I am sitting at my favorite coffee shop working, when an old obsession walks in. A girl. A girl who I have written about before. We ran in the same circles in highschool and early college but never really connected. She is from the same place, knows the same people, goes to the same coffee shop, and yet she is beautiful. Beautiful enough to be a model. I see her walk in and I look closely at her outfit to determine what new closet staples I should adopt: Jeans and a sweater. Got it. Why does jeans and a sweater look good on her and not me? I take out my phone and face it to myself to check if I am in fact as ugly as I believe. Yes. I look tired. My brows are naturally furrowed as I work, I try to unfurrow them while I look at myself and fail as I study the bags under my eyes and the acne healing on my chin. She doesn’t look even a little tired. She looks like she is well rested. When was the last time I felt well rested. I cannot remember.
I work hard and scramble for money each month as the last day of the month rolls around. I usually can’t sleep because I am staying up working on something, or I am staying up thinking about things I could be working on. Sometimes I think about her and her friends. It was my freshman year roommate who was her friend and who got me in her orbit. We talked maybe once. I followed her on instagram, but she did not follow back. After years of obsession with myself and how to be perceived I deleted my instagram account. Sometimes I think I might want it back, but then I get sick thinking about people looking at me. People knowing what I’m doing, or worse, knowing what people are doing.
I haven’t kept tabs on my freshman year roommate. But she was struggling the last time we spent time together. She was explosive at times and usually chose to lash out at people. We were going to be roommates sophomore year and get a place together but she was characteristically explosively mean to me. I ended up living at home that year. Alone for most the year while my dad underwent an experimental treatment at the NIH. That year we had a lot of snow. Like record breaking amounts of snow. I was alone in the mountains for most of the winter surrounded by record breaking snow. Sometimes when I saw international news covering our snowfall I felt proud. Like I summoned the snow, or like I was a part of the snow, or maybe the snow was a part of me. I felt stupid. No-one is a part of the weather. The last time I saw my freshman year roommate she seemed a lot calmer and her friends all told me she was doing a lot better. She told me she started an anti-depressant and it helped her a lot.
I have now tried two anti-depressants and a round of ketamine treatments. At the time my freshman year roommate told me she tried an anti depressant I thought to myself I would never try that. I first tried prozac which made me anxious and my vision feel stilted and I became very paranoid. I took it for 3 days before I stopped out of fear. I then tried the ketamine treatment. It made life feel easier but the feelings didn’t go away. Every time I talk to my mother, antidepressants come up, and how I should take them. I tried a second antidepressant that was supposed to make me less reactive and obsessive. I took this one also for 3 days but it caused terrible insomnia even 4 benadryl couldn’t crack. I felt achy and sick every day I was on it. I stopped and didn’t tell anyone I even tried it. The side effects outlasted the 3 days I took them and for a week I could not sleep and if I did I had terrible nightmares.
I wonder if she is on some drug that makes her happy. Or calm. My problem mostly is my obsessing, does she obsess? I kind of want to ask. She sits two tables away from me. “What do you do to stop the obsessing?!” I want to ask. She wouldn’t answer in a way I want to hear. Nobody can. I’ve asked that question to doctors, my mother, therapists, teachers, friends. Every answer is horseshit. Exercise, eat good, sleep good. Okay. I’ll try that again. I don’t have time to exercise or eat good. I barely have time to eat a meal. Set goals. What goals? Nothing matters. The problem is that nothing will suffice. Nothing will make me comfortable in my obsessions. The medications only become more of an obsession, and the advice only pisses me off. I’m supposed to focus on things I value and things that I enjoy. I lost what that is. I’m burnt out and upset a lot of the time. My brain is usually stupid and slow because of my lack of sleep. I can’t even follow advice.
I wish there was something good to do when I’m angry. Angry at the world angry at my mother. I’m always so angry at my mom. It feels like she hates me. I know it's ridiculous she's my mom. She is always with her boyfriend and when she's not she doesn’t want to spend time with me. I understand my current condition is insufferable. I have to live with it 24/7, not just when I talk to my mom. I am trying to let go of that anger. But it seems impossible. I am on my period. In 3 days I will forget about anger. I will forget about the girl in the coffee shop. I will remember that nothing is so serious.
I heard her talking. She says she wants to be “done” being social. Is that so.
She has an abundance of friends. I have always struggled with that. I cannot make friends for the life of me. I hate making friends. I am judgemental. I think people are stupid. I think friends are wastes of time. A-lot of the time, they are. Every time I have had a new friend since 9th grade they have been massive pains in the ass. Nobody ever sees things the way I do and it takes so much time to explain. They require lots of attention and I have no time.
Sometimes I think I would be happier with more friends. But that’s insane to say because I actually have no clue. I have moved my whole life never staying in one place too long so I have never had “a-lot” of friends.
She left a few minutes ago. I’ve already made note to wash my hair and get new glasses frames. I forgot about her for a few months. But here she was.
Anyway. I am planning on getting good sleep tonight. I’m meeting with my psychiatrist soon and will bring up my sleep issues. And my issues with the antidepressants again. She is this funny russian woman who prescribed me ritalin after a 30 minute meeting over zoom. I’m trying to better structure my work/home balance. That’s why I’m at a coffee shop. Not working. I’m going to try to get everything done so I can do things I “enjoy” at home. Still working that out.
