My tumblr has been dark for some time now. Tumblr started as a dark place for me. I often do that, I find a new media site to plant my thoughts and get my feelings out, until someone I know in real life finds me... then I have to sensor myself again. My true thoughts again unspoken. But I need tumblr again. Hopefully those I know in real life have drifted away from tumblr as I had. I don’t think I can handle their judgement and sighs. I keep pushing away those closest to me, snapping at them and ignoring them.
I didn’t used to be this way, I remember a time when I had passions and goals, when I actually enjoyed being with people and having a day full of activities. Those days seem like a movie, like that person isn’t really me.
College triggered it...I started struggling, I wanted a break, to sit back and think about why I wasn’t doing as well as I was used to, but everyone in my life just expected me to keep going. All the people that provided for me scoffed at the idea that I wanted a break. So I kept going. And my days got darker. I dreaded getting out of bed, I never wanted to do homework, I wrote less and less in my schedule book, skipped more and more classes. whenever I opened up to someone, they acted like I was whining for no reason. So I clammed up. I stopped telling people how hard it was, how unhappy I was, I never talked about any of it. I struggled more and my grades dropped, I failed a few classes. Subjects I used to be passionate about, I dreaded. My professors didn’t care. My parents didn’t know. My friends...what friends? I had secluded myself.
One day a professor that noticed I skipped a couple assignments asked, I didn’t really answer, but he still outright said that my problems didn’t matter. He said that they were nothing in the grand scheme, that other kids in other countries had it worse. It stung. Merely a few days later, it happened.
All my bottled feelings that had not been shared busted open. I couldn’t hide them anymore. In the middle of a class, watching a movie about how college didn’t matter, I ran out of the room crying. I found the closest bathroom and took refuge in the stall. I crumpled and tried calling the one person who still cared-he didn’t pick up. So I called my best friend. I cried to her and told her about all the things I’d been bottling up. I told her I couldn’t do it anymore. No, I have never been suicidal-I sometimes wish I could switch places with my dog, but I’ve been able to stay away from thoughts of death. I think this is what helped my finally make this decision, but I digress. She listened, she tried asking questions, when I exhausted all her “fixes” she finally told me that I should do what I felt I needed, but I could hear it in her voice, she thought it was stupid. I was devastated even more. My best friend couldn’t understand what I was going through and didn’t think that I was truly breaking, she thought I was being dramatic. I broke down more.
It’s bad enough having a mental breakdown in a public place, but realizing that in your panic, you left everything in that classroom that’s still in session, and you have to walk back red-faced, flustered, and face them all only to leave? Talk about multiplying the anxiety levels...
For a while I got better. I got away from college stress, worked a couple jobs, moved in with my now husband. But my ugly depression beast merely hid in the shadows. He’s back and bigger than ever.
I was handling him. He kept to the shadows, I knew he was there, but I never let anyone see him. He makes it hard to breathe sometimes, he holds me in bed much longer than I want to be. He sucks the life out of all the things I used to love. They turn to ash when he’s near. Lately he’s gotten bolder, staying close to me always, I can’t keep hiding him.
I’m tired. I want to enjoy life again. I miss being happy. I miss loving things so much. I miss my best friend. She no longer even pretends to support that side of me. She ignores it. Sometimes I try to tell her...but she goes on about other things. Those around me still say I have no reason to be this way, I just got married, I have a job, I’m generally healthy, and I have food and basic needs met. I know in my head that all these things are true, but somewhere, I can’t escape the feeling, I can’t find the life inside me, and I can’t chase the beast away. I can’t keep denying this truth. I feel like everything in my life is “can’t” and I’m tired of trying.
