This is the fourth entry I am openly speaking about my depression in. It’s really difficult to talk publicly about, and honestly, it’s even more difficult to admit to being depressed – or even what I’m doing because of it. I’m depressed. This is making me an emotional wreck, a temper nutcase and admitting a super-personal detail about how I slipped up and couldn’t stop the negative thoughts and just literally wanted to die one night to a manager where I work didn’t at all help situations. I’m already paranoid about what people know, and I can’t help that at all. I don’t want to intentionally have to miss work – I already can’t afford to go to work, so how the hell can I afford to miss work? And now I feel embarrassed and scared that what I said is going to spread – it’s probably considered ‘hot gossip’ – like wildfire. Just because I’m not yet on medication and/or being hospitalized doesn’t mean that my problem is just minor. And then I’ve customers who want to talk about how their dog died1, complain about how something’s not working2 and/or tell me that even though I’m probably just against the world right now because I’m going through a ‘teen thing’ that I should SMILE and it’ll go away so easily.
Like it’s easy to continue faking it. Like I’m still strong. Like I’m just putting this all in my freaking head. And then anyone who asks me any question that I can’t quite answer (because I can’t concentrate to save my life3 or remember much4) doesn’t/can’t/just won’t seem to understand that I can’t make my brain function right right now – no matter what I try, it’s just gonna do it’s own thing.
Faking my own happiness is what got me this low. Faking smiles and trying to be okay and hide it all is what got me here. I’ve gotten so bad that I’ve lost control of myself. I don’t like feeling this way. Anything can make me hate myself all over again. I don’t need a guilt trip for anything. I should not be asked any questions that choose what happens later and/or anything too serious/important for after I recover from this. I’m not going to tell you why I think you shouldn’t fire me. I hate myself already. You REALLY think asking me that is going to help? Or making me feel like I’m in trouble? Like it’s my fault my depression’s getting in the way? LIKE IT’S MY FAULT THAT IT IS ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT/ACT UPON? Just say it. Just tell me I’m a ‘lost cause’ and that you think this is all in my head. I fucking dare you. In testing I show zero signs of bipolar disorder, but like any other depressed person just because I seem ‘okay’ or I smile/laugh for a few seconds definitely does not mean that I am ‘cured’. I can’t smile. I can’t do anything I used to be able to do. I’m trying. Does it not seem like I’m struggling so hard?
Stress is just making me feel more horrible. It’s making me even more stressed.
…and then at work the faith topic came up. I don’t have faith at the moment, and a couple of my coworkers made me feel even worse because I felt like I couldn’t look to God and/or get help from him. ‘No matter what, He’s there.’ Really? That still doesn’t make up for how I fucking FEEL.
I hate this. I’m probably losing my job for it – which would also mean that I embarrassed myself for nothing.
I’m blogging about this because I realized I cannot remember a lot of things anymore, hence why I need to keep some kind of thing that keeps track of happenings.
But is it possible for an almost twenty-one year old to have a heart attack from a lot of stress? My chest won’t stop hurting. That won’t kill me, will it? I know I’m having those thoughts, but it doesn’t mean I actually want it to happen! D: -.- I’m starting to become numb. And I can’t quit lashing out at people (ahem, Stephanie).
“And then Glen treats me like some four-year-old. I can’t believe you took his side!” -Clare
I know exactly how she feels. For once I feel like I’m not alone in feeling that way. Now the Degrassi series just needs a story line relating to depression. One that lasts more than a few episodes, maybe a season or so. (x)
- I snapped at her, but it just … happened. Hearing “died” and “dead” and things like that didn’t help me! (And I told said manager about that, too, before it even had a chance to become a complaint.) ↩
- In which made my patience go a short distance. ↩
- No unfunny pun intended ↩
- I need insurance to have brain scans and testing done for a number of things. Long story. ↩