Shit sucks.
Apr. 7th, 2012 01:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
glamjamDepression fucking sucks.
Like, HOLY WHOA SHIT IT SUCKS.
Although there are a lot of similarities that show up when a bunch of depressed people talk about their depression, it also affects people really differently. I'm not sure why it came to mind, but on a blog I follow, the author talks about their depression in a such a way as to sound like an authority on the subject, which always ends up rubbing me the wrong way. Intellectually, I know that this person was only talking about their own experiences, but emotionally, it felt like they were saying that...I don't know, THIS IS THE WAY BEING DEPRESSED IS. And the way this mental illness affectz them was *not* the same way it affects me. And sometimes it really does feel like Mental Illness (TM).
I've been having a really down week. Just ask Ryan. He gets to deal with my emo bullshit day in and day out. Sometimes I think it's fair, since when he gets depressed he just shuts down and won't talk until he feels better (even if that's days and days), but then again it's not something that's tit for tat. I generally stay up until 1 or 2 am and if I'm having a bad day, as I have been, I'll start getting seriously emo and overthink-y. Sometimes it's a really good thing that he's busy at work during this time and can't hold a steady conversation - I could have said some seriously stupid shit if given the chance. (like "You should go find a more stable girlfriend who isn't broken in the head" or "I feel like I only get your full attention when I'm freaking out" or "I know you're going to break up with me because I'm so fucking depressed" or "Why aren't you psychic and know exactly what to say/do?")
It feels like I'm starting to come out of this particular funk, which is why I'm actually able to write all this stuff out. Otherwise, doing so would only make me cry...which is basically how I've gone to sleep most nights this week.
I hate my depression. I don't like how it makes me feel, but I dislike even more how I react to how it makes me feel - I hate being so irrational and feeling so alone and thinking that no one cares about me. Especially when I'm depressed, I don't think I'm deserving of love, which makes everything harder to deal with.
* * * * *
On a completely different note, I finally put my bulletin board back together. It's basically full of important bits and bobs that I like being able to look at.
COME ON A TOUR!
Starting from the lower left:
- bouquet from the bouquet toss at a friend's wedding
- newspaper photo from the early 80's during the push for the Equal Rights Amendment
- a Star Trek-related postcard from Jill
- a card from Jill ♥
- a postcard of two girls at a jukebox
- a postcard of a woman swimming that says "Remember to Breath"
- a postcard that says "Be Honest"
- a postcard of women in polynesian dress
- Jill & Cally's addresses
- a full-page photo from an Iranian film set
- foil stars from my much-loved middle school art teacher
- a postcard that says "Love What You Do"
- copy-stamp cat on a post-it note from my old co-worker August
- a years-old horiscope told in bumper stickers
- the photostrip I got with Ryan in February
- a postcard of Frida Kahlo's first self-portrait
- concert tickets from David Bowie and Garbage
- an image from an event flier
- a postcard with a tattooed woman
- a postcard of Judith holding the head of Holofernes
- a dried rose someone gave me on the street from a bouquet he took to his mother's funeral
- Make Art Not War ♥
- and a copy of the front of a card I sent Jill
Like, HOLY WHOA SHIT IT SUCKS.
Although there are a lot of similarities that show up when a bunch of depressed people talk about their depression, it also affects people really differently. I'm not sure why it came to mind, but on a blog I follow, the author talks about their depression in a such a way as to sound like an authority on the subject, which always ends up rubbing me the wrong way. Intellectually, I know that this person was only talking about their own experiences, but emotionally, it felt like they were saying that...I don't know, THIS IS THE WAY BEING DEPRESSED IS. And the way this mental illness affectz them was *not* the same way it affects me. And sometimes it really does feel like Mental Illness (TM).
I've been having a really down week. Just ask Ryan. He gets to deal with my emo bullshit day in and day out. Sometimes I think it's fair, since when he gets depressed he just shuts down and won't talk until he feels better (even if that's days and days), but then again it's not something that's tit for tat. I generally stay up until 1 or 2 am and if I'm having a bad day, as I have been, I'll start getting seriously emo and overthink-y. Sometimes it's a really good thing that he's busy at work during this time and can't hold a steady conversation - I could have said some seriously stupid shit if given the chance. (like "You should go find a more stable girlfriend who isn't broken in the head" or "I feel like I only get your full attention when I'm freaking out" or "I know you're going to break up with me because I'm so fucking depressed" or "Why aren't you psychic and know exactly what to say/do?")
It feels like I'm starting to come out of this particular funk, which is why I'm actually able to write all this stuff out. Otherwise, doing so would only make me cry...which is basically how I've gone to sleep most nights this week.
I hate my depression. I don't like how it makes me feel, but I dislike even more how I react to how it makes me feel - I hate being so irrational and feeling so alone and thinking that no one cares about me. Especially when I'm depressed, I don't think I'm deserving of love, which makes everything harder to deal with.
* * * * *
On a completely different note, I finally put my bulletin board back together. It's basically full of important bits and bobs that I like being able to look at.
COME ON A TOUR!
Starting from the lower left:
- bouquet from the bouquet toss at a friend's wedding
- newspaper photo from the early 80's during the push for the Equal Rights Amendment
- a Star Trek-related postcard from Jill
- a card from Jill ♥
- a postcard of two girls at a jukebox
- a postcard of a woman swimming that says "Remember to Breath"
- a postcard that says "Be Honest"
- a postcard of women in polynesian dress
- Jill & Cally's addresses
- a full-page photo from an Iranian film set
- foil stars from my much-loved middle school art teacher
- a postcard that says "Love What You Do"
- copy-stamp cat on a post-it note from my old co-worker August
- a years-old horiscope told in bumper stickers
- the photostrip I got with Ryan in February
- a postcard of Frida Kahlo's first self-portrait
- concert tickets from David Bowie and Garbage
- an image from an event flier
- a postcard with a tattooed woman
- a postcard of Judith holding the head of Holofernes
- a dried rose someone gave me on the street from a bouquet he took to his mother's funeral
- Make Art Not War ♥
- and a copy of the front of a card I sent Jill
