#21

(Okay, I'm going to do more than just scratch the surface as to who I am.)

For ten long years I've had the grand opportunity to suffer from depression, and today I have the need to talk about it. I should have talked about it over the weekend because it was a bad weekend for me, but when you're depressed, you don't feel like doing crap.

Ten years. You'd think I'd be over it by now. At least I thought so. Shrinks haven't help, so I don't visit them anymore. I'm on medication for depression for the third time in 10 years. The first medication was good old fashion Prozac. That probably worked a little too well. I did things I wouldn't normally do. Wellbutrin was the next med during the beginning of graduate school. And now I'm on Wellbutrin XL. Now I haven't taken these meds during the whole ten years, but some parts of the 10 years. I really hate taking medication. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. But a couple of weeks ago I was sitting on my couch at nighttime, with the lights out thinking, "I can't do this anymore." I wasn't thinking suicide. That thought came and went 10 years ago, but I was thinking that I have to do something. Nothing seemed to work and I thought, well I'll try Wellbutrin again. Fuck. I hate it. At least I'm not taking sleeping pills this time. I don't dread going to sleep like I once did.

Having this for so many years, I pay attention to my good days and bad days. To my highs and lows. I pay attention to what habits are forming, where my thoughts turn to, what actions I want to take, and etc. I compare what I think and do today, to how I use to think and act in the past. It gives me an idea of how well or how bad I am doing. For example... yesterday I was talking on the phone with my best friend (who I just recently discussed my depression issues with) and all I wanted to do was go to a corner in my bedroom and sit there. Just sit. Lights off. Curled up in a ball. Now it's a good thing I was talking with my friend because I couldn't really go to the corner, curl in a ball formation and sit there while talking to her.

I remember the couple of times when I have done just that. I was 18 living at home with my parents, just before entering college. I was sitting on my bed (situated in the corner of my room), and I had this complete urge to take everything down from my walls. Everything. All my posters. And I had plenty of posters. So that's what I did. Took all my posters and pictures off the wall and sank into the corner on my bed. I don't know how long I sat there. Could have been up to an hour. I could sit somewhere and not move for the longest time.

I've come to find out that I write more on serious subjects than others. At least at this point in my life. I don't usually write serious entires in this blog. I've deleted the one truely serious entry I've written in this blog. I think only one person read it. It was an event that I had to voice my pain and anger. Writing about it helped but over time I realized that it didn't need to be in this blog. I've now kept it for myself.

Bare with me for this "season" of my life right now. At least with entries such as this.

Other than that, have a good day.