometimes I stay awake at night going over all the things I want to tell my therapist. When I actually get to my appointment, I never have enough courage to say exactly what I want, in the exact tone I want. I always try to sugarcoat it. But I want him to know how badly in suffering right now, and it’s hard to do that when I’m always downplaying everything in my life.

If you can’t spill your guts to a complete stranger, who can you?

The big S.

Sometimes I feel like killing myself. It’s actually probably the only constant in my life. The thing that keeps me going is what it would do to other people. But not just people in general, specifically my grandfather. He’s 83 years old, and I know that if I committed suicide he would go into cardiac arrest. He already has a weak heart and this would put it into overdrive. It would be so unfair if two lives were lost to this cruel world instead of one.

Enabler Enabling Enabled

I can’t sleep, but that’s no huge secret. I think it’s because I’m returning to school tomorrow. I was originally planned to go back when everyone else did, but I had a court date with my mom. Oh by the way, she hired a lawyer and got the date pushed back a month. Like that’s going to do any good. I just want her to help me like any normal mother would do. I have to get a court order for that to happen. I stayed here even though my court date was moved in hopes of finding a cheap lawyer to help me out. Of course it didn’t go the way I wanted it to and I still have no lawyer, even though I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t even want to get one, but I guess it was recommended that I should since she lawyered up. My moms trying to claim that she has no idea where I am or where I’ve been since I moved out in June. My move was only supposed to be temporary, and I ASKED her if I could. I think right now she’s grasping at straws and stalking my Twitter and Facebook. I’ve missed class before, big deal. That doesn’t mean I’m not taking college seriously or something. Whatever defense she’s trying to put together is complete bullshit and even her lawyer probably knows that.

I’m really nervous about finals. It came up so quick I barely noticed. I’m scared because I haven’t been studying. I don’t pay attention. I barely show up anymore. But it’s not because I just don’t feel like it. I physically cannot get out of bed long enough to gain the motivation in order to go or pay attention. I was supposed to do so many productive things while I was on break. I don’t think I did anything other than check my email.

It sucks having no ambition or drive. It’s like I should be using every last bit of myself to gain independence and strength and finally move on into the world. I don’t know if I’m using what’s happened/happening to me as an excuse or if I’m actually being inhibited beyond my control. For the first time in my life I get and want to be selfish, but is that really doing me any favors? I’m enabling myself to become exactly who my mother wants me to be. The hard part is that I know this in its entirety, but can’t seem to make a change for the better. Every step forward takes almost every inch of my wellbeing. It’s quite literally crippling when I get knocked back and I can’t keep taking chances.

This whole thing has taken me through some huge whirlpool. In the past few months I moved out/got kicked out (that’s another story) of my parents house, I moved in with my grandparents, lost my mother completely, moved to a school 4 and a half hours away from stability (and hated it), got stuck with a God awful suite-mate, got kicked off my mothers phone plan and had to get a new one, took my dad to court to get the child support switched over from my mother to me, am in the process of suing my mother for child support, and now trying to figure out the transfer process before next falls due date, all while scrambling for money, support, and help from the people around. It’s been a tough year and it still keeps going.

I know the nasty habits I have are only making my situation worse. I physically can’t make myself do any better. I don’t know what you would call that, but all I know is that it sucks.

I reserve the right to hate my life.

So much has happened in the past week and a half that I don’t know how to process. I need to go one at a time.

First things first, I hate my college. I hate the people and the atmosphere and how large it is. The only person I generally like is my roommate, and we already knew each other from high school. I literally don’t know anyone else, and it gets really lonely when I have so much going on. So I’ve decided that I want to transfer next year. I complain to all of my friends back home how awful it is. They all know what I’m going through right now and can understand that being mostly isolated is just adding to the mess. But most of my friends don’t really understand just how awful my depression is right now. Every time I talk about what’s happening I get tears in my eyes. Every time I mention how little sleep I get or that I can’t concentrate I’m trying to fight back the tears. I’m not one to cry to my friends about this stuff. I make jokes about how awful my life is and move on. That’s usually how I deal with things. People don’t want to talk about sad stuff. Most people don’t casually ask how you’re doing or “how are things with this?” It’s my way of bringing it up without making the topic of discussion too heavy. This time it’s just totally different. I can hardly hold myself together and it’s extremely embarrassing.

My best friend of 11 years finally noticed how hard this is. Let’s call her Anna. She knows me as this strong, independent, funny person that never takes life too seriously. The other night I told her that my grandparents are okay with me transferring and somehow we meandered onto that topic of discussion. I say that I wish my home felt like home. She immediately started attacking me saying that since my grandparents are doing so much for me I should be thankful that I have a bed. But that’s not the point. She called me weak. She has never said that to me before. Anna told me that she’s never seen me like this. I was crying so hard by this point, I couldn’t talk. I tried to explain to her that it’s because things have gotten so bad, I can’t keep up my normal charade.

To sum up my life, I always just say “My life fucking sucks.” I think that pretty much does it. Anna tried to tell me that I should just be thankful to have the help I’ve been receiving. Just because I’m thankful for getting help doesn’t mean I can’t be sad and disappointed still. I’m extremely grateful for everything I have. But that doesn’t mean I can’t want more. I want parents who love me unconditionally. I want a house that I can come back to anytime. I want a family to support my every move. I want a normal life. What I have now doesn’t cancel out all of my wants. I have earned the right to say my life sucks. I have earned the right to wallow in my own self pity. I have earned the right to be sad. I know that someday it’ll get better. But not right now. It’s all way too fresh to even begin to think about coping. Right now I’m just trying to survive.

I guess you could say that I’m just upset because the one person I thought who understood wasn’t on my side anymore. She’s pushing me way too soon. I want someone so stand behind me and say “yeah that really fucking sucks.” Sometimes that just helps. I don’t want advice on how to be happy. I don’t want suggestions to make my life better. I have done more than my fair share of trying to stay positive and change my life for the better. I GET to be sad. I GET to be depressed. I reserve the right to fucking hate my life before I try to stick a smile on my face. It’s my turn to be selfish and I’m taking it. I’m tired of telling everyone things are fine when they’re not.

Thanksgiving break

Today I head back to my hometown for thanksgiving break. I left a little early though, I started getting really homesick. I live with my grandparents, and I really miss them. I took a train back because it’s about 4 and a half hours by car and my poor Gram just can’t do the trip.

I’m kind of nervous to go back though. My grandparents expect a lot from me, and I’m not sure I can measure up to their standards all the time. I have a huge fear of getting yelled at, mostly because I spent a good portion of my childhood on the other end of a tantrum. My grandma told me that we need to have a few conversations. That probably means I’m going to get yelled at about something, and usually it’s about something out of my control.

I did forget my house key back in my dorm though. I did that last time. My grandma was very mad. Now I’m going to have to get it copied somehow.

They’re old. It’s hard for them to understand how and why I do the things I do. I try to ignore it and just agree, but my defensiveness gets in the way most of the time. I feel the need to explain everything to try and make them understand. I think it’s just time for me to accept the fact that I can’t make everyone understand all the time.

They put a lot of pressure on me. It’s kind of bad enough that I deal with everything I already do. It’s hard to squeeze out perfection when all the odds are against you. It’s frustrating and tiresome– and I’m lazy.

My grandparents also don’t really do Thanksgiving dinner. It’s really just the two of them. This will be my first Thanksgiving without somewhat of a celebration, let alone a traditional thanksgiving meal. I know the holidays are going to be hard.

I know I shouldn’t complain because there are starving families and people on the streets. Just because my war isn’t as big as theirs doesn’t mean my battle isn’t a struggle.