So, I've been thinking a lot lately... and it's amazing, when I look back at where I was a couple of years ago compared to where I am now. Well, not where... who really. I've never really blogged about this I don't think, but I'm in the mood to just reflect on some things, and what the heck, I don't think too many people read this anyway... and if you do, I guess you'll just have some insight to what I've been through and whatnot.
Back in high school I used to be your class A overachiever. I worked two jobs, got nearly perfect grades, and was in more extracurricular activities than I can even remember. Life was good(ish). I was a shy kid growing up really, and I've opened up a lot, though it can still take me awhile. As time went on, I continued to be a perfectionist. Sadly enough though looking back it wasn't for my own good, I was doing it to please others... being who those around me wanted me to be. I mean, I was still myself, just hid certain parts of me and put a facade on for the world to look at.
The first year of college was amazing. I'd say it was probably one of the most life changing times of my life, though that would continue until now... I got to college, and I stopped caring (so much) what people think and I started to open up, to really be me... and I've met some great friends and had some great times along the way. That spring I got mono, and everything just kind of went downhill for me from there. Ever since then, I've had struggles with my health (though I'm doing pretty great now).
After the mono, depression started to creep up on me and I became yet again a totally different person. The things that used to make me happy stopped doing so, and I sort of became an empty shell. So I searched for things to fill that shell. Some of them were great, some of them were not so good. Basically I began to settle, so to speak, for things that otherwise would not have made me fully happy, but because they eased the pain of hating the world and life a little bit, really helped me through that time of my life. So, things seemed to be going pretty good. All of this time I still did not realize what was going on within myself. Then the depression came crashing down on me like a brick. I stopped working, stopped going to school. Mostly I layed around in bed all day thinking about how miserable and hopeless life was. I tried to maintain a social life, thinking that maybe it would make things better... and finally one day I woke up and realized that if I didn't get help, and soon, that I might go against all things I believe in and end it all. So I went to the Dr, where my problems went from being mono (again), to chronic fatigue syndrome, to anemia, to finally... depression. Then came the Prozac, or as I like to call it... the worst thing to ever happen to me. Prozac made me suicidal... I never attempted, but there wasn't one day where I didn't think about it. All the while I tried to mind-over-matter myself into thinking it was working for me. I read my writings from when I was on Prozac and get confused, I hardly remember that month or so in my life at ALL. I was numb, yet my thoughts spun wildly in my head to the point of eluding me. Basically it was like going completely crazy. After about a month or month and a half (I think, don't remember) I called the Psychiatrist, who UPPED my dosage, and I think I took it for another month... before calling and DEMANDING a switch to something else. They put me on Effexor. The transition was worse than anything. Imagine a shock from static, but 10x magnified, and in your brain/head. I dealt with those and several other side effects for a few weeks, still putting on a facade to the world wanting everyone to think I was okay, because I didn't want to trouble others with my troubles. This was a bad idea, as it made me a liar and a fake. I guess I've just always hated the thought of hurting someone. There's a song lyric I once read that said "You could slit my throat and with my last breath I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt". That's me. And to an extent always will be, but I've learned now that I need to first watch out sometimes for #1... because if I don't take care of me, who will? Also, in trying so hard not to hurt people, it can hurt them more in the long run... that's another big thing I've learned. I even lost some friends over the whole thing because I wasn't honest with them about what I was going through. But, at the time I just couldn't be.
Anyway, I moved home for awhile, the Effexor worked wonders... and now here I am, completely unmedicated, and feeling, for the most part good. I get a little down sometimes, but not more than anyone else. I can only hope that my depression never returns, though in ways I am thankful to have gone through that hell because it has made me a much stronger person. I am headed back to school in the fall for Graphic Comm. and am making a fresh start for myself. As hard as it can be sometimes, I have promised myself to dive into things, and put myself fully and wholly out there, into this crazy world, as dangerous as that might be. I've been down so low in the past, and I'm ready for my adventure of life. (Ok, yeah that was cheesy. but if you've read this far... pffft. deal with it. : P )
Ok, for some reason it feels so good to put all of that stuff out there. :) Writing is so wonderful. And I apologize if I made no sense anywhere in there (which I'm sure happened.)
You all rock. <3