I keep getting better at slowly getting worse, what's wrong with me when happy hurts?

 I am not ok. I try to pretend otherwise, try to make amends for conversations that only ever existed in my head, and for pushing people away as soon as I get close. I want to be better. I am also terrified that I am just.....not trying enough. I was doing better before my surgery. I was medicated, was keeping up with standard hygiene. Hell, I even was attempting to eat regularly since it was the only way that I was able to keep strength together, even though it was only barely enough to survive. 

Since I had my surgery, and have subsequently been able to eat more regularly, I have failed to do so. I find food annoying most times, in that it takes too much effort to make and enjoy when it is only for myself. I hardly find myself desirable to other humans for interaction, which I know annoys my people to no end, as they do everything in their power to make sure that I know they love me dearly. 

I do know that I am loved. I am extremely lucky in that regard. I just have a hard time believing that I deserve it, as I don't love me. I want to say I haven't in a long time, but in truth I never really have. I keep up the necessary facades, ensure that the people who love me know that I love them dearly for it, do whatever I can to avoid them realizing just how badly I am doing until it is too bad for me to keep up the pretense of normality. 

Today, I am awake after sleeping only 4 hours, after sleeping only 3 hours the night before. I am awake because it got into my head that I absolutely needed to go through the clothing in my apartment. And I worked on it, gathering dirty and wrinkled clothing, bed sheets, and blankets, going through the other various things that were in my room, and placing non clothing items on my bed, until I burnt out and now am too overwhelmed to clear off my bed. I am no more tired than I was, just unsure of the next step for what to do. I made the mess better and worse at the same time. It was done in an effort to have some sort of control over my space, which is too small for me, and so difficult to manage in its smallness due to lack of space. 

I have recently been talking to a guy who is pretty awesome apart from not being ready to be in a relationship due to his own situation, which I understand and accept. I haven't really shared my issues with him very much, because to be honest, who the fuck wants to deal with someone else's neurotic tendencies when they have their own problems to deal with, and because I actually like spending time with him, so I would like to avoid pushing him away. However, I know that I still do push the boundaries on what is ok and not. I am not ready for a relationship either, as much as I desperately want to be, if only because I know that I do better when I push myself for others. And in some ways, this friendship, or whatever you want to call it, has helped me get better, and more ready to be in a relationship.

It has pushed me to realize that I am terrified of being completely better, which sounds defeatist, but consistently is how mental illness works. I recognize that it is stupid to think that getting better would be bad, but I also recognize the amount of work that it will take to get better, and then have no idea who I am without that inner mess. 

The simple, yet unhelpful, truth is that I have absolutely no idea what will happen if I get better, when I get better. I know that I need to get better. I know there is no excuse to not do so. However, I know that it is a terribly difficult journey, and that because I have been mentally ill for as long as I remember, I do not know who I will be if I don't have those issues clouding my judgement and affecting my life. I don't know if my wellness will affect my compassion, my caring for others. I don't know if those parts of me are the ways I have managed to cope with not wanting to live but being unwilling to die. I don't know if they are how I try to find some way to feel like I am deserving of the love that I receive from the people I love. 

All I know is that I am terrified. I am a mess. And the first step, that would be getting back into regular medication, and possibly therapy, which is always the hardest step for me. It is the step that requires me to have someone almost force me into it because when it becomes necessary it is hard for me to get the motivation, or believe that I deserve the help, which I don't have or believe.

"History has its eyes on you"

So most of my thoughts and opinions on everything that has been going on has been posted on my Facebook, between sharing the inequalities of the country and the overbearing police actions on the citizens of this country. Today, I was moved to write more than is easily done on Facebook.

This country has failed so many of its citizens. This country has systematically abused so many.

I am just one person, and with my asthma, I have only said things online, unable to be in the streets. I have not been able to justify risking my life to stand with those who continue to be beaten down.


This week, Hamilton became available to watch online. Now, I have listened to the soundtrack, been moved to goosebumps listening to the history that this country has gone through. Watching the play, and seeing the actual visuals, showed me the very important point.

Now, back in the time of the colonists, the majority of the country was run by white men. Seeing the musical with mostly people of color brought the very, VERY important similarities between what happened then and what is happening now.

I have had a really difficult time with everything going on, because I am very aware of my privilege as a white female from a "good" family. Growing up, my grandmother always considered us "upper class", constantly reminding me that it is important what other people think of us. It is important to make sure that we don't allow people to know the family problems, and that longtime repetition of "we don't talk about those things" has been detrimental to me in many ways. I didn't get help for my depression until I was forced to by people who loved me, who saw me struggle and give up on caring
about my life and where I was going. I didn't start to heal from my past until I was shown unconditional love by people who had no blood reason to do so.  I have spent a good portion of my life making myself smaller for people who could not fathom the depth of my thoughts and emotions. I am ashamed of that. I let myself be limited to not offend "important" people.

When all of this started, with the pandemic started people going up in arms over keeping their fellow citizens safe, their countrymen and women who are at risk, because of inconvenience, I was annoyed as a person who is considered a higher risk. I was upset with the people so inconsiderate of the people that live in the world with them. When, 2 weeks later, the police killed a black man under the guise of protecting the country from a "criminal", a police officer kneeling on his neck as he plead for his life, until he was dead. His crime? Possibly giving a fake $20 bill.

Is that what our country is? We are more concerned over a potentially fake 20, while companies consistently underpay their workers, over work their employees until it is too hard for them to fight for their wages, much like the slaves in the times of ancient Egypt, working them into submission. But that is a completely different fight than what we are currently fighting for.

The police have long been getting more power, with less training than our military, while still having access to many of the same artillery and forces. As the first few weeks of the protests showed, the police have taken their power of the citizenry to frighteningly overbearing lengths, committing war crimes, making America one of the most dangerous places for journalists for the first time in a very long time.

Do I know everything about the situations? No, because I wasn't there. I don't know what compelled the police, who are supposed to enforce the law, to decide to commit WAR CRIMES, to attack journalists who are there to witness the events, to attack and destroy medical supplies for protestors including medical personnel.

I have never felt as scared for the safety of my loved ones. I have never felt so utterly sickened, to the point of actually throwing up at the President's response to what has happened, by saying that the police weren't going far enough.

I didn't have the words to properly express my pain, my utter distaste and fear at the appalling behavior of our government in this time where we should all rise together to be better. In the past 48 hours since Hamilton became available to watch, I have watched/ listened to it 4 times in its entirety. The most recent time, I was driving on the highway, watching as the fireworks exploded around the highway, as the song "History has its eyes on you" played, and I cried in anger, knowing that this kind of injustice, or overbearing need for control by a "leader" was exactly WHY they felt the need to rise up against the oppression of the King, why they felt that the only course of action was to remove the government in favor of one that actually cared about the needs of the people and not just the money that the people could make for it.

It was a good idea, great even, and the idea of a leader changing by the choice and voice of its governed people was not something that happened then.

Unfortunately, this country has forgotten these hard learned lessons. This country's leader has ignored the part of history where the citizens take the rule of the country into their own hands, and fight for what is right, just, fair.

I have not been one to make a lot of waves, holding my beliefs without pressuring them on others because I believe that it is everyone's right to choose what to believe. However, as more and more people are showing that what they choose to believe is that they are better than others because of health or skin color, the more angry I get. The more helpless I feel. Listening to Hamilton has reminded me that while I am not in the streets fighting with my loved ones for their right to live, while my voice is small as a woman from a small town where who you know matters and what you do is easily swept away with the right friends or family, I still have a voice. I still have the ability to think and speak for those who don't.

I have never felt so moved as I did last night, listening to the words on Independence Day, reminding me that history does, in fact, have its eyes on me, on all of us. I have never felt as passionately about fighting for the right cause, for making the lives of those around me who do not benefit in the ways that I have in this world a little bit easier.

I have had people tell me that I have been helpful in sharing everything that I find, and trying to be as fair as possible. When I see good things, I share them, and if it turns out those good things were to detract from the bad that happens later by the same people, I share that too. I have not been silent, I have made it very clear that when you are discriminating against people of color, you are discriminating against my family, my friends, the people that I love and respect.

There were a number of people who did not realize that I felt so strongly for equality who reached out, happy to know that I was allied with them. For them to not know that beforehand hurt my heart. It reminded me that I have not done enough, have not spoken loudly enough in the past.

I have not been silenced, nor have I been thought of as less, even though I have my own checkered past, and have made many mistakes, some of which I have still not completely owned up to. I have had anger problems and reacted in fear and irrationality when cornered. I have attacked the people that I love when I did not mean to do so.

With everything that is going on, I have gotten to the part of my life where I need to speak up. I need to raise my voice to the skies, and join in with the voices until the world can hear us collectively say "Enough. This will not continue to stand."

Am I perfect? No. I have not claimed to be. Many of the problems that I have had in my life are me getting in my own way, of not realizing that there were more things in my control during the portions of my life that were difficult than I previously recognized. At 30, I have finally gotten to the point that I am the only person who can control what I say and do, and I can recognize that my responses to things are based on how I was raised, what I have seen, what has been explained to me. Some of my responses have been conditioned on trying to mind my safety over anything else, my protection. As these terrible things keep happening in the government, as the country fights over something as simple as wearing a mask for the protection of its citizenry, as people make excuses time and time again for the police seeking to oppress the free speech of its citizenry, of blaming the victims for the responses, I have realized things that I am not proud of. I have a violent past, and not ONCE has a cop ever considered the need to pull a gun on me. Not once have I been considered a threat. Meanwhile, children of color are taught at a young age to be cautious in all their activities, stunting their childhood from the freedoms that children learn and grow from. When playing pretend is getting children shot, when jogging is getting men shot, when sleeping in their home after a long shift is getting women shot, and so many other scenarios, we cannot in good conscious let this stand. When the leader of our country is calling for harsher punishment, using tear gas to clear an area so he can take a picture, telling people of color to learn from history before they repeat it......I am sickened.

This is unconscionable. This is unbelievable. This is what we were afraid of when this leader was elected. And if he is reelected, I will not be able to stay locked behind my computer, just trying to educate my small portion of the world in whatever way I can. I cannot, in good conscious, stay inside hiding from the injustice. I will fight for the rights of the people I love, even if that means risking my life. As I listened to Hamilton on our country's day of independence, many different songs spoke to me, and while I have said enough in this, I feel the need to share the quotes that have stuck with me:

"I may not live to see our glory, but I will gladly join the fight, and when our children tell our story, they'll tell the story of tonight...Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away. No matter what they tell you. Raise a glass to the four of us. Tomorrow there'll be more of us telling the story of tonight."

"Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now. History is happening... and we just happen to be in the greatest city in the world."

"Oceans rise, empires fall. We have seen each other through it all, and when push comes to shove I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love."
"Thirty two thousand troops in New York Harbor. They surround our troops."

"Dying is easy young man; living is harder."

"Life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes, and if there's a reason I'm still alive when so many have died, then I'm willing to wait for it."

"There's only one way for us to win this: provoke outrage, outright. Don't engage, strike by night. Remain relentless til their troops take flight. Make it impossible to justify the cost of the fight. Outrun, outlast, hit 'em quick, get out fast. Stay alive until this horror show has passed. We're gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast."

"Or you could die, and we need you alive."

"Look at where you are, look at where you started. The fact that you're alive is a miracle. Just stay alive, that would be enough...I don't pretend to know the challenges you're facing, the worlds you keep erasing and creating in your mind."

"And just like that it's over. We tend to our wounded, we count our dead. Black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom. Not yet."

"How do you write like you're running out of time? Write day and night like you're running out of time? Every day you fight like you're running out of time, running out of time. Are you running out of time? How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive? How do you write like you need it to survive? How do you write every second you're alive?"

"No one really knows how the game is played, the art of the trade, how the sausage gets made. We just assume that it happens but no one else is in the room where it happens."

"When you got skin in the game, you stay in the game, but you don't get a win unless you play in the game. Oh you get love for it, you get hate for it, you get nothing if you wait for it."

"Even now, I lie awake knowing history has its eyes on me....Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control, who lives, who dies, who tells your story. I know that we can win. I know that greatness lies in you, but remember from here on in, history has its eyes on you."

Fighting an uphill battle

It is normal to lose traction in the fight against depression and anxiety.

I am going to say it again, because I absolutely, desperately, need to believe it.

IT IS NORMAL TO LOSE TRACTION IN THE FIGHT AGAINST DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY.

I am doing very, very, VERY badly lately. Very badly. And I am coming off of a panic attack again and I am just......... I'm terrified. I hate these things because I feel like I am out of control. I feel like I have nothing in my life worth doing because I have panic attacks over nothing. I hate every day of my life and there isn't anything wrong. I'm doing well at my job, I'm due to get an outstanding bonus this month, and getting back on my feet.

I'm not sure how to do this. I don't know how to handle panic attacks for no reason. I'm scared of this part of my life. I hate being so very out of control of my life.

I meant it when I said I wanna get well. I wanna get well.

I have been having panic attacks a lot lately. I panic and freak out while my heart races and stay silent because I worry talking about them will make it worse. Today the couple I was talking to decided to do a trial separation, the guy I've been spending a lot of my time with gave me one of his hoodies because I have 3 and he has 10, and driving home I felt like I was gonna die because I ate today and my stomach hates me. These all terrify me and I get home and I feel like I can't talk to my best friend because his gf is here. I feel like I'm losing my damn mind all of the time lately, and I don't know how to deal with anything right. I don't know if this guy likes me or if he's just biding his time in the hopes he stops feeling so lonely without having his kids all the time. I don't know if I caused my couple to break up. I don't know if the surgery they want me to do after Christmas for my stomach issues will help or hurt.
 I don't know if I can do this on my own, and I don't know that I have another choice. Im terrified that I want to be dead still, but there's noone I can explain that to who can make it better. And I can't afford a trip to the psych ward to get locked down when I don't have a plan to end my life, I just don't want my life to continue. I can't afford to be sick like this. I can't afford to be fucked up in the head.
 I'm tired of wanting to die, but forcing myself through the process of living, being social, seeming normal and ok, when all I want to do is curl up in a ball and die. When I need someone to hold me and tell me I might not be ok now, and that's ok, that they are still here. When I feel more alone than I've ever felt before. My family hates me, my best female friend for the past 4 years gave up on me, my support system is 2 hours away, and I don't know if I can do this. I feel like a fuck up more often than not, and not because I'm single. I've been single before, and I'm ok with it. I feel like as fuck up because I don't know how to take care of me, because I've gotten used to talking care of everyone else. I don't know how to do what every adult does for themselves, and I don't know how to ask for what I need, let alone what I want.

The life of constant illness

So I have been dealing with gastroparesis for just over a year, and I've only known it was gastroparesis since May. This life is strange and confusing, and I'm exhausted and tired of feeling sick. I tend to feel like I'm not good enough because dealing with this and depression sometimes takes everything out of me.  I feel like I can't get everything I need done, and that my life is going to crumble around me because of it. I'm barely getting by, and being sick just makes it worse. I don't know what to do about it, and some days it's prefer if everything was just over, but to tell anyone who hasn't felt this way, or dealt with these things, just gets me hlepy advice. "Just smile it will get better", "get out and do something", "don't dwell on it", "do what the doctors say so you feel better". All said in kindness, meant to be helpful, but ends up making me feel more worthless, more pointless, more like I'd be better off not existing. I cannot keep feeling this way. It is a miserable existence. I just want to be done.

Wide awake

It is 5 am and I've been awake since 10am. I'm exhausted, but I lay down and just toss and turn. It is frustrating to no end, and I don't know why it is happening.

I haven't had this be my life in a while. Today was an excessively bad day at work, and after slightly throwing up at my desk, I had 3 more hours to get through. Figured I would get home and just.... sleep. But nope. Can't sleep. Even a shower to help relax didn't help. Now I'm wide awake and also clean.

My life lately

It has never been the days where everything goes wrong that have are bad days. It is always the days where nothing happens, where I'm just alone, not doing anything, that I wonder why I'm even here, why I even bother. I surround myself with memories, pictures of the people I love, memorabilia of times that I felt loved, cared for, happy. I pretend that it helps. I pretend that I am ok. Today I have sat here doing nothing, even though I know that I need to get things together in the house. I actively wanted to die today, intrusive thoughts fucking with my head. I don't know what is wrong with me.  Well I do. But I have never been this bad, not ever. I wanted to die today, slit my wrists and stop existing. I just....It is bad. I've been looking at the pictures of people who love me, or used to love me, or something. I don't even know anymore. I haven't seen any of them in ages. I feel lost, and confused. I feel terrified all the time. I can't fake it when I'm not busy. I can't pretend that everything is fine. I'm too cowardly to ever actually act on intrusive thoughts, which is, in may ways a blessing I suppose or I would have been dead years ago. I've never told anyone that I often feel like taking my life would be an appropriate solution. I don't tell people that I wish that I had the courage to end my damn life because I don't feel like I'm any good, or worthwhile, no matter how much people tell me that I am. No matter how many people I help or bring a smile to, I don't feel like I have any worth. I know that I am important to people, I know that I matter to people, that I make people happier being around. I know because people tell me that, but the back of my brain consistently says that they are just pitying me, or saying it because they think its what I need to hear. I don't feel like I deserve anyone caring about me, so I push people away, distance myself as much as possible. I isolate and watch the destructive spiral happen over and over. Most people give up quickly, don't try to push too hard. There are a select few who are do push, but over time I get even the most patient people to leave, either by being too fucked up, or pretending that I have it under control. I would rather keep people away most times because it is too much for me, and I live with my brain every day. I can't imagine what it would be like if most people knew that underneath this cheery facade I would rather die than get up most mornings. I'd be in a locked ward probably, being force fed the meds that I keep forgetting to take. It would probably be better for me in the long run, honestly, but I am terrified of being in a psych ward. I don't know what to do. I think thats where I'm headed.

Living is a problem because everything dies - Biffy Clyro

I haven't written in a long time.

At first, it was because I was doing better, making positive steps, working on getting my life back together.  Lately, I have been getting worse, and today, as I lay here trying to sleep, I burst into tears because I had a moment of clarity: I am back to bad again.
I isolated myself in a new town, pushed away my best friends with reckless and thoughtless actions, let my emotions take over rather than thinking and being rational.

I got blackout drunk and lost one best friend by attacking him.
I overreacted to boy problems, and my reaction caused my other best friend to need a break from me as well.
I got locked out of the house I hadn't finished moving out of because I was too unmotivated to function past necessity, and my over the top reaction to that has caused my family to believe that I am on hard drugs.

God, if that were only true.

At least then, it would be something that would be easily fixed. At least then, it would be something that would explain the irrationality of it all, something to show why I've been so out of my mind.

I can't explain why I've been so irrational, or why I've been reacting to things that normally slide off my back.
I can't explain why I'm not processing things properly, or why I can shut off at work, pretend to be a normal functional member of society, then as soon as I am home, I lay on the couch and do nothing.
I showered once last week. I hardly ate, and I barely slept. I played the part well at work, and most people don't ever see how dead I am inside, how much I don't care about my life or anything. I don't show my pain, or my self hatred, or my general apathy. I don't show how much pain I am in physically, or how hard it is to not throw up each day. I don't know how to handle this. I was diagnosed with gastroparesis in May after being sick since October. Now I know why it is that I feel like death all the time, but there isn't an easy cure. I can't even be properly diagnosed until November when I swallow a Smart Pill that will show exactly what my digestive system is doing every step of the way. I can hardly function most days, but I muddle through somehow in public, putting that facade on once more, the "everything is fine, I'm happy and doing well" mask that I wish would just be my life.

My friends see it when I am around, which hasn't been much lately. They worry over me, and I try to keep pretending, acting like things are just fine, letting excuses fly about a few minor problems to help their concerns. Everything is an act though lately. I go home and I'm numb. I sit and do nothing. I wake up after a few hours, and I put on the act of being an adult. I do errands, buy food I hardly ever eat, and go to work. I get off work, I come home and do it all over again. I pretend to function, and I look halfway decent, and force myself to do enough to survive each day. I force myself to shower at least once a week, eat what I can keep down when I feel like I can force myself to try. I wear clean clothes, and force myself to do laundry when I run low. I look like I am put together, wear makeup when I am especially bad. It helps people get distracted from the fact that my smile doesn't quite make it all the way to my eyes, that my customer service voice is a little bit too cheery, that I don't focus as well, have to write more down to remember what I am talking about. I like having the structure of work, because it means I know what is expected, I know what I can do, and I know what I can't do. I know these things, and can react appropriately.

I know I need to get another doctor, a regular doctor who I can talk to about my concerns, who can adjust my meds, as they are clearly not working as well as they used to. I know I have to. I know that is the logical step in getting back to better. I know that, because I'm not stupid.

I am, however, also back to the paranoid part where I am concerned that they are going to put me in the psych ward, because maybe that is where I belong. Maybe I should be put in a safe place like that, make sure that I don't hurt myself or anyone else when my emotions take over, when I just react without thinking. I just.....I don't know if I am actually ok. I don't know if I can come out of this one. I don't have anyone right now, and it is dangerous to me. I know that, but I still just.....I have a hard time asking for help, when most of my life asking for help meant that I was being weak, which was not worthwhile, meant that I was too much trouble. I thought I was past this feeling. I thought I was ok. I thought that this was at least something that I was past.

This time the spiral is scaring me, because it is faster, and I don't know how to pull out of it on my own. Well, that isn't entirely true. I know how to pull out of it. I just don't know if I have the strength to do so on my own. I am terrified, and noone sees it, because everyone is gone, pushed away when the spiral slowly started. I want to be dead every day, but I don't want to say it and have people pity me. I don't want those looks, the ones that show up every time I am really me.

I miss my best friends kicking my ass out of my funk, making me see myself, fight for myself, fight for them. I miss having people who love me nearby, but I want to be in a better place for myself. I want to be able to survive without someone's help. I want to be capable of living without someone's help. I am miserable knowing that I can't do that yet. I am not able to survive on my own still, at 30 years old. Who the hell can't function at 30 as an adult? Who the hell still needs help at 30?

This spiral of worthlessness and defeat is hard to pull out of. The facade is easier to keep up, an easy part to fall back on, the dumb girl who has things easy, with everything working out well. The newer people don't look past it, with few exceptions. The mask slips a bit and the observant notice, but accept "I just don't feel well today" as an answer. The unobservant think I'm nothing, not realizing the mask is even there, assuming I am just bubbly, happy, carefree, dimwitted even.  Sometimes I let my intelligence slip out, and watch the confused looks, the quick dismissal. My pain gets easier to mask, the consistency becoming normal, with few exceptions. The nausea waves come, but I find it easy to keep it down most days, as there isn't much in my system to throw up anyway. I leave work exhausted from pretending to be someone ok, someone not in pain. I talk about work on my breaks so I don't have to think about the situations I have put myself in, because who would understand that I recognize that it is insane to behave in these ways, but I can't stop myself at the time of them? That when I'm overwhelmed, my rational thoughts are there, but not loud enough to overpower the agony, the sorrow, the rage, the betrayal felt. That getting blackout drunk, to lose my control, to not remember that I couldn't feel anything but pain and sadness, seemed like a better idea than to feel them. That running away when I could hardly see through the tears and agony of my family deciding I was worthless, a liar, a druggie, seemed easier than accepting that in my rage of the betrayal I felt, I fucked up, and I made choices that could have been better. I let my feelings take over, because I was alone and scared, and losing my safety net.

I am not in control, and I recognized it too late. And I don't know how to fix it, because death would be easier. I don't want to kill myself, but I want to die every day. I don't want to live this way, scared that I will never be able to function. I don't know how to ask for the help I need. "Figure out what you want and learn how to ask for it." Yeah, sure. Easy enough. Just do the one thing that makes me feel like I'm even worse off than I already feel. Shit.

Fighting against the big fur coat of depression

I have been thinking a lot lately about where I am in my fight with my depression, compared to where I was even 2 years ago.

2 years ago, I was going through the motions. I was going to work, eating when I remembered, showering when it started to be a problem, and in general just staying in my room. I was not as bad as I have ever been, but I still wasn't ok. The problem was that because I didn't feel as bad as I had been used to, I thought that was a normal way to be.

I am now in a place where I actually feel like I have control over my life, where I know what is considered to be healthy and normal, and I strive daily to be able to keep up with it.

I don't always make it, and that is okay. 

 I am actually fighting for myself, trying, and sometimes even succeeding, at functioning well.

HOWEVER, there are still days that are very bad, seemingly worse than they were when I was used to that being my normal state of being. When I find myself slipping back to where I was, I find that a lot of songs by Icon for Hire help me to focus and remind me that I am fighting every day, and that I have to keep fighting, even on the days that it seems pointless. The following 2 songs specifically, Get Well and Iodine, always help me get out of the catch-22 depression can have on you, where you feel like either it isn't your fault so you can't do anything about it, or it is ok to dwell in that feeling. They remind me every time that I cannot live that way and be who I am.




I am a lot better than I used to be, and I know that is because I found a doctor who not only listened to my issues without judging me, but also paid attention when I felt uncomfortable with different medicines that we tried, to determine what she thought would work better so that I could be ok.

My life isn't that hard anymore, and I have come a long way in getting past the things that used to drag me down that are no longer in control of my life. The fact that I was still depressed was not a matter of a situation or my opinion of the situations. I was and am depressed because I have a chemical imbalance in my brain, and if I had never tried to get help for it, I don't know that I would be able to function on my own. I know that I will likely have to be on medication for the rest of my life, which is still something that I am trying to be ok with. I know there is nothing wrong with better living through chemistry, but having grown up in a family that hides emotions until they explode, and refuses to believe that there is something that you can't just get over, I sometimes have a hard time accepting that there is nothing more that I could have done for my depression than what I am doing now. I have a chemical imbalance that needs correction, because my brain does not make the chemicals the correct way.
Maybe one day in the future that will be able to be fixed, but as of right now, I have to do this, and there is nothing wrong with that. 

Today I decided to write because while I know that my blog does not get many readers (mostly due to my lack of a writing schedule and consistent content), I want it out there for people who do struggle with some of the same things that I have struggled with, to see that not only are there other people out there who are working through the same things or have worked through the same things, but that it can ABSOLUTELY get better. If you keep fighting, it WILL get better. 

 This week has been rough because my husband left me 5 years ago, and this year would have been the year we tried for children. I have been upset, not because he isn't in my life, because I couldn't be happier about that, but because I am not currently in a place to have children. I am a lot closer than I was 2 years ago, yes, but I am still not there yet. It saddens me but I am proud of myself for not sinking into that feeling and refusing to do anything. I am working on being the best me that I can be, because I will not be ready to bring more people into the world until I am ok with me. I will not be able to find someone to be my person until I am my own person, and love me as much as I love those around me. 

I am proud of where I am. I'm not perfect. I'm not "fixed" yet, but I am much healthier than I have been in a long time, and I am extremely proud of myself for that. Even better, while I did have my best friends help me get to that point, I did it myself. I fought for myself and continue to do so. I am the reason I am better, and the joy that brings is indescribable.  

 

Someday....

Someday, I want to be ok with myself. I want to be happy with who I am. I want to be comfortable showing the people I love how very important they are to me.
Someday, I want to find a person who isn't afraid to love me, a person who embraces my oddities and weaknesses as well as my strengths. I want to be able to openly show affection, without worrying if someone sees, or that it will ruin us. Someday, I want to find someone who helps me feel ok in my skin on days I feel like screaming and crying, even if their day isn't going the greatest either. Someday, I want to be that person for someone else.
Someday, I want to be a mom, want to hold my children close and kids their tears away, wrestle smiles on their faces with tickles and giggles. I want to celebrate their milestones, and comfort them after their failures, help them to accept their shortcomings, but move past them. Someday, I want my kids to fight with me for what they think is best, want them to stand up to me when I am assuming I know best without having the full story. I want them to know that I love them, even when they aren't perfect, but that I expect them to be their very best.

Someday, I want my life to be different. And I know I have to try harder to get that.

Always someone's ex

I am not someone's everything. I don't really want to be, but goddammit it would be the best thing in the world sometimes. It would be really nice to have someone care about me the way I care about him.....the way they care about the girls they adore. I just......dislike not being someone important to someone else. I hate it. I hate it so much. But I would hate to be someones everything, the only thing that matters to someone.
I am Izzy, but I am also George, and I am Meredith, and I am goddamn Karev, and I am fucking Jo. And right now I really hate being Izzy. because I know that I can't get by without my best friend. I know that it is not ok to be all or nothing all of the time.

But who am I to my person, is just a friend. and the only people who are interested in me are interested because their person isn't interested. God, it would just be nice to be someone's first choice.

Im having a hard time. Love is not easy, and accepting that you should let go of love is even more difficult. I want to be ok. I want to be happy. I want my life to be fuller. I know letting him go is best, and I am trying, but he keeps me focused and sane, and I know I am safe when he is around. He makes me care about me, about growing and being the best version of me that is possible. Maybe it is selfish, but it isn't nothing.

On the other hand there is the friend who calls me when he is sad and needs a friend, and I constantly have to tell him that if his wife hasn't gotten rid of her fling in 4 months, she isn't going to do so.