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WHY AM I SO MISERABLE. i mean i know the answer is āmajor depressionā but thatās a boring answer, canāt we mix it up a little
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Dodieās Autumn wardrobe
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Report: White Man in Local College Class Will Not Shut the Fuck Up
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just my personal opinionā¦ā¦
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The Depression Diaries: Day 5
Am I about to cry to an instrumental piece? Wait, thereās lyrics now. Hopefully theyāre not as sad. āHow rare and beautiful it is to even existā whoops okay theyāre great too.
Anyway, my Depression.
The task today was to go to the job centre. And mum didnāt even give me the money to get a baguette. How rude. I wore my favourite socks, as if that would help me get through the day somehow.
(Not my lucky socks, theyāre different)
It was difficult, but it always is to do things like that. Iāve got a job interview coming up, maybe two if I get my act together and phone the damn guy. Everything is happeneing all at once and Iām getting overwhelmed. Iām keeping that typo. Itās furthers my point.
Iām not feeling any better, but Iām not feeling any worse. I guess stagnating is something. I kinda hope the work I get is part time, whatever it is that I do.
My head hurts and Iām kind of enjoying the other thing Iām writing, so I wonāt go to introspective on this one.
Thought to sum up the day: Getting a Quilava in a raid was the most exciting thing to happen to me today and I had takeaway
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i hate white men who say theyāre āplaying devilās advocateā. iām like: the devil already has lots of advocates, and they all look like you, and this isnāt a fun game.
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The Depression Diaries: Day 4
Todayās challenge was just to go to the musical theatre thing with Mum and Josie. Which meant that I didnāt have to go outside by myself, so the task wasnāt stressful. I even managed to dress nice. Proper nice. With a clean bra and stuff.
Itās the black one though, which is ITCHY.
I think today was better. I wasnāt better, donāt get me wrong, but I was inherently excited to see Pete. I donāt get to see my family as often as Iād like, and Iām looking forward to Christmas. Because I see James even less, and heās hopefully done a fair amount of growing up.
I hope Iām better by Christmas. Because at the moment Iām not really excited for Halloween, which I should be. Thereās a coffin on my table.
Iām trying to get used to saying depression. Not just āfeeling weirdā or something like that. Itās a chemical imbalance. And going outside doesnāt seem to be doing much for it. At least not yet, maybe it will! Only thing itās doing at the moment is getting me some fresh air and meaning that I donāt spend time in my own thoughts so much.
I think thatās really all for the depressiony thoughts today. Iām really tired, and I think my thing at the job centre wonāt go well. I hope I still get the money though, Iāve got Christmas presents to buy.
A thought to sum up the day: To the core exhaustion
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The Depression Diaries: Day 3
I donāt know if thereās much to say for today. I slept in like I always do these days and applied for jobs. I didnāt eat lunch because I wasnāt hungry.
I had to meet mum at work, that was todayās task. It was arguably the most stressful. I think a lot of that came down to the fact I left myself hardly any time to actually get dressed. I brushed my hair too quickly and it hurt, which is saying something considering it was kinda greasy.
Didnāt change my underwear, which I understand is logically gross and I shouldnāt post this fact to the internet, but itās documenting my experience.
It was really hard. Itās a very familiar route, but the walk to the church on a Wednesday apparently reminded me of anxiety group. It brought back sicky feelings. And on top of that, I had to wait in the entrance and nod and smile politely at people in pink shirts who I should definitely remember the names of but donāt.
I was fine once Mum appeared. Itās the being outside on my own that makes me really uncomfortable. I donāt necessarily like being out and about in general. I donāt mind the car, but being too far away from home is scary.
Iām kind of dreading going to Southampton with Mum. Thatās miles away.
Iām still not feeling things though, not properly. The only time I seem to be able to process emotions is when Iām awake at stupid times and exhausted.
Both lots of the soaps I watched today should have made me feel things. But I didnāt.
To top this entire crap fest off, I think my charger is broken. Phone, that is. I know that my laptop one is.
Thought to sum up the day: Anyone wanna buy me a phone charger?
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Waving Through A Window by Ben Platt
āCan anybody see? Is anybody waving back at me?ā
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The Depression Diaries: Day 2
Iād already forgotten about doing this, but I have another forty ish minutes, and thereās nothing to say that this even has to go up on the day. This is for me. Why am I holding myself to this?
Because Iām like that, always have been, always will be.
Todayās task was to go to Havant and buy noodles. I still felt sick being away from the house, and once again, I looked like I was on drugs, but I got a return so I couldnāt just get off, find a North bound, and go home. The chatty old man was at the bus stop, the one who goes to Cosham and sits in the seat by the emergency exit. I hid on the other side, because talking to people is more stressful than just being near them.
Got on the bus, fidgeted anxiously to myself and listened to music. Got off at Havant and presumably looked a lot like I was on drugs, but now in a new location.(!)
Got a baguette. At least that wasnāt too stressful. The lady in there knows what I get so I donāt have to ask. Itās more familiar territory.
Then I walked all the way to tesco. Nauseating. And more importantly, just kind of difficult. They need to put a zebra crossing there because I have this constant fear of getting it a bit wrong and being flattened.
Couldnāt find a basket in tesco, which was unbelievably stressful. There should be some by the travellators. Why wasnāt there any? I had to grab one by a, oh whatās the word Iāve forgotten the word, till. Till is the word I am looking for.
Spent about ten minutes anxiously pacing the same few aisles trying to figure out where the noodles are. I hate tesco, itās unfamiliar. I know where the noodles are in Asda.
Found noodles, spent another ten minutes finding milk.
The lady wasnāt too chatty, and thankfully I didnāt end up getting served by someone I know. (Jai Bailey works in tesco now?) and then instead of looking at Halloween stuff, I went home.
You know when you can feel people looking at you? People were looking at me. Like they knew something was wrong.
When I got in I went to sleep and I honestly donāt think Iām going to be up for going out again tomorrow.
What Iād underestimated, when agreeing to this plan, is exactly how much energy it takes to do things. I havenāt brushed my teeth in a few days. Gross, right? I was just in the bathroom too. But the thought of getting up and going to do that is so exhausting in itself, that I canāt find it within myself to do it.
That being said, my teeth hurt. I should probably do it after this. It might stop me eating.
So far Iāve found that the only time Iām not actively very Depressed is when Iām singing. And sometimes thatās not the case.
(See: me listening to When by dodie at 1 am.)
But when I get to musical theatre it up with my family or singing in the car itās a welcome distraction. Thereās just no way for me to do that constantly, not without pissing people off anyway.
My feet hurt, Iāve not really been on them this much for a while. I go shopping with my Mum but thatās not the same, Iām with her then. I have a safety net.
Iām trying to get back to my old safety net, but thatās not working out too well at the moment.
Thought to sum up the day? Everything hurts.
lŻ/?ļæ½
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The Depression Diaries: Day 1
An Introduction
So, what is the depression diaries?
A (not especially well-written) way for me to keep a journal of how Iām feeling during Mumās plan to undepressify me.
And that plan is? I have to get dressed, brush my hair and go outside every single day. Because I was starting to look, and quite frankly smell, a little bit depressed.
So. Todayās plan was for me to go to the One Stop and check my mumās balance. Meant getting dressed but not necessarily looking nice because Iāve been further in my pyjamas.
I had no idea how hard it was going to be, not really. I was even looking for jobs instead of getting dressed. I brushed my hair and dawdled for an hour. I put on pants, socks and a jumper and then lied down and did nothing. Itās not until I had to function as a member of society that I realised just how exhausting being a person is.
I got all the way past Yoās house before I realised exactly how nauseous I felt. I was certainly anxious, and to be honest it was nice to feel something again, but it kicked in there. I was too far. I almost ran back, I almost cried.
I carried on, I was listening to Waving Through a Window which felt, well, oddly accurate.
Inside the One Stop itself I was also immensely uncomfortable but there wasnāt anything I could do in there. I couldnāt just leave. So I checked the balance, and my own, and there was apparently money in there.
(Thank you, Money Fairy)
I got chocolate buttons and walked up to the counter. Oh my God. Strangers. Itās the dude with the long hair, he like good music and has served me over a hundred times. He probably thinks Iām on some hard drugs, or the low functioning end of a something. I looked unwell, physically and mentally. I could tell.
Almost cried on the way back. I suppose it didnāt help that the red sun was making it look a bit apocalypsey outside.
Yes, Microsoft Word. I meant apocalypsey.
Honestly, Iām dreading tomorrow. This was the first time Iāve been out by myself for near enough three weeks and it was so hard.
I donāt think Iāll make it to Havant.
A thought to sum up the experience: Vomit-Inducing
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āiām a writerā i say as i sit here and donāt write.
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Quilava without the fire is just a long teal eggplant
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ē«é¼ ććć¼ | ććć¤ć [pixiv]
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