Sad

I know my blog is filled with negativity, and for that I apologize. These days, I actually am happy a lot of the time. But the motivation to write a new post often comes from feeling so miserable that I desperately seek some form of connection with other humans. So here I am.

I don’t know what it is. I haven’t been waking up (i. e. taking my meds) at the same time everyday, so maybe it’s that. I found out today that I might not be able to take a course I want to take next year. My sister went to the ER with suicidal thoughts last week. I have almost fully cut two close friends out of my life, so I am lonely af.

I probably feel so shitty because all these factors have culminated in a perfect storm of loneliness and misery. I have two peripheral friends that I am trying to get closer to, and I don’t really talk to anybody else. For a while, I was inexplicably okay with this, but I’m starting to feel so alone. And I feel the worst when I’m already miserable, because I just want to curl up in someone’s arms and have them cuddle me and make me feel better. I have called my ex as recently as last week, even though she never ever responds and I do not want that relationship back in any form. I just need someone. Anyone. I’m trying to be strong on my own but I am getting so tired.

Toronto Pride is this weekend, so I might meet new people. But I think I probably won’t. And I’m perceiving a pattern where people get to know me, realize how annoying I am, then leave. I can’t tell if it’s real, because it sounds like a classic social anxiety distortion, but the evidence is fairly convincing.

Sorry. I don’t even have the energy to write. I am just done. In a figurative sense. (I’m not in danger of harming blah blah blah)

Sarah

Grumpy

You know the stereotypes you always hear about women on their periods?

I am that stereotype. She is me. We are one.

I actually had an amazing day. Things have been going really well for me lately.  Well, except for the episode of Game of Thrones playing out in my underwear and the godawful cramps. But aside from that, I was happy as a clam with my hot water bottle and my chocolate bar.

And then one stupid thing happened and I’m complaining to everybody at once because I want validation for my anger. Now.

I got high with a guy friend the other night, and at one point he said something about me being a tease. It made me really uncomfortable, but I didn’t say much. I texted him today, hoping I would mention my discomfort and he would explain that he was kidding or whatever. But he was weird and gross and like “Ok. Not going to happen. I get it.” I HAVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT BEING A LESBIAN ON THE DAILY SINCE I MET YOU. DID THAT NOT HELP YOU GET IT? Anyways, so now I get to toss this good friendship in the garbage because I don’t feel comfortable hanging out if he’s thinking of me in that way. And this is the second time this has happened this year. I’ve started telling boys I’m gay as soon as I meet them, but apparently, even that’s not enough.

Despite all my male friendships going to shit for this reason, there are ZERO women revealing their romantic feelings towards me.

Ugh.

Sarah

Let’s Talk about Death

Last night, I was in a really strange mood. After listening to hours of Kimya Dawson songs, I started feeling abnormally peaceful. I’m not a person who feels peaceful unless something is horribly, horribly wrong. So that was weird.

When the peace began to subside, I started desperately trying to figure out how to bring it back. I didn’t need it back right away, I just needed to know how to access it again. I wrote the following note in my phone:

peace

Kimya Dawson
Everything has made me who I am?
One with the universe?
Song writing?

It looks like a mason jar and a Lululemon bag (the ones with the “inspirational” quotes) made a love child, and it was this note. Essentially, these were my ideas of what had caused that peaceful feeling.

I just listened to a couple Kimya Dawson songs again. And I might have figured out what it was about her songs that made me feel so calm.

She talks about death.

She sings about the death of her friends, the death of her loved ones, and alludes to her own eventual end.

I think about death all the time. ALL. THE. TIME. And not in a suicidal way. Okay, sometimes in a suicidal way. But mostly in a “We’re all going to die one day, so what’s the point?” way. It makes me feel depressed. Which sometimes makes me feel suicidal. And terrified to die. Simultaneously.  It’s all an exciting whirlwind of death and sadness. That would be a great title for my future memoir. Anyways…

I think I’ve been depressed since I was 13, but my depression became severe just after I left Christianity. I knew what happened when we died; I knew what my purpose was; I knew why the world existed. And then I didn’t. I watched a bunch of documentaries on the origin of the universe, looking to Stephen Hawking to tell me why I existed. But it turns out, that’s not really that guy’s job.

The point is, I’ve spent a lot of time since then contemplating death. And life. And the meaning behind all of it. And the lack of meaning. But I think about it in my head, because otherwise I bum people out.

As a society, we’ve decided that even though death is the one thing we all have in common, we are not going to talk about it. I will die. You will die. Everyone we love will die, and we’re supposed to go on working out and studying and paying bills like that isn’t true. And when somebody we know does die, it’s impossible to comprehend. It fucks us right up, because people don’t die. People are here and we know them, and they can’t just not be here anymore. What the hell?

So I guess there was something relieving in hearing someone sing about death. It made me feel like it’s okay that everybody is going to die. That sounds morbid, but I mean it feels okay that everything is temporary. We can spend the time we have connecting with others and feeling inspired and talking about how fucking weird it is that one day, we won’t exist. And when that day comes, the world will go on. Unless you die in some sort of Armageddon-style end-of-the-world situation, in which case it won’t. But the matter and the anti-matter will do whatever it did when… okay I didn’t pay enough attention when I watched those documentaries. I digress.

The point of this post is that, as it turns out, talking about death brings me incredible peace. And I think that as a species, we should do it more. I’m so fucking weird.

Sarah

Recovery from Social Anxiety Disorder

Today was my last session with a counselor I’ve seen for over a year and a half. So that’s a bummer. But it was actually a really good session, and it helped me focus my goals as I continue my mental health treatment.

I have been aware for a while, albeit to varying degrees, that social anxiety is among my most pressing mental health concerns. I was only diagnosed with SAD around a year ago. Until that point, I attributed my social avoidance to not liking people. And the times I knew I was anxious, I assumed my Generalized Anxiety was to blame. But when I was finally diagnosed with social anxiety , it shed some light on my struggles, and on what I can do to overcome them.

I believe that my Social Anxiety Disorder is currently contributing to around 85% of my mental health problems. And I have many diagnoses among which I must distribute these 100 percentage points. So that says a lot. But my social anxiety causes me to isolate, which makes me incredibly depressed, and which can make it difficult to succeed in my life. It is also difficult for me to find employment, as customer service roles are currently out of the question, and the thought of ANY job greatly heightens my anxiety. But I think that SAD’s contribution to my depression is the most damaging.

The thought of conquering my social anxiety fears makes me want to retreat into a hole forever. It feels so impossible to face these situations over and over until they no longer scare me.

But there was a time when recovery from an eating disorder felt impossible. An age when I could not imagine ever loving my body at a healthy weight. And I accomplished both of those things. I took risks that terrified me and that felt horribly wrong, with the hope that I would eventually find something resembling happiness. So I need to do that again.

I am completely terrified, and I don’t remotely have the support I did when recovering from my eating disorder. But I need my life to be different, so I need to do the work. Here goes nothing.

Sarah

Today is not a good day

TW: depression, suicidal thoughts

Maybe it’s all the Ativan I’ve been having lately, or maybe the stress of exams is wearing me down, but I just can’t do it today.

I’m alone in the world, and it’s the worst feeling there is. I keep texting my ex in a desperate attempt to have somebody, but she never responds. My roommate is being dramatic while her boyfriend coddles her as usual. Nobody else knows me well enough to care.

I am in so much pain and nobody is around to help or even recognize it. I kind of want to die, but I won’t because I have a cat and a sister and possibly a cool future career. But I desperately need someone.

Sarah

Feeling Really Low

TW: DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m tapering my Effexor. Maybe it’s because my roommate has been in the hospital for over a month and I’m living alone. But I am really not about my life right now.

I don’t want to die. I have future goals, and I want to do something meaningful before I shuffle off this mortal coil. (Why is depressed Sarah so fucking unbearable?) But I have few attachments to my current life.

Basically, if reincarnation was real, and I could take my sister and my cat with me, I’d be out of here.

I am growing increasingly resentful towards my roommate (despite the fact that it’s mostly unwarranted), and I am realizing I don’t really have anybody else. I have other friends, but nobody who would notice if I just stopped existing. My family would notice, but they’re more of a source of pain than they are a comfort. My sister is the exception, but she’s my baby sister, so I can’t bring myself to lean on her for support.

I keep packing a bag for the hospital, but I can’t bring myself to leave my cat and surrender control over my environment. I know that’s a much better option than dying, but my anxiety about death will probably keep me alive until this passes, if it ever does. So I take my chances at home.

Jenn used to care about me. I have reached out to her, despite the fact that she abandoned me in a horribly cruel way. I don’t have any better options. But she has ignored me too, so that’s cool.

I don’t know what the point of this is, but I hope you enjoy it. Hurray.

Sarah

Not a Real Post

TW: DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

As the title suggests, this isn’t a real post. This is me, lying in bed, feeling desperately alone and wanting to reach into the internet and pull out human connection. I’ve been incredibly depressed lately, and it only gets worse by the day. There’s no hope that a new pill or exercise regimen will make this go away, because my life is the problem. I have nobody and that makes me feel horribly alone and extremely anxious. I don’t want to live this life anymore. I miss last year, when I had somebody and I was happy. I am so far from happy. There are so many things I want to accomplish in my life, but I don’t want to continue living like this until I’m in a position where I can do that. Please don’t worry; I’m too terrified of death and worried about my cat to do anything. All I’m doing is wishing.

Sarah