My life does not seem difficult. At it's essence, it's not. I go to a state university in Arizona. I'm 21-years-old. I come from a fairly well-off family, with my father covering my education, room and board for the most part. During this financial crisis, I have a job. I have a wonderful boyfriend who loves me unconditionally. I'm an art major, an easy major. I minor in psychology because it interests me so much - I soak up information to the point I rarely need to study. It seems to me alot of people consider I should have nothing to complain about.
If only it were true.
Of course, anyone can say life is hard sometimes. But, for me, it's a little different. I have a severe case of general anxiety disorder, with an emphasis on social anxiety. I also have a strong history of depression. Sometimes, I can deal with life normally enough, but for the most part, even the most normal, day-to-day challenges of life are enough to derail me. Lately, I've found that it takes alot of courage simply to step outside the door. It gets to the point where the only way I can bring myself to leave my apartment is for a) school, b) work, c) my boyfriend, or d) when I'm desperate enough for food (or diet coke, my one true addiction). I have let myself starve for the solitude of my room. And then, the thought of social interaction of nearly any kind is enough to give me a panic attack - I'm a very awkward person, without any well-established, culturally-conformed idea of how to socialize, whether it's talking to people I don't know, or how to call a friend to meet up. I have no confidence in myself, and no clear concept of why anyone would want to hang out with me when there are so many other better people in the world. I feel like I have only one person to depend on, my boyfriend, Cory, but that brings me alot of pain, because it's not fair to him to be the one crutch I have, and if anything were to happen between us, I would be alone... On top of this, things I used to enjoy once, like drawing amazing fanart, or even watching tv, are no longer enjoyable for me now. I live in a foggy world where days run together, where I can't remember the most simple of tasks, to where I just don't care about how I look or what kind of mess I live in, really...
That is my world, and not even the deepest, darkest parts of it. And I know what people must think - in fact, people have told me so. Why don't I get therapy? Why don't I take anti-depressants? Why don't I leave this town, this school, this job behind, or find new friends?
I answer, in reverse order:
New friends? I've tried for three years to establish meaningful, mutually beneficial relationships with so many people... and for whatever reason, even though I always hear "Wow, you're really cool! We should hang out more!" I hear nothing... it's like being in a party full of acquaintances, people you know, but all of whom have their own friends to hang out with and talk to, and they don't really want you in on their conversation - you feel alone at the thought, don't you? That's how I feel.
The job? I have applied to other places, but the thing is, truthfully, that I am picky, but on top of this, jobs in a town that has college students as half its population, good entry-level part-time jobs are seriously hard to come by, ESPECIALLY right now with the economy the way it is. I have friends with plenty of work experience who turn in 30 applications and get zero callins. Currently, I work at a pizza place. There, I have, for nearly two years now, been repeatedly overlooked and forgotten for things like mandatory pay raises and promotions, and even simply hours - I have had weeks where I wasn't scheduled at all, even though I can work 30 hours a week. Much of it is my fault, for being too afraid to speak directly to my managers about these issues. But it's really hard for me to call authority figures out on their flaws, especially because I've long been told my way of viewing things is wrong (regardless of whether this is true). So for now, I feel trapped there. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with it all I have to hold my hands under scalding hot water in the handwashing sinks until I can calm down a little.
The school? I have a year left... schedule permitting. It'll be my luck that I don't get the classes I need and I have to stay an extra semester.... I never fully ever wanted to come here to begin with. I just followed some friends (an ex-boyfriend, mainly) because I was afraid. I knew I could go here, and I knew I could with very minimal effort (other state colleges required entrance essays - it made me too anxious to apply, forget submitting a portfolio or anything...) I should have left when I first wanted to, my freshman year. But some friends who ended up dropping out themselves, plus my boyfriend-who-wasn't-yet-my-boyfriend insisted I stay. So I did. Apart from my boyfriend, I regret it all. I hope the day comes where I wont say that, but for the moment, I do. But I can't leave. I also feel like so much of my suffering will have gone to nothing if I don't graduate from here....
The town? This kinda goes hand-in-hand with the school - cuz I could drop out, and stay here, but really... that's not gonna happen. I'm stuck in a very strict apartment lease until May 2010. Breaking that lease will cost me 1800 dollars. I can't even sublet my share of the apartment. I probably would've dropped out this summer if this hadn't happened - my dad is very strict about money, and it does cause me to do what I'd rather not do, because I'm thinking so much about my dad's wallet. I actually have had panic attacks about asking him to pay for things, like, school, tests, school applications. When someone bitches about money as much as he does, you just don't want to ask anymore, even when that means you're broke and, you know, depressed out of your goddamn mind.
Anti-depressants? I have been on drugs for depression twice before. And I. don't. like. them. True, when you're on them, you don't feel unhappy.... but you don't feel happy either. You don't feel anything. You just... exist. You think so rationally that imagination vanishes - and I am an artist and a writer. I would rather be miserable and have my imagination to console me than be stuck in a neverending, zombie-like emotional limbo. They're just not for me.
And therapy? I've been in therapy a couple of times before. I've been in a hospital before. Freshman year I had therapy. I stopped, right before it got its worse, actually. And I just couldn't bring myself to go back. I felt ashamed for leaving in the first place, felt ashamed for what happened after, and couldn't bring myself to tell my old shrink this, a shrink I did very much get along with and who helped me tremendously. That was two years ago. In May, I went back to him. I had to. I realized I wasn't getting anywhere. Unfortunately, he was leaving for the summer, and the person he referred me to to help me during the summer while he was gone was just.... terrible. He made me feel so much like crap the first visit that I couldn't do anything the rest of the day because I felt so goddamn awful. He wouldn't listen to anything I had to say, disproving everything as "just in my head" basically, and if there's ANYTHING I hate, it's THAT! Because, yes, how you interpret the world has a large effect on how you feel about it, but that doesn't mean certain things did not happen. So I decided to ditch him, and just wait for my other counselor to return in the fall. Well, it's fall. And I'm going to be calling the counseling center and start up appointments again.
And that brings us to this blog.
I want to change things for myself. I really do. I know that journaling about it can help so much. So, this is my place, to write about how I'm doing, how I'm improving, how I'm not, what I am doing to get better.... maybe one day I will get better, and I can use this blog to help others figure it out for themselves, too.
I want to change my brain.... and make it work the way it should, free of anxiety attacks, free of depression, free of loneliness and feelings of worthlessness.
This is my story xP
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