Thank you for stopping by.
The past few days have been some of the most painful for me. The depression is back, full force. I wake up wondering why I’m still alive. If I’m not forcing myself to be in class or lab, I’m sleeping to try to forget how miserable I am, or crying so hard I feel sharp, acute pains in my chest. Worse, I’m isolated, alone. And all I want, the only thing I feel like could possibly comfort me, is to have S in my life again. It’s kind of pathetic that I haven’t been able to move on, especially when I’m the one who wanted to in the first place. But he’s the only one who has seen me at my absolute lowest points, reached down still to pull me up into his arms, and let me drench his shirt with tears and snot until I could stand again. I don’t know how he put up with me for so long. I wonder if he knows how much of my thoughts are still about him, how much I miss him — though I am, of course, remembering and missing the best parts of our relationship in my feeble attempt to stave off this emotional emptiness inside. But in my weak state, I would gladly take the hurt, the arguments, the fundamental disagreements if I could feel his strong, comforting hand again in mine. I suppose it’s good that he doesn’t know, it’s good that we don’t talk, because I might be interfering in his life, which, from a rare few words exchanged, seems to be going well. He’s traveling this summer — which I thought I would be, too, but probably won’t be anymore. It sounds like he made friends in his program — which I haven’t. Though that may have changed as of last night. I had it all planned out, you know? Once I failed myself, once it was confirmed in a couple weeks, I had a plan. A sad, miserable, but quiet ending. I wasn’t smiling anymore and the things that used to cheer me up no longer held any positive power over me. But by chance I went to L’s apartment and met her cute little son, her young husband, and her menagerie of pets. Though a bit chaotic, I saw it again, just a snippet — of what I used to yearn for so constantly: a family of my own. Mixed species, mixed cultures, in a household full of crazy yet undeniably a household full of love. I’m still mentally ready to go. That whole existential bit of me has mostly taken over. People will forgive and forget me. But maybe I’ll wait a little longer and give myself another painful chance to heal. Maybe Sam asked me that dreaded question — what’s wrong? — at just the right time. The worst time for me, but she made me feel better in a way and to an extent that I did not expect. Maybe my heart hasn’t completely necrosed after all. Maybe it’s still open to good things. Maybe I’ll live to see another year.
i’ve been depressed, i guess severely. making up really sad haikus in my head about how broken, pathetic, and empty i am. burned out, sure. but it’s more than that, i think. so i hold too tightly and desperately onto the little hopes and little good things that i manage to grab in my frozen but sometimes oddly frenzied state. like that the new place i move into might actually be warm. that i might not have to clean up after my roommate every single day like i’m her mom but not have the guts to say anything because sometimes i am just like my mom — utterly spineless when it comes to issues of blame. that though i don’t have real friends here, at least some middle-aged administrative staff are looking out for me, for whatever reason. that my bosses seem to really like me and think i’m doing a good job. that although i am unfortunately becoming increasingly intolerant of being in lectures, i am a good worker in the “real” world…? i can’t ever seem to have enough true faith in myself. this is kind of stupid, but one of the movies that makes me smile and feel motivated is legally blonde (and hercules). no one thought she was smart enough, but she never gave up on herself. wish i could say the same. it’s not that i just feel like i’ve let everyone down — it’s that i definitely have let everyone down, including myself. it’s been another low month/semester/year for me, for a multitude of reasons. maybe it was all too much all at once. all that optimism and hope that i started out with… it’s funny to think of the contrast now. but here i am, not just alone but lonely, very sad but sometimes unfeeling,.. too depressed to function properly. and to think, a year ago precisely, how happy i was (i really need to focus less on the past; it’s a huge problem.). where will i be a year from now? heck, where will i be in a couple weeks / how many doors of opportunities will i have shut with my own betraying hand? how brave i foolishly thought i was, being the only person at orientation to stand on the side of the line indicating i wasn’t “afraid to fail.” i suppose it was and is true; i’m not afraid to fail. i’m not afraid of a lot of things people expect me to be fearful of (ugh, preposition). but it seems i had forgotten how much failure hurts. for someone who on the surface seems so conservative and quiet, i sure do take big risks. maybe too many.