I feel almost as if this is going to become the “That girl who’s depressed” blog if I keep on this way–and that’s something I did before on Diaryland, thankyouverymuch. I met a lot of friends that way–but I also found a lot of pain when someone was annoyed with me and posted my blog link on a forum where I did NOT want it, in a way that was very unflattering. (IE, why doesn’t she just kill herself already? type suggestions) Not to mention that while I had a knack for teenage poetry, it probably wasn’t terribly interesting to read in the long-term.
But most people start a blog to tell their story; for cheap therapy; to get out all of the crap inside of themselves and put it somewhere that it might reach other people. Or not. For better or worse, this space, right now, is my diary–and very few people probably want to read someone else’s diary when they spend time navel-gazing on their anxiety and depression.
I’ve spent a lot of time NOT posting because of this. Because who wants to read my crappy diatribes on what it’s like to feel sad all the time? I work one day a week and haven’t had other prospects. I spend a lot of time arguing with companies to try to get them to do what I need them to do so we can buy a house. I spend a lot of time staring at my dog, or the walls, or my computer.
I have to get the crap out of my head somehow, though, and focus on the things I’m thankful for: LAboy, my dog, my family, my life. My health, my dreams, my writing (when I can), and all of the wonderful people, places and things that I’ve experienced. If I don’t spend time spinning out the darkness, how can I ever see the light?
So the two or three of you that trickle over from Twitter or Band Back Together will have to bear with me, I hope. The only way out of depression is through, and I’m eventually going to kick some ass. I’ll do a lot of whining in the process, but things are looking up. One of the very best things that anyone has ever said about me–one of the few compliments I’ve grudgingly admitted is true–was from LAboy. He said “No matter what, you don’t stop.” And that’s true. I get depressed. I get knocked down. Things happen that I can’t control and I panic and freak out and wring my hands and cry that I CAN’T DO THIS!
But one thing about me that I will never let go of, one thing that I’m proud of: I just don’t know how to give the hell up and walk away from something once I’ve started. I don’t stop. And I’m sure as hell not going to now.