10.4

True Story: Years ago a boy I was so in love with had done me wrong (not the first time). And the next day, I planned to go out and party with the sole intention of getting over him and my broken heart. My thoughts that entire night was on him. However, I got a call saying a family member of mine had been shot. A family member who always wanted to spend time with me. But I had no time because I was so infatuated with this boy. I can't begin to imagine the pain he was going through that night while I was worried about bullshit. I learned from that night, that while you chase people that don't or shouldn't matter, those that do could be dying.


- Everyday we lose time. Make sure you spend your time with those that deserve it so you never have to look back with regrets.

No Hello, Petty Me

" I hate that bitch!"
" Oh grow up, stop being petty and just say hi," My dad growled pushing me into the apartment.
" Hey you two!" he spoke to my father and I. I loved him. I wanted him happy. But what about my happiness? I wasn't happy. Was it at the cost of his? I hugged him as his eyes glanced over to his wife begging me to speak first. I hated being phony. I hated that he expected me to be phony. Doesn't he value my honest feelings over keeping the peace with fabricated feelings and hellos? I would never deny his feelings, Id embrace them, confront them, and make things right the best I could. " If you cared about his happiness, you'd just shut up and be polite," I thought to my myself. " But he if cared about my happiness he wouldn't ask me to suppress my negative  thoughts and feelings that were bottling up. Care about his happiness? How could he be happy when I am not?
"Hello," I mumbled.

sluggish

At work sluggish because the pills; Klonopin and Ativan that decided not to work last night have suddenly both kicked in. This is the wrong time to be tired.I am a walking zombie at work, I don't know what was asked of me so I cant get my tasks done. I lack the energy to confirm my tasks or probably even be able to do them. I am high. But I like it. Nothing bothers me, because I am not totally present right now. I could get written up today and  I wouldn't have a panic attack. I might just smile. No seriously. I am really high right now. hahaha

Pills & sleep

1:00

Klonopin 

2:00

Take another 

3:00

Let's try the Ativan 

5:00

I still can't sleep.

Depression sucks.

Lie

Lie and tell me you miss me.

Because ignorance is bliss.

Lie and tell me you love me.

Say anything just to get me by.

LIE.

Just don't f*ck up this high.

Depression Hurts

You probably think of an "emotional" or a "mental" pain when you think of depression. But it physically hurts. Depression hurts like hell. " I'm sick, " I cried. " Like really really sick. I need help." My heart was racing, my body felt light and my throat was closing up.

" What's wrong? Do you want to go to the hospital?" You know when you have a really bad headache and your senses are heightened? Thats what depression is. The light hurts your eyes. Noise is magnified. Everything hurts & nothing is right. For that whole week, I was bedridden with a loss of appetite and energy. My mother was worried about me. Thats what hurt the most. But I couldn't ease her pain.

 " I don't think I'm going to be okay."

As encouraging advice they say, " Theres always a rainbow after the rain." When will it stop raining? Its been raining for years but only above my head. Everyone around me, walks around happily and blind to life's or even just my suffering. Its blatant. How can they not notice that  I am uncomfortable in my own skin. A few stopped to tell me " to smile" but they don't stop and try to attempt to give me a reason to. But these are strangers, I needed him to help me. My loved one. The one whom I need most. The one whose opinion and love I need most and maybe only. He watches me hurt. Why wont he protect me? Shield me? I use to think I deserved the rain, I'd talk long walks in it in my misery. No umbrella, fully drenched, alone, and thoughts racing. But the misery is getting to me. I need to be rescued. They say its all in my head as if I chose to be sad and can turn it off like a light switch. But I don't choose to be sad, sadness as chosen me, taking over me.I don't want to feel this way. I am calling out for help. I am slowly withering away. When I die, I wonder if he will realize he could have saved me?

I Don't Believe In Karma

I don't believe in Karma.
I get that people deliver their own " Karma." I mean, if you are mean to someone, they may be mean to you. However, I'm not sold on the idea that the universe delivers karma. People who cut corners succeed every day. And those who work hard and love hard struggle both financially and emotionally. I believe one should teach their child to treat others how they would like to be treated but not with the expectation that the person will in return. People should be good by default. I can't believe in karma anyhow, I've been a better friend, than anyone has ever been to me. I'm trustworthy but not trusting. I know everyone's secrets and yet must be the sole keeper of my own. I've been a good person; genuine, giving and empathic. If I believed in karma then they are years late on my reward. They also say, the good die young, karma nor death has yet to reach my beautiful soul.

I think silence would really explain my mood.

Pink Dress Thought

My favorite quote has always been one by Eleanor Roosevelt that goes, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Although I did care too much about what others thought of me, I was my own worst enemy. I  always doubted and limited myself. It was my thoughts that got the best of me. And my thoughts were almost always negative. And these thoughts just constantly play on repeat through my conscious mind all day long. I always wish that I had the power to control my thoughts. Sometimes I shake my head as if the negative thoughts will just fall out. I force myself to think of something positive, but I fail and the negative thought takes over. Nothing is worse than being in class and having to pretend to use the bathroom so no one can see you are crying. And then your left to remember why you started crying in the first place. Here is my thought process.

1. I can't concentrate in class because I begin to think about my plans for next week. What will I wear? Who is driving? Who else is invited? Who will be there? Will I look nice?
2. Then I remember I have nothing to wear ( although I own a lot of clothes) and that I really want to look stunning. My heart race begins to speed up and I get fidgety. The teacher is still teaching, but I am having my own crisis at my desk and cannot comprehend what he is talking about?
3. I wonder if anyone else can see that I am freaking out? I look around, but they are either writing or staring at the teacher with understanding.
4. I realize that I need to calm down and I try to picture myself a week from now at this party laughing with my friends. I had seen a pretty pink dress at BCBG that I could buy. I picture myself in my pink dress dancing and concurring with every song the dj has selected.
5. But then in that same thought, another girl walks in with that exact same dress. Oh No! The dress was still in the store window at the mall, who knows how many other people, have walked by, loved it and purchased it. Certainly, there was a big possibility that someone else will be wearing that dress next week.
6. Then I think how I can never do anything right, not even plan for a simple event in advance. I will probably find something basic if anything to wear and will not stand out like always. I will look boring. I am boring. I wish I was a "badd bitch" ( derogatory term, I know) Then a tear falls down my face and I realize its time to go to the bathroom.

Intro
When I tell someone I have depression they often look puzzled and then ask, " Why?" And then they tend to remind me that I haven't had a hard life. As if depression is a disorder reserved for people who have been beaten, starved, raped or experienced a tragic tragedy that is news worthy.

Then there are the people who like to tell me that, " Its all in my head." Maybe so,  from a biological perspective, that is. Its quite possible that I have a chemical imbalance that would explain the antidepressants I am prescribed to help regulate the neurotransmitters in my brain.

I am just sad. Consistently sad. And I don't always know why.

"Why are you crying?"They wonder as if I need a reason to be. No one ever asks, " Why do you hold your head slightly titled?" Its just an involuntary movement. Like my sadness. I am just sad by default.