I'm Not the Only One That's Sick

And I don't mean in the sense that there are other people out there that have Depression, because of course there are, but I mean I've found so many other people are sick with something far worse, believe it or not, and that something is


And Selfishness.

And idiocy, to put it bluntly.

We live in a world where we are fed lies and filth and told we are free, yet we are laughed at if we are to be ourselves.

We live in a world where being weak is considered 'cool' and where being lost is actually a location.

We live in a world where acts of kindness are shocking and admired yet we nod and shrug when we see death and murder and these horrible, disgusting things on the news.

Is the world really that much in flames today?

People are selfish and pathetic. People are either self-righteous or self-harming and it's hard to find an in between.

We are full of thoughts as fake as plastic and just as copied and pasted as the models nipped and tucked who we are supposed to look like. Who we are supposed to WANT to look like, because we ourselves are not good enough.

People are killing one another and everyone is fighting, all the time, all day--themselves or their peers or strangers.

It's hard to be good or want to be good in this world because of you, all of you--lying and cheating and stealing and DESTROYING. Your "not caring" is going to burn this world to the ground. All of the destruction makes it hard to see any way to be rebuilt.

Friendship means nothing today and strangers are something to be wary of because, who knows, they might stab you when you're not looking, and don't even get me started on how worthless love is to people.

What is love anyway? We sure as heck don't know as humans.

People call each other ugly and worthless and say hateful things because someone said the same things to them last week.

When you open your blind eyes are you really surprised that I'm depressed? Really? That anyone is? My gosh.

We live in a world where woman have to carry around pepper-spray or wear neck to ankle dresses or else it is 'our fault' that we are raped and beat and harassed and abused.

We live in a world where men believe girls are not people but objects to break or set on a shelf and those who don't think this way are ignored.

Men belittle women and women belittle men.

No. It doesn't matter WHAT gender you are--you should respect women whether you are one or not. You should respect men whether you are one or not.

Have we really become that hateful?

To not even respect our own? To not even respect ourselves?

I see people who believe in nothing and are living for nothing. They have no future nor determination. Nothing to carry them farther than that summer night where they're drunk or smoking or destroying their life all for temporary pleasures.

Well, there is more to your life than tonight, dear, so ask yourself what the heck will you do when it’s all faded? Will you look back on your bad choices and stupid decisions with pride when you are older?

Distractions are short-lived and your little friends want to use you. What about when you're older? What then? Good luck.

And too many adults act like brainless children--they reprimand teenagers when they don't even have their own lives figures out but yet they should take their own advice.

Divorce and betrayal and abuse and sheer stupidity. What the heck? What are you even doing?

Does no one have the decency? Does no one have the brains? Does no one have the heart?

To stand up and LIVE for something because you're all wasting away and one day you'll be dead and will you have anything to be proud of that you haven't destroyed?

Oh, there was that one night-

Oh, but I had so much fun when-

No. Stop. Stop it.

Who the heck cares how much FUN you're having?

Temptation preys on the weak, and all I'm seeing is weakness.

Why are you here? Why were you put on this Earth?

Heck if I know, but I do know it wasn't for you to have FUN for one night, one tiny blink that doesn't even matter, and then waste away. We're here to love each other and be there for one another, not write the word "enemy" on anyone who disagrees with you.

It's everywhere--it's on TV and on the news and in public and in my head.

Straighten up. Be a human being, not a spineless dog. Barking and biting at one another and cowering when someone tells them the truth.

Get over yourself. Love someone who makes you better, not someone who "pleases you". Gosh. Find friends who hang out with you not when you're the last resort, but who actually wants to because they see the good in you. Friends who encourage you and show you you can have fun without killing yourself in the process.

Listen to music that inspires and do things that are safe and healthy and if there is temptation in your life get rid of it. Spit on it and rip it apart, since you're all so angry all the time. Turn your anger away from other people and yourself and towards the negatives that are tearing you into pieces, alright?

And please live your life like you actually have a dang purpose, okay? Because you DO have a purpose.

It's two AM and I'm not even going to regret this tomorrow.


Hospital Gowns Are So Stylish

It rained today and it was lovely. Nothing like being cold and wet in a Hospital to brighten your day.

My Check-Up was today, after three weeks of being on my Antidepressant.

It went better than expected.

Granted, I know I haven't been doing as much stretching, eating as much as I should have, but I mean I'm not too worried about it considering I gained two pounds and the Doctor said she can clearly see an improvement just in the way I look.

So that was great.

We brought up my Scoliosis and she sent us over to the Hospital to get my spine X-Ray done and I was like: as long as there are no needles or pain I will go peacefully.

So after trailing through countless white hallways that all looked the same, I had to sit in a waiting room and be nervous because I'd never done this so of course I had to use the restroom because I have to pee when I'm nervous. Sorry if that's too much information but ask anyone at the Theater right before show-time.

Then I was called back and I had to sign my name which was like a lopsided C and a bunch of scribbles because I wasn't prepared for this. Then I had no idea what today's date was so I had to ask. Ha go me.

I got to change into two gowns--like, one on front and one on back. So fashionable.

This freaky machine did all the work and truthfully I almost fell asleep laying there--I didn't, though, we were already leaving.

We'll know hopefully by tomorrow what the percentage of the Scoliosis is, and I'll keep you all up-to-date, but when it comes to seeing the Doctor for my depression, my appointment isn't until two months from now, unless of course I need to see her sooner.

I've been sleeping in my Mom's room, in case you didn't know, since I went to the doctor the first time because I was not allowed to be alone and nights were the worse for me, but thanks to a good checkup I'll be able to sleep in my own bed again, under the strict promise that I'll wake Mom up if I don't feel safe.

I will, of course, but I really think I'm going to be okay, and if not then I just need more time, and that's alright, too.

Also I woke up to my throat scratching like crazy, so thanks to my Brother for "sharing the love" of his sickness. Though if anyone's sick, chances are I'll catch it shortly after. Egck.

I'm sleepy and achy and really can't make myself do anything but listen to Brian Crain's beautiful music, because it helps get me in a happy place.

So keep on keeping me in your Prayers! I love you all and thanks for reading!

Update: My Day

I go to the Doctor's this week for a checkup after three weeks of being on the Antidepressant, and I know that I have improved.

I know I have, but not as much as I could have, and I know that. It's just been hard to get into a whole new routine.

Today especially was very new and very exciting/disorienting because change is a very shaky thing for me.

My day roughly went like this:

First I woke up at, of course, 1:00 in the afternoon or so. This is an improvement compared to how late I've been sleeping these last few weeks, trust me. I woke up many times in the night, but that's nothing new. I had no vivid dreams this time or any level of sleep walking/moving/talking.

I woke up all on my own though, and I was so hungry I had to drag myself out of bed immediately.

I'm always starving when I wake up, so it's routine for me to drink a glass of chocolate milk literally every single day. Literally. For years now it's been my thing.

But this morning (Or should I say, morning for ME), I did something different. CHANGE, right?

Last night we went to the store and bought me some quick foods to encourage me eating more, because my usual is to eat once a day, and obviously that's not a good thing.

So I made myself a bowl of Strawberry Yogurt with chopped up Strawberries and sprinkled some Granola. It was absolutely beautiful.

Then I took like an hour long shower, as usual, and had to ignore the urge to scrub the top edge of the glass for dust or organize the Lotions and Perfume by height and color. It was very hard.

I washed my face with this fancy stuff that makes me want to pet my skin all day, put on my robe, fixed my hair then got dressed.

Today my family was tidying up the Kitchen and such so I did the chores (Boring, I know), and then I snacked on some Yogurt covered Raisins and tried the Chocolate flavor of my health drink and pet my cat as an excuse not to finish cleaning.

I watched some Twilight Zone with dinner while it stormed outside, and started painting on one of my plain shirts and set it out to dry.

And now I am writing this, listening to music, eating chocolate covered Raisins and all that's left to me to do is take my medicine and vitamins and clean my face, brush my teeth, and head to bed!

This doesn't seem very exciting, I know. But it is.

My day was completely different than usual. It felt brighter, somehow, or perhaps that was just my vision.

I got to light candles and listen to the thunder and eat foods that made me feel fancy and pet my animals and listen to good music.

I have a white glow around this day, and though it is a little dim, it's still a glow anyway.

I don't know what tomorrow will be like, but it's up to me if it's good, of course, and I hope I'll be able to put in the effort I did today!

Thanks for reading!

List of Goals:

Hello there!

I've decided to make a little list of simple, perhaps logically meaningless goals for the present future, but they are meaningful to me.

Due to my depression, I have been sleeping more than I would like, while also feeling incredibly tired during the day.

I haven't been eating very much.

I haven't been doing much of anything, really, being unable to find the determination to do them, so maybe this will help!

So on with the list!:

  • I would like to start getting up earlier. Now, I've never been an early bird--night owl all the way! For all my life it's been this way, so when I say early I don't mean anything crazy. I got into a habit, that has of course since crashed and burned, of waking up at nine. It was a start, and I found I really loved the quiet of the morning when I could write or listen to music. I'd really enjoy trying that again.

  • I would like to start exercising. Because of my Heart Condition, I can't go for runs or do any ridiculously tiring exercises as I originally would have liked, though I can start doing Yoga and going on walks and one day perhaps build up to that. So I need to start building!

  • I would like to start learning French. This has been a dream of mine for a very long time, and I started the first lesson a long time ago only to have it pushed to the back when life got incredibly busy. No more! I'd really love to get started on it!

  • I would like to start looking better. And by this I mean I've been wearing really lazy clothes, even out in public, and I've not even bothered to brush my hair half the time. So I'd like to start wearing more of my dresses, actually doing something with my hair.

  • I would like to start taking better care of myself. This is one of the things the Doctor told me to do, and it's been hard for me. I realized that it was hard to list off things I liked about myself, and that I was not gentle with myself. I am not careful when I'm brushing my hair or washing my face or brushing my teeth, I am actually quite the opposite. I don't take the time to treat myself correctly. I also would like to start eating healthier, such as fruits and vegetables, because I like them just fine, I just don't eat them. 

  • I would like to start doing more of what I love. Yesterday I painted for the first time in quite a long time. Granted, I only used my fingers, but I listened to a song that reminded me of a sunset, and sure enough that's what appeared in front of me. I didn't actually know what I was painting--I just saw pinks and reds and oranges and I was so happy that I actually could imagine it in my head. It's been some time since I've been able to do that. So I would like to continue painting, sketching, writing. I have this new idea for a story, but haven't started it yet because I'm still brainstorming. Perhaps I'm just procrastinating?

  • I would really like to Pray more often. I do Pray, but of course this has been a trying time in my life and it was very difficult at times, and still is. Not that I am angry at God, or I am stubborn--it just seems to slip my mind, and I absolutely hate it. So I'd like to start reading my Bible more, Praying more, ect.

  •  I would like to embrace life more. Clearly, I haven't been doing that, nor had the will to do that. But I would like to. I have a wonderful life with wonderful opportunities and experiences yet to be had, and I would like to be brave and excited through it all. I don't know at all what my future holds, but it's up to me how I handle it!

  • I would really like to love myself more. I don't often. Sometimes I numbly think my hair looks pretty, or my eyes, or those freckles on my hands. But often I forget who I am, what I look like, how I am special. Anyone can write or paint or draw, right? 
True, but no one can possibly do it how I can.

Besides, no one can think how I think, imagine what I imagine, or act how I act. No one can be me, so why shouldn't I?

Maybe I wish I wasn't so thin and maybe I wish my nose wasn't as round as it is and maybe I wish my teeth weren't quite so crooked. But none of this matters if my soul shines brightly enough.

And it hasn't been, so I've noticed these things. I've obsessed over these stupid, meaningless things like they were actually important to anyone. It was just me--just me focusing on the bad, unable to see the point of it all, of myself.

But the point of me is simply me. There doesn't have to be anything more. Nothing more important or meaningful.

And that's all it takes for me to love myself, take care of myself, live my life like everything is beautiful, everything is something to laugh with and smile at. Because, geez, it is. It's wonderful.

There is bad and there are terrible things and I am not flawless, but choosing to concentrate on the good is a choice and it's a choice I am going to make.

I am not perfect, but I am perfectly made by God, so nothing else matters.

Thank you for reading, and thank you everyone who has been so kind and caring towards me--you don't understand how much it means. I am grateful for you all. 

Day at the Fair

Just as the title implies: yesterday I spent my evening at the Fair, and it was quite an adventure.

I went with my family--meaning my mom, sister, brother, his girlfriend, and both of my grandparents--but ended up finding a group of my lovely friends and exploring with them for a time.

Really the only reason I went was to take pictures.

The last thing I wanted to do was to get out into a huge crowd of people, surrounded by ridiculously loud noises and movements and lights and total chaos and basically the thought was nightmarish to my Asperger's brain.

And indeed it was tough--I didn't ride any rides besides the Ferris Wheel, and that was only to take pictures of all the lights at night from above. You see, I'm also afraid of heights. Extremely so.

I am glad I went, though. It was fun to wander around with my friends, taking pictures of them and I did get a lot of good photographs, I think. If you want to check them out, you may do so at my DeviantArt HERE.

I did get a ton of attention because of my newly dyed hair, including people screaming and shouting to me from across the grounds, and even some people wanting to touch it.

I won a few Ribbons for the Art I
submitted in the Fair!
No, humans of the Earth. It is not a wig. It was not "professionally done" . Basically I wanted a change and my mom spent nearly six hours to get it to look like this.

I don't mind people liking it, obviously. It was just surprising to me to have to talk and interact with so many strangers. Yeah, I know. I sound like such a sheltered little Homeschooler.

But Homeschooling has nothing to do with it. My personality wanted to hide underneath a table and hiss if anyone got too close, but of course that's not socially acceptable, so I had to smile and not flee the scene.

It was all very overwhelming and disorienting and I had to take deep breaths many times, but I made it through the day in one piece, and I'm glad that I did go.

I felt as if I overcame something, though I'm not quite sure what.

I absolutely fell in love with this
little guy! He was the sweetest thing!
I was afraid to go. I've felt like a fragile bit of glass that could break at any minute, so the thought of being around people, having to smile and not promptly lay down and cry was a terrifying one, but I went anyway, and there were no huge episodes.

I kept myself calm, as if I were two people. One part of me was like: "People! Bright lights! Loud noises! I just want to go home! I just want to fall apart!"

But then there was that little shred of the sensible part of me, and I'm not sure how it's still intact, but that was the part that comforted my other half. That said: "It's okay, just a few more hours. Look, the bright lights can be pretty, if you look at them like this. And the loud noises start and stop! The people aren't here to make you uncomfortable. Hold yourself together just a little bit longer!"

And sure enough I did, and I actually enjoyed myself sometimes. I couldn't eat much of anything, sadly, even though the food is one of the greatest things about the Fair. My stomach has been pathetic ever since I started taking that medicine.

I can go an entire day without eating anything, my stomach just numb, no food sounding remotely good at all.

And then that night I will literally eat anything that is around me. I ate two entire chocolate bars and a huge bowl of pasta and it was amazing. I've sort of learned to eat as much as I can when I actually CAN eat, because chances are I won't be able to get myself to eat anything for the rest of the night.

And a quick update on something: whereas last week I was taking half a pill, we've just recently started the whole thing. This means that things are still out of whack, but should hopefully be evening out soon?

I'm not sure. I dunno. Depression sucks, basically.

But, something good that's coming out of the medicine--it's actually sort of doing what it's supposed to be doing!

I've recently gotten a new idea for a story, and the idea of it is actually very exciting to me. I haven't been able to plan much for it, because I haven't been able to sit still and concentrate on one thing for very long, but I have drawn a few sketches of the characters and came up with a basic plot-line.

This may not seem like something special, but considering I went from the girl who created constantly in her mind to the girl who couldn't find motivation to create a single thing, this is something great.

I still haven't been able to read a lot--I've started at least three books and had to set them all down again after a few chapters because I just can't make myself pick them up again.

I've wanted to paint again, and this is rare. My mom bought me a few new canvases and I just haven't found the time to sit down and make something yet, but it's definitively at the top of my list.

I've also been listening to a ridiculous amount of music. I've just created the playlist for this new story filled with my favorite songs, and it ended up being 7 hours long. As you can imagine, I've put it on Shuffle and let it play on repeat more times than I can count.

Music is really something that's helped me. Not in the sense that I relate to songs whose lyrics have inspired me and helped me through hard times, though that has happened sometimes.

I mean that when I'm trying not to think, music is my go-to thing. It fills my head with something other than my own thoughts that have a tendency to stray to places they shouldn't. I hum sometimes if I don't have access to my music and think the lyrics in my head to give me words to focus on that aren't my own.

Safe to say, I've gotten a lot better, but I go back and forth within hours at least ten times. There is no: 'Today was a good day!' or 'Today was a bad day!'

I can go from great to horrible in a matter of seconds, or I can be feeling great for half the day. I'm doing my best to keep it all in the good, but it sways every now and then.

I've wanted to write on here many different times about many different things, so I'll hopefully be getting the determination to write those other posts, but for now:

Thanks for reading!


So, I've been sick.

But this isn't the kind of illness that causes me to cough and sneeze. My hair isn't unbrushed. I'm not shivering from a cold.

I've been mentally ill, which actually sounds like I should be a character in some crazy YA novel, and indeed I feel like I could be.

I've been on my own little roller coaster these last few weeks, but it's not the adventure I would have preferred. It's been dark and scary and something I wouldn't wish on anybody, and wished I didn't have to be at this place, myself.

Now, before I go on further: I understand that talking about these sorts of things is not something a lot of people do, and you might not understand why I am.

Sure, talking about these personal and secret things may open me up to bullying, teasing, and perhaps cause people to look at me a certain way, but I don't care.

These are not things that are accepted and spoken of in today's society easily, and that's stupid, because I've been lucky enough to be surrounded by wise people to explain things to me, but most people don't, and are taught that speaking of tough matters is a crime.

That's idiotic, so I'm going to share my experiences in hope that it might help someone else, because staying silent and unnecessarily secretive about these things isn't going to do much of anything at all.

Alright, now that that's through:

I do indeed suffer from depression, and indeed 'suffering' is the right term for it.

It started a month or so ago, and it was simply a deep painful sadness. I was probably depressed then, too, but it had a cause so there's really nothing I could have done for it besides wait it out.

Though it started from a specific trauma, it has been one thing after another and it's spiraled out of control and  since then I've been somewhere I never even knew existed for me.

Depression runs in my family, so I really can't say I'm surprised, but I always thought I'd be strong enough to handle it, you know? I think we all do. We think "if it were me, I would handle it differently."

But in these crucial, life-changing moments, you seem to forget all the promises you make yourself.

So, I never understood why people would cut themselves. I didn't judge people who did, but I simply was confused by it. I figure it was to get attention? To distract themselves? And I was sort of right about the second one.

But it happened one night, in one second, and the next morning I couldn't remember if it was a nightmare or not. I suppose it was a nightmare, anyway, even if I wasn't asleep.

I assure you, it wasn't something I could wrap my mind around, let alone do myself.

But that's just the thing--it didn't have to make sense.

I'm sure everyone's reasons are different, but for me it was almost like an instinct.

It was like an out of body experience--as if I were watching myself, detached, numb. I didn't care about what I was doing or what would happen afterwards. In that moment I could not sit still unless I acted, rash or not.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am logical. Painfully so. I like to get lost in dreams and stories, but when it comes to life and situations and problems, I am almost robotically realistic about things.

So I was more shocked than anyone when this occurred.

Though, once I did it, I really had to look back at my past to figure out why this would ever became an option, whether I was in my right mind while doing it or not. And it did make some sense.

I remember many times when I was really angry when I was little when I would pull at my hair or hit myself, and maybe this isn't so rare for young children, but I remember it hurting. A lot. And I didn't care, because I was angry.

I told my Mom and family the next day.

This may be surprising for some people, too. When kids do this the typical thing is for them to be silent and brooding--maybe try to handle it themselves, be ashamed or silent about it, and that's when it gets really bad.

But, considering depression runs seriously in my family, my Mom always talked about it very openly and told us that it was something to tell her about and not hide away, no matter how hard it is to say.

And it was incredibly hard to talk about, but I'm still glad I did.

It was good to have support--to not be alone in it, though I can't say that I didn't feel lonely some of the time.

It was better to have someone holding me accountable, in a way--someone to ask "Have you done it again?", and someone that I could say "No," to.

I stopped cutting and when I did get the urge to do it each time I marked myself with a red marker instead of hurting myself. I'd read it online somewhere and honestly never thought much more about it, because at the time I thought I would never be in the situation of needing it, but it really helped when I got that desperate. It might sound stupid, but it's honestly not something that can be explained.

And then it got worse.

I can't exactly say what changed, but it turned into the thought process of "If killing myself didn't go against my beliefs, I would have done it already."

Now this seems like a huge jump from hurting myself just because I was angry or sad to wishing the whole entire world away. Not everyone who cuts themselves is suicidal, believe it or not.

But my reasons aren't: "The world would be better off without me! I don't make a difference! I don't matter!".

I understand that I matter and I understand that I am important to some people. But none of this matters in the least bit when I'm in one of those moods and get to thinking a lot. Nothing at all matters, to be honest.

My reasons aren't "The world doesn't want me", it's "I don't want the world."

Because of my Aspergers, I've always seen the world differently. I see all of the good vividly and sunrises in bright colors and dust floating through the air turns into something beautiful to me and raindrops are like sunshine. But I also see the bad vividly, and of course this is a time when it seems the bad often wins out.

Recently all I see is bad, and all I want is to get away. In these times, it's easy to believe that peace can only come with death. It's simple, you see--living is hard, so stop doing it. All I want is to be rid of my thoughts and what's happening inside my mind, and the scariest part is that this is all something inside of me.

There is no physical evidence of what I'm going through--yes, scars that no one can see, but that's not what I am referring to--there are no wounds from an accident or current events that I can point to and say "this is the cause".

It's literally in my head, and I could think of nothing more fitting for the girl who can't stop thinking.

I stopped marking myself with a red marker when I got the urge to cut myself because if I still did it I would be covered in the marks from head to toe--it was all the time, a constant lingering, and I asked my family to not let me be alone for longer than 10-20 minutes, because if I did I would get to thinking, and that's a very dangerous thing for me right now.

So, obviously, this line of thought is highly alarming and threatening, so Mom called a doctor the next day.

I went and it was really hard, again, to talk about something that was so close to me. Actually I felt absolutely insane. I explained that at first my mood made sense: I would think of some things that had happened and get sad, but they had reasons. I understood this.

But then I explained that something changed. I would watch people walk along the sidewalks and try not to cry. I would stand in the middle of one of the Birthday parties my family hosts at our store, and tell myself to hold it together. To breathe deeply.

Basically, the tiniest, most innocent little things just made me so sad, and I had no idea why.

So two days ago, I was prescribed some medicine to take once a day that should help.

My mom and the doctor discussed this option thoroughly because, of course, it's very dangerous for younger people to be on such serious pills, but it's starting out at an incredibly low dose because of my size, and I'm grateful it's not a huge risk.

Though the medicine does have a few side effects: the actual good part should start after this week or so hopefully, but for now I'm left with a slew of ridiculous things to put up with.

Like tiredness. Oh my GOODNESS, I am so sleepy all the time. It's like the kind of tired when you are trying to stay up all night, and at five in the morning your eyes are literally dropping shut without your permission. It's like that, except all the time. And I'm already a tired person, naturally, so this is just insane.

Also, I've never sleep walked or sleep talked or anything, so last night when I sat up, took a drink of water, laid back down, and woke up, I was officially freaked out. It must be the most disorienting thing I've ever experienced, because I was only watching myself, still basically asleep, as my body moved on its own, and couldn't actually move on my own until I'd laid down again.

There is also a side-effect of suicidal thoughts, much like I've already experienced, so I am under "contract" to tell my mom anytime I find myself going out of my mind like that.

Nothing too serious has happened, thankfully, though I can't say there's been a lot of time for it. I am basically under 24/7 supervision by my family--not because they don't trust me, but because this medicine is doing crazy things to my already twisted brain, and I already know what it feels like to act without fully being there. I'm thankful for this. I can't say I trust my brain, myself.

I've been constantly keeping busy, as I've been told to do--literally I am not allowing myself to sit still and silent for longer than ten minutes. I need to be doing something. Be distracted by something.

But that's just the problem. It's so hard for me to focus on anything. It's hard for me to say stuff properly sometimes and It's impossible for me to read, write, draw... I'm so numb to everything.

At night right before I go to sleep is the worse, which is why I've been watching "My Little Pony" until I literally can't keep my eyes open.

As I said: thinking is dangerous for me, so I am avoiding it at all costs.

Some times are better than others. Sometimes I feel fine--or, close to fine. Something is off, but I'm still able to laugh and such, but then a second later I'll be incredibly fragile, as if I'll fall apart if you speak too loudly. It's a fine line but I think I'm doing good at walking it so far.

The doctor also told me to point out at least ten things that I like about myself everyday, no matter how small, because my self-esteem is like so low it's practically at the center of the world.

I'm supposed to start exercising--anything to get my up and moving. I have to drink these really thick smoothie things to keep me healthy, at least one a day, and I've started filling out this Depression workbook that the Therapist suggested, and it's helped to write out a plan for if I feel the urge to hurt myself.

So that's what I've been doing--keeping busy, though I don't feel like it. Doing simple things that make me happy like watching Teen Wolf, Shugo Chara, listening to Steam Powered Giraffe, playing Kingdom Hearts 2 (except I sobbed when I finished it last week because MY BABIES!), and trying my best to keep a positive spirit.

Today is my fourth day on the medicine, and I'll be sure to keep this blog up-to-date with my process.

So keep me in your thoughts and prayers, because, clearly, I've been more than a little messed up, and I'm just doing my best to get through!

Thanks for reading! (And I'm sorry this post is so long!)

Small Problems are Still Problems

Have you ever heard the quote "Someone's got it worse than you"?

You see, I think this saying is supposed to make me feel better about my own life.  To think "Eh, things are not as bad as they could be."

And indeed I know they can be worse, and maybe that makes it some-what better.  But that doesn't mean that things still aren't bad.

I understand in stepping back and getting a bit of perspective on your own life.  Sure, maybe something horribly tragic happened,  but at least you have some good still left, right? Maybe you're completely stressed out or anxious or upset, but someone out there has it rougher. I agree that things can always get worse,  but that doesn't mean I believe in the quote stated above.

If a someone is talking to you about their lifes troubles: if they just lost someone,  if they suffer from depression, if they open up to you in any way at all about their dark feelings, it is in no way okay to tell them:

"Straighten up.  Someone's got it way worse than you,  so stop pitying yourself."

Oh my goodness.

Please don't do this.

Sure someone has it way worse than you, and they should be in our Prayers daily,  but that doesn't mean your own problems and struggles and trials aren't just as real and important as theirs. 

We all suffer and we all feel like it's impossible to just stand up in the mornings sometimes, but because our problems aren't GROUND BREAKING CALL THE NEWS problems,  does not mean that they do not matter.

This does not mean that YOU do not matter.

Sometimes I tell myself to get a grip: 

"Why are you still crying?  Why do you still feel this way? Why are you still so upset when there are people out there witnessing death and destruction and perhaps fighting not to die themselves?"

And that works, to a degree. But sadness is selfish, and even if the whole world is ending it still finds the time to remind me of my little troubles in my little world.

I Pray for others everyday--for the people who are fighting for themselves, whether their enemy is big or small, because we all matter and maybe this problem won't kill you, but at the time it sure feels like it will, doesn't it?

It seems like if you aren't about to kill yourself, or about to kill someone else, no one cares.  As long as you aren't pushed that far to the edge, you should be fine, right?  You can get over it on your own.

But this isn't true and it's stupid to think it is.  

Speaking from my personal experience, handling it on your own is the hardest thing to do.  Thankfully I have wonderful people on my life who are supportive and caring towards me,  but I know that I'm lucky when it comes to this.  I know that most people don't, and that breaks my heart.

Don't let anyone belittle you and your sadness and your loss or your heartbreak or your trauma. 

I believe in understanding.  That's it.  I believe in listening to others and even if a struggle seems petty and useless, know that it's not. 

Like depression, for example.  Many people misunderstand it. 

You don't have to be on medicine or in therapy to be depressed.  To be 'Clinically Depressed' you do, but that's not the only form of depression.

But people think:

 "Are you tempted to kill yourself?  Have you stopped eating? No?  Then you can handle handle this.  You're fine."

No, because depression doesn't have to be so bad as to take you're own life for it to be real.

I am depressed,  for reference. I have no doubt about it.  It's better some days and worse others,  but more on that in a later post.

Take your own problems and other people's problems seriously, please, because they all are, yes, serious, big or small.

Ugh, just 'share the love', you know? 

Would you want to be ignored? Would you want to be shut down or not taken honestly and openly?


Okay then, get a grip and help out others, because that's literally one of the things you where put on this earth to do.

Thanks and have a great day.