It must be polite to reply comments and autographs and I feel that I must, but whenever I get a notification for Depression Tribe, I often feel a bit melancholy. I shouldn't be so negative, but this site serves as a nice tool to release sobering and those angry, itching thoughts.
My mother broke down a bit ago, in February I think. Enviornmentally, she grew up hating her father who couldn't hold a job. When her mother (who she describes as cold and unforgiving, unlike a mother) left her father, her father became catatonic and would never do anything. He became a bit of what she considers a worthless person, never moving from the couch and never showering or getting up. Never working, always sleeping, a bit of a smelly lump. So she and her siblings lived basically on their own, fending for theirselves.
She, my mother, is afraid of becoming like him. And she spent so many years (5 if I recall correctly) making sure she trusted my father and he was the one, just so that she would never end up like her parents. She never fooled around with boys as a girl because it was socially accepted to marry the father whether you loved them or not. She detested the idea of marrying a person she didn't love.
Apparently, hiding it from me, my mom ended up battling depression. She was never even supposed to have me, until, on some settled whim, they decided to have some angellic child.
I remember once seeing her break down on the top of the staircase, crying. Other times, she would burst out that she should go kill herself using the stove or something like that. I didn't understand it, but it happened so rarely that I didn't dwell on it and kept it at the back of my mind.
Once I hit puberty and started disagreeing with her, I lost distance with her and we both ended up despising each other. "Behind my back," she we having therapy and taking pills but once we moved to Texas, her depression got worse.
Considering…she's too old to start over and create new friends, we don't agree with a lot of the people here, the neighbors aren't as friendly, and she can't settle on a therapist. Also, I put my father in jail.
It was around puberty, the ages of 11 and 12 that I first showed signs of depression. Although, I still don't know if I was just spoiled and too emotional (and that's still the case today) or I'm really fucked up in the head.
It could definitely be caused by my hypothyroidism as well. I was born premature and I think my thyroid was so underdeveloped that I actually don't have the gland…whenever the Texas endocrynologists are checking my thyroid, they're shocked to see that I apparently don't have one. (We never had an X-Ray done, so it could be hidden.) Anyways, since I've had it for about 212 months now, I've grown used to the "side effects" despite my regular use of synthroid. Chills and sensitivity to coldness. Mood, constipation, bit of a deeper voice, etc.
With my mom, it's all rocky and I'm easily more and more frustrated by the day, especially when I get home. I have to ride the bus and I feel smothered and stalked by a premature boy who has his mother pick him up at my house, so by the time I'm home, I feel like punching something out of frustration. That's a problem I've always had, I get frustrated too easily, and I'm always too damn nice to tell people upfront that they bother me and I need space.
If I have an episode or feel extremely depressed (which has happened more than usual this weekend), my mother often comments in return (if I talk about how I shouldn't be alive or she should just kill me) that I'm not worth going to jail over and I should kill myself, and I've tried. Bit too much of a weak-minded, fearful individual to let myself rot into the ground. I'm a bit scared that people will call out suicide and call me weak or try to bring lack of religion into it. Or the fact that I'll rot into hell or I wanted attention. Same old crap. When I talk about my feelings, I do honestly feel like a GOTIS attention whore. I do tend to show the symptoms and all.
I'm doing my sophomore research project on the psychoanalysis of dreams and to be honest, I find Carl Jung's theories a bit on the crazier side. But the whole history and idea of dreams and interpretations is quite an interesting topic. Now I just…have to write a research paper. Oh shit. I have to write a book report too. Shiiiiii
On the 13th, the same day the report is due, my braces are supposedly finally coming off after 2 years and 4 months, they've scheduled the long appointment to take it off. However, they've repeatedly pushed my taking-off appointment back because I don't wear my rubber bands…because I'm terribly SICK of my braces and the bands, that the longer I have to wear them, the less of a chance there is that I'll actually wear them, which goes in a viscious braces-forever cycle. So I'm praying to the atmosphere that they overlook my lack of care and take it off. Prom is next May, and if I possibly snag a date (unlikely as hell), that would be a nice presentation. Bare teeth. How wonderful the thought is.
Haven't done yoga lately due to period. I am therefore bloated and disappointed in my 16 year old body. Yoga is quite healing. So go find a yoga class today and begin your spiritual journey! Yeah. Ok.
I finished the Hunger Games today, which is quite a pleasant book if you disregard the unorganized thought and naive character. I honestly thought I would hate it, I hate reading stories of other little teens and mostly like to stick to adult mystery novels. Or adult novels in general. But this wasn't too bad. Finishing the Catcher in the Rye. Not bad. Finished The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest by Steig Larsson. It was good, bit more of a happy ending than I expected, but it was nice overall. Getting a little bit back into drugs, not that I can get my hands on anything "good."
And I'll never do anything considered "hard," that's my life expectation. Just marijuana and though I avoid cigarettes, if I keep it up, there's a good chance I'll become an adult smoker. Not a good thing. I heard shrooms are supposed to self-enlightening, but that's the farthest I would go. "Taking ecstacy once is like taking an ice cream scoop out of your brain," not going in that direction. Out of frustation and boredom, I downed some shots last weekend and realized how lightweight I am. I try to stay off alcohol, but when I want to feel numb and have nothing else, I end up using it as a last resort. I think the whole usage of any substance is depressing, but this whole world is depressing in general as well.
Maybe if I wasn't so awkward, clumsy, and socially awkward…I could actually get somewhere in this life and be happy and make some friends. But I'm 16. I still have a whole life in front of me. College decisions. Career decisions. I can wait until I'm 30 until I see whether my life's how I want it or not. Then I can complain, can't I?
I wonder why time keeps ticking.