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haelsage · 2 months

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ALL of IT

Fuck your comments behind my back. I don't actually think I'm all that; I'm not confident at all. Whatever you think you see is my defense mechanism against my own thoughts tearing me down, all day long. I don't need your criticism on top of it. I've had enough in the past and it's something I'm working on overcoming = realizing I'm actually worth something.

Fuck your judgements of me when you have no idea how or why I ended up in this house anyway. If I could have afforded a place that was away from people, I would have stayed where I was. Duh. Fucking DUH! I chose a place (within my budget) with a bigger yard for a reason. You have no business telling me what I should have done if you know nothing about my past. Your shitty assumptions are invalid. And my animals are the reason I'm alive now after what I went through, so re-homing any of them will not be an option, even temporarily.

Fuck your easy solutions, that actually cause other problems, when I have enough just like everyone else. I've been dealing with the "sound" issue for over 20 years; do you really think I haven't thought of headphones? In fact, that was my first defense strategy 25 years ago. I currently have 3 different pairs, and they cost money I don't fucking have. They also make it difficult to have a conversation with my boyfriend or his kids. I can't hear my animals if they're in trouble or need something. That's right, I DON'T LIVE ALONE. And I risk getting an ear infection on hot days because the sweat accumulation causes a breeding ground for bacteria to grow. Yuck. I've got ear plugs too, and again, I can't hear conversations. I've got fancy ones, shitty ones, and some in between. Soft, foamy ones don't block out the sounds I need them to, others hurt after a couple hours. Custom earplugs require an appointment that my insurance only covers so much of + price of actual earplug when it comes in = more money I don't have. So I suffer through with what I've got. I mean, it's SO convenient switching between types of ear protection all day long when I'm home. And I LOVE not being able to have important discussions with my partner. Ear protection doesn't provide limitations AT ALL. I don't want to have to live the rest of my life this way, you know. Not to mention the headaches that wearing constant ear protection causes.

Fuck your "take them off once in a while." If I do that, the anxiety itself sets in and I'm constantly on guard. Which triggers a whole other set of issues that I've gone through extensive therapy to resolve. So I'm stuck in a "pick Your battle" situation, which does not help the small progress I made on other aspects of my "horribleness."

Fuck your white noise. Fans going at all times also runs up my electric bill = more money I don't have. And the loudness at which I have them makes it difficult to have a phone conversation with doctors and staff. Because that fan needs to be next to me at all times, if I can manage not to wear ear protection. So I try to fit this into my lunch break at work, but 30 minutes isn't long enough to accomplish anything when I'm on hold for 20 minutes first, then have to get redirected anyway; because you can't just call the doctor. Such an effective strategy to make the necessary phone calls to keep things rolling.

Fuck your "find a quiet location after work to make those phone calls." I have to get home and let my dog outside. I purposely make my appointments for an hour after I'm done with work, so I have time to let her out. My partner doesn't get home until almost 4pm, so that's almost 12 hours. And I'm not letting anyone else in my house to do this for me. Fuck that.

And fuck the doctors who ignore me until I threaten suicide. Fuck the doctors who keep denying me the help I need because the test results are inconclusive or I "can't handle the noise of an MRI machine." Even though I'll be prepared for it and already know those noises aren't a threat. Or because this problem just isn't debilitating, because I can still go to work.

The fuck it's not. Work is the only place I feel safe from having a panic attack. When I'm home, I'm afraid to do anything. If I can manage to find a spot in my house where outside noises don't reach me, I don't leave that spot. I'm afraid to move away from it in order to clean, do laundry, make dinner, or even take a fucking shower. Because the running water doesn't drown it out either. I've changed my entire routine so that I can shower when there is less going on outside; which causes me to forget other things like feed the dog or pack my lunch, get dinner out for the next day, get the mail, pay a bill on time. The list goes on.

Fuck your "those things just aren't as important then." I've completely changed who I am so that the neighborhood can carry on with their convenience while I sacrifice the majority of my own. My accommodation is causing other stress in my life. Side note for those who have a nice basement: mine is a dirt floor; not a comfortable place to hide for hours at a time. Which would also prevent me from getting necessary tasks done around the house, or heaven forbid, coming upstairs out of my safe zone to eat a damn meal. But thanks for the tip. I'm just stupid little Leah with no real responsibilities or basic needs.

Fuck your "just have the man do it." He has his own health issues that are none of your business. No, I can't just make him do everything. And that's shitty anyway because we're a team: we agree that there's no such thing as one person does everything in this household. We pick up the slack when the other doesn't have enough energy. To have one person pick up all the slack is shitty. Sorry, but neither of us were raised that way.

So Fuck having to leave my house all day long on weekends just to escape. So my home is supposed to just be somewhere I can hopefully sleep? How fucking stupid to be paying this mortgage for just a bed. I have animals to take care of, and a partner that also lives in the house I own, in my name. I still have to wash my clothes and shower. And I'm not hiring someone to mow my lawn and take care of my yard (with money I don't have) while my boyfriend is home doing everything else because I just can't be at home. How fucking stupid?

Fuck having to leave my house after 8 pm, just to get a break from wearing the damn headphones. I wake up at 4:30 am for work. Leaving my house until the outside noise calms down (10pm, hopefully) is the last thing I want to be doing at that time of night. Or taking my dog to the park so she can poop without me having to stand outside my house hoping nothing triggers a panic attack. Take a nap? Didn't I mention that I DO have responsibilities?

Fuck your "I understand" bullshit. No you don't. You have no idea what I'm feeling. As far as my brain is concerned, I'm only trying to defend myself against an assault. The "noise" is not in my ears; it's in the center of my head. When someone is playing music or bouncing a basketball (that one actually causes severe twitching) all I can feel is the thumping. Yes I say feel, because for some dumb reason these sounds actually skip the auditory process. Once the noise is happening, I don't hear it, I only FEEL it. Like someone is kicking the other side of a wall against my forehead, or punching me in the side of my face; except I'm not allowed to tell the person to stop. The sound sends my brain a message that I'm physically being attacked; my instinct is to fight back, which causes a panic attack because I can't.

Fuck the people who keep telling me that this needs to stay hidden. I belong to a support group full of people with similar symptoms and they're also having trouble getting help and finding relief because there hasn't been enough opportunity to research something like this. I've explained my symptoms to an audiologist and multiple therapists and they're all at a loss because no one knows what this is. I can't even get this defined because of the lack of research. If it stays hidden, how do we get more information? How do other people get help? I FINALLY found a doctor who suggested this might be neurological. What a light bulb moment. But again, denial after denial, after denial.

And fuck the therapists who tell me to just keep trying the same strategies that obviously aren't working. Other noises that used to bother me? Mostly taken care of. But not the ones that skip the auditory process and all the filters of it. This is beyond a sound issue; it's a message misfiring issue, and they have no idea how to help me combat it. It's not Misophonia or Tinitus. They can't even find a word for it. But the doctors who might be able to just keep dismissing me. An MRI might show where the misfire is happening but there "isn't enough evidence" that I need one.

Fuck your "stop making excuses." I AM spending money I don't have on these safeguards, strategies, coping methods, therapies, tests, etc. I have the medical debt to prove it, and I don't get breaks. I have looked into programs and what insurance covers is a disgustingly large gray area when I can't get a real diagnosis to get accepted in the first place. All this searching for answers, that no one seems interested in helping me find, piles up a mountain of debt in a hurry, that is quickly becoming unmanageable. So let's add another stressor to the equation. As my budget gets tighter, a smaller place is probably smart, but it might not be big enough for my family, and my neighbors would be theoretically even closer = increasing the intensity of the issues that I'M TRYING TO FIX.

Fuck the US health care system in general. Fuck the insurance companies who don't cover treatments some people need in order to actually live life like others can. Fuck the "not a probable candidate" bullshit. Fuck the doctors who won't let me get an MRI just to make sure it's not neurological. I had to BEG the ENT for even a CT scan that came back "Normal, with no masses." No shit fuckers. So now YOU also know it's not a bone structure or fluid issue. Fuck the ones who aren't even trying to help.

So fuck your telling me that I'm not trying hard enough. I'm at my wit's end trying to get help figuring this out. I've had my ears cracked: no pressure to release = no change. I've had numerous doctors tell me they can't find blockage in my ears. Duh. I hear better than most people. Of course that's not the problem. I'm wishing more and more by the hour that I was just deaf, but I'm afraid that will only make me FEEL the noises more intensely. But I'm also so desperate at this point that I don't give a fuck what other problems that might cause. I really don't. I'm already uncomfortable as fuck in my own home.

Fuck your "just relax" comments. I can't do the things that help me relax. I didn't even want to plant a garden this year because I CAN'T GO OUTSIDE. I can't do any yard work because I CAN'T GO OUTSIDE. When I do manage to get outside, I run back in the house after an hour in case something triggers a panic attack. I can't sit and have a quality conversation with my boyfriend with headphones on, or loud fans running. It's constant "huh, what did you say?" until we finally just ignore each other for the evening. I don't want the kids to come over because I don't want them to see me lose control. I'm afraid of having a panic attack. I'M AFRAID TO COME HOME FROM WORK, but I have to let my dog out since she's like, a major priority in my life. I'm afraid to be home alone, but I'm also afraid to keep burdening everyone at my table, and "ignoring them" with my headphones on.

Fuck your metaphors. I don't even have a glass to fill or pour from. I throw stones because I'm sick of carrying them around in my hand all day, all week, all month. I don't have anywhere else to put them. That shit gets heavy. Especially when people tell you to keep hiding it. Did I mention that the therapists are struggling to find ways to help me? Yes, I believe I've alluded to that already.

And fuck your "everyone has problems to deal with." Yes, I'm aware of that. But mine causes me to have even more inconvenience while trying to live as "normal" of a life as possible. Most days days are difficult at best. It's been almost a year since I wasn't terrified to come home from work, just to be alone for 90 minutes. My animals can't exactly stop a panic attack from happening. My boyfriend works evenings occasionally. I've spent many of those on the floor in a ball sobbing, while I'm holding my headphones as close to my ears as possible; because I just can't take anymore sound invasions in my head. Because my hearing is THAT sensitive that sometimes just wearing them doesn't block it out. If that sound hits me, my night is over.

Fuck your "focus on something else." Think of a time when you've physically been beaten or felt any kind of intense pain. Are you able to focus on anything else in that moment? It's pretty difficult to think of anything else when my brain is telling my body that I'm being attacked. FUCK. YOU. It's my body responding to the message from my brain. This is where I'm at in describing these sensations to others. It took me until rather recently to even realize that what I'm actually doing is having a panic attack. I don't even know what I'm saying when this happens because I'm in PANIC mode. My brain is saying "STOP THE ATTACK! STOP THE ATTACK!" over and over. Do you fucking understand that? I'm not being a "stupid bitch." I'm terrified as fuck in these moments.

Fuck your theories. I've seen multiple therapists and they've all confirmed that I don't have schizophrenia or a personality disorder. My partner can hear what I hear, it just doesn't bother him. This may be Hyperacusis, but that can take years to diagnose. It's taken me 15 years to even get to that theory. I keep getting treated for anxiety and depression, which I most definitely have, but it's a band-aid. No one I've talked to can actually figure out what's going, and only a couple are even aware of the concept of Hyperacusis. But it's not their field, so they have no information. I found that theory on my own, and it fits EVERYTHING that I'm experiencing. So I'm on that path to discovering if that's the root of the issue, and if that may actually be causing the depression in the first place. And how did it develop? Why does it come and go. Why is it more intense and sticking around longer this time? But frankly, this has been such a long process as it is, that I'm not sure I have that much time left. I'm almost 40 and still feel like I've gotten nowhere. There's so little research on treatments of this condition because "it has to stay hidden." Bullshit. How do we get information if we're not allowed to talk about the experience. For fuck's sake.

Fuck your "that should have been your priority." To be clear, this issue comes and goes, as I mentioned in the above paragraph. When it's more intense, I seek help in addressing it; if I wasn't I'd have been in a psyche ward long ago. So I have had times when the sensitivity is less invasive. And in those times, I was enjoying actually living a life. This is by far the longest episode I've had, and also the most terrifying one, for me, to date. This thing has "ruined" my life in the past. But this time I built the life I've needed, and it's ruining this one, too. Instead of living it, I find myself glued to a chair, afraid to move around inside my house. Or I sit and cower in fear of going outside my house. If I leave, I wear headphones just to get the 12 feet to my car. Because God forbid I have a panic attack before I get to it. I'm losing desire to keep going when all I can do to survive an evening at home is hide in fear.

Fuck your "stop being so dramatic." You have no idea what kind of trauma I'm going through daily, hourly. The trauma I've worked so hard to over come, but I end up feeling like I took 10 steps backwards every time a severe panic attack happens.

Fuck your "you're just one person." But I AM human, so why aren't my struggles valid? I've spent my entire life putting everyone first, following the whims of others to keep the peace, accommodating to the convenience of others to the point ignoring my own needs. But if I do speak up, it's a potential argument, because heaven forbid stupid little Leah has anything important to say. I'm sick of being shoved back in a box when I don't conform. I'm such a piece of shit that I'm not even allowed opinions, thoughts, ideas, etc.

So fuck you. I'm tired of suffering. I'm tired of being afraid. You have no fucking idea what I'm actually going through here. If you DO know what this feels like, please share how you get through a day without wishing you didn't wake up when you go to sleep at night. PLEASE.

Shall I continue?

Fuck your I don't knows, maybes, somedays, laters, another time, etc. Fuck the pressure you don't realize that puts on me with everything else. Fuck your "it's not bad enough to be complaining." Story of my life; I keep quiet way more than you even realize. Push it down, hide it, your emotions don't matter. Fuck you. I'm human too.

Fuck your "be more social" suggestion. Every time I try that it causes my depression to worsen and I spiral into suicidal thoughts. I'm an introvert who requires extended periods of solitude and downtime to recharge, especially after a workday. If I can't get this regularly, my energy battery dies and I want to die with it. Like I need DAYS to recover from even a couple hours of being social in public.

Fuck anyone who says my man is a terrible father. The shit you talk about is MY fault, not his. It's because of MY issues. And frankly, unless you're the kids' mom, my issues that I have not mentioned here are none of your business. And, at the end of the day, it's MY house. If I'm the wrong person for him, that's up to him to decide, and also none of your business.

Oh, there's more.

Fuck Covid, Fuck the rising prices of everything. Fuck religion. Fuck your wars. Fuck the upcoming election. Fuck the violence. Fuck your disagreements. Fuck your judgements about things you know nothing about. Fuck your attitude. Fuck your lack of compassion. Fuck your insincerity. Fuck your ignorance. Fuck your intelligence. Fuck the gaslighting. Fuck your underhanded criticism. Fuck your lies, fuck your "I told you so."

And fuck anyone at all that stands in my way when I decide to disappear and forge my own life. When my animals are gone....if I even last that long.

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haelsage · 5 months

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Perfect

Source: quietjoyathome.com

ℍ𝐚𝓵ｌ נ𝐀 𝔳คĻǤẸ

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haelsage · 10 months

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I made a komebukuro! I don't have a sewing machine, so I love things I can sew by hand. I roughly followed a tutorial by k3n clothtales on youtube but did the piecing the 'jude hill' way, because that's what I'm used to. I used a 6 loop fingerbraid to make the cords. I am super happy with it, and I'm already onto number 2 :D

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haelsage · 10 months

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Turtle!

New in Shops ~ Protector of the Dead

I love the idea of a keeper of the dead, someone (or something) that ensures they rest easy. This design was originally on my Patreon, and I enjoyed the process of designing and stitching, especially all the curlicues.

https://badstitched.etsy.com/listing/1600510870/protector-of-the-dead-cross-stitch

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haelsage · 1 year

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My Turn To Control My Own Happiness

I am an extremely introverted person, meaning I need excessive amounts of solitude to recharge my energy. When I'm running on empty, I need "alone time" at my own discretion, before I can be social again. With the help of my therapist, I've discovered that this is just fundamentally who I am: an introvert. When I try to "fix it" and be more social for the sake of everyone else's happiness, mine suffers. I spiral into a deep suicidal depression, because I haven't honored my own fundamental need for solitude in between interactions and activities. I'm still alive to tell anyone and everyone that I simply won't do it anymore. I can't let myself get to that brink again.

This is not a cry for help; I don't need to talk about it any more than I am doing in this post. Just, please, let me have the solitude I need to recharge. I'll be in a much better mood once I've been allowed to do that. This IS a request for acceptance of my solitary nature. When I say "No, not today," I'm not trying to be rude or neglect anyone; I'm trying to STOP neglecting myself. Plan something ahead with me, I might agree; give me less than a day's (or week's) notice, I will be saying no. My energy recharges differently than most; and I need much, much more solitude than most.

I'm not sorry to say that anyone who is offended by my method of recharging isn't one of my people after all. I wish you well in your future, but I no longer have room in my life for those who tell, force, or expect me to be different than what I am. So I'll be a disappointment to the extroverts (who get their energy from interactions with other people), oh well. It's time for me to stop disappointing myself.

To those who have pulled me back from that brink, but still respect my boundaries: I thank you from the bottom of my fragile little heart. You are helping me thrive, and I will never be able to adequately express how important you are to me.

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haelsage · 2 years

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3 weeks on the road

Things I learned About Western USA in the last 3 weeks: 1. Iowa - sure does like their windmills. 2. Nebraska - 2nd time driving through; it still sucks. 3. Colorado - is still beautiful once you get southwest of Denver 4. New Mexico - The Navajo are wonderful people and make fantastic Fry-Bread tacos 5. Arizona - Flagstaff is the only place to go any time; otherwise do not go to Sedona (or anywhere in that state) in July unless you want to be overrun with tourists in a furnace explosion. 6. California - You can't piss unless you go to a McDonalds; after you've bought at least a coffee. 7. Oregon - (western only) Looks like Wisconsin in the Cascade mountain valleys: Breweries, creameries, Cranberry marshes, country farms mixed with forests, etc. But the seasonal changes are less extreme; we might be moving there. 8. Washington - Eastern side of state should be called Wash-kota. 9. Montana - Beautiful state: visit Flathead Valley if you can. End of discussion. 10. North Dakota - Fields with a few trees. I-94 can't get any more straight. Great trip, but glad to be home and see my kitties.

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haelsage · 2 years

Video

love this idea

(via Untitled | Nourish Move Create | Flickr)

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haelsage · 3 years

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Archeologists Unearth a Roman Glass Bowl Dating Back 2,000 Years in Pristine Condition

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haelsage · 3 years

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It’s not an on/off switch

“You can go to Walmart; you’re just fine then.” That is a completely false and insensitive assessment. You have no idea how much it pains me to hear that right now. For his sake, it hurts my soul. I’ve done my best to keep quiet and let him sort it out with those who think that. But I can’t keep sitting back, watching people make that judgement. Someone with Parkinson’s can go to Walmart; that doesn’t mean they’re “perfectly fine.”

He does that for himself, to still feel human, and fight the fear of becoming Agoraphobic. It’s an extremely difficult task for him. Even only going to the dog park 2 miles away, is a chore. And it terrifies me to be at work all day; knowing he has to do this for himself, but still running through all the scenarios in my head. I ask him to check in with me periodically so that I know he’s safe.

Please stop thinking that everything is “just fine” because he went to the grocery store. That’s far from the truth. No, he’s not dying; but mental health and neurological issues are no joke, especially undefined ones such as we are dealing with. There are plenty of “invisible” health issues out there, especially depression and most autoimmune disorders = Lupus, Hodgkin’s, Hashimoto’s, etc. I have depression/anxiety and I can go to Walmart - that doesn’t mean I’m “ok.” I’m certainly not, but I am functional. So are many people with illnesses. Your brain is also an organ; it can get “sick,” too.

Many, many of you don’t even know about the different mental issues I’ve had all my life. Because I’m not as willing to go through the continuous rounds of explanation: “No, I’m not really just fine.” progressing into “it’s not as bad as it sounds, but it’s way worse than you think or realize.” I’m not willing to put myself through EVEN MORE stress; so I just don’t talk about it. To everyone else I let it boil down to “I don’t like people, stay away from me.” Because that’s a universal thing everyone seems to understand, and sometimes we can all laugh about it. But in reality, it’s WAY, WAAAYYYYY more complicated than that. My issues aren’t even about people, and I refuse to go into more detail about them.

Because I’m not willing to hear the same things Dustin is hearing now. “It’s just this, or that.” The overconfident arrogance of “I’ll tell you how to fix it.” Or the absolute dreaded “Just get over it.” If it were only that simple, Mental health wouldn’t need a stigma. If you do want more details about my issues, private message me; I MIGHT be willing to talk. But, be prepared to know that I don’t want your solutions or even opinions. It will not be a conversation, but a just-listen-to-me session. That’s how it’s actually supposed to be. Not, “oh, well that’s just..”- nothing. You say nothing. Listen and leave it.

Your intentions might be pure in your own mind, and I appreciate the gestures. I really do. But you can’t keep giving us solutions when WE don’t even have an answer yet. Holding out your hand is fine, great even, but please keep your judgments and assessments silent. Especially if you think “it must be that vaccine.” That’s a bit of insult to our decision to get it. Yes, I am also vaccinated and I’m not having neurological issues. I DO have some of Dustin’s other same current issues; I always have, for my entire life. BEFORE I was vaccinated against Covid-19. When anyone mentions “the vaccine,” all I hear is “It’s your own fault/you fucked up yourself.” Just like you are hearing different words in your head than we are actually saying. If it is the vaccine, it’s already too late isn’t it? So maybe don’t make it sound so horribly stupid, please.

And also, why I don’t believe it’s the vaccine: Dustin has had some of these issues in the past, especially in the last 6 years. Cycles of insomnia, then cycles of cluster headaches mixed with migraines, various levels of anxiety and seasonal depression, random muscle spasms and joint pain. Things many of us go through at some point as we age, but in small doses and not usually all at once. With Dustin, these issues were only one at a time and always went away or balanced themselves out, usually within a month or so. So no, it’s likely not the vaccine.

Also, some of you may remember the trouble Dustin had recovering from Covid-19 itself. Anxiety, coughing every time he tried to speak, trouble staying alert, and pure exhaustion at doing nothing. Many of us who’ve had Covid-19 had similar recovery struggles. That was also BEFORE he was vaccinated against it. “The vaccine” being the answer does not explain that ordeal, and especially not having gone through cycles of these issues in the past anyway.

It’s absolutely frustrating to explain the same things, to the same people, about what’s going on. Which is exactly why I don’t talk about my own issues. I’m exhausted enough already and I don’t have the energy to KEEP-exPlaining-EVery-LIttle-THing all the time. Many of you don’t even know what I deal with for myself every day. I’m doing the best I can to put my own junk aside, so I can be there for Dustin. Because I’ve felt many of the same things; I can help with those. He does have neurological issues that I don’t; we’ll get through those together too. I am here for him too; please remember that. Don’t feel like you have to step in; I am his rock, as he has always been mine.

I hope some of this sticks with you, and you caution yourself next time you try to help with words. And please, don’t say something just because you feel that you’re supposed to; sometimes it’s not actually necessary. We’re not really always looking for words, but maybe just that outstretched hand for now. Just let us get through it; if there’s anything you can do, we’ll let you know. Thanks for reading.

12-04-2021

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haelsage · 3 years

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So beautiful was our love, that when people saw us walking past, we were love and art in person. By Anastasia Trusova on Instagram.

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haelsage · 3 years

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Have Some Compassion, Please

Those of you in denial about mental illness being a real thing; great, I hope you’re living a swell fucking life over there. For the rest of us, “just getting over it” isn’t an option some days. Most of us have jobs, bills to pay, and families to take care of: responsibilities that require us to function in society.

Some days breathing is difficult, even for a moderately physically healthy individual. Getting out of bed just to use the bathroom seems impossible. But we can’t just poop in the sheets, then ring a bell for someone to come clean it up. That’s the fucking difference. We have to get up, get dressed, Drive to work, and communicate with other people. Actually driving can be even more exhausting when just getting dressed wiped any of your rested energy.

“I’ve seen worse, you’re fine.” Really. So the fact that my husband has worked ONE day in the last 3 weeks isn’t bad. Nope, not at all. Fuck you. Having anxiety/depression/Bipolar while still trying to live life is like being stuck in a traffic jam on a 6 lane interstate through a construction zone; except that eventually it does clear up, and you can just hit cruise again. For those of us with a mental illness, that traffic jam never clears up. We might get a break for a few miles, which translates to a few good days, or maybe even a week. But that’s all we get: a small break. There’s no solution, no cure, no “end work zone” sign. We’re in a dark tunnel carrying our own flashlight, because there isn’t one at the end.

There are those of us in “depression purgatory.” If that’s not a phrase; it should be. I have no thoughts of suicide, but I feel as though it would be easier just not to exist. I’m not going to go crash my car on purpose, or hang myself. But part of me feels like just suddenly ACTUALLY BEING nothing would be a relief. But I am something, so I carry on every day, just to remind myself that life can be wonderful and brilliant when I remember to stop and look. Because it really is, but it’s so hard to enjoy on the days when I’d rather just curl up in a ball and bury my head in the blanket.

Why do I want to do this? I don’t know; I’m just overwhelmed with... I don’t even know what. I can’t explain it either. There’s just a constant shadow of ..... something hanging over me. It’s not bad luck, it’s not a “sense of doom,” or dread. It’s just ... un-interest; and that’s not even a fair word, because it’s far darker than that. Everything is a chore, everything takes energy I just don’t have. I know what I have to do, I just can’t break the wall, get over the hurdle, open the door - whatever metaphor one prefers.

It’s like someone trying to lose weight. We all know the general formula: burn more calories than you consume. And we all know ourselves is the only one holding us back, but you just can’t hop that hurdle. Because everyone is different and each person has a slightly different way that formula will work for them. It’s easier to refuse trial and error, than be afraid to fail. I know I’m the one making myself “unhappy,” but I don’t know WHAT makes me unhappy. I don’t know what my formula is. I’ve never been one to “chase the dragon,” so I don’t even know how to conquer myself. And sometimes that’s the worst feeling in the world: Knowing who you are, but not WANTING to know who you CAN be.

Did i just find the root of depression? No, because there are plenty of people who set out to see what they can be and are still very, very depressed, and anxious, and “moody.” There’s no one reason anyone feels this way; there’s no “one size fits all.” And there is certainly no “just getting over it.” If you have that secret solution, please share. But do it with compassion and sincerity as a friend. Don’t give me the “I know more than the doctors” attitude. That’s not an attitude of someone who actually gives a shit.

Don’t give me an answer to something in which you don’t even believe. I know I have no reason to be unhappy; yet I am. I have a great life, an absolutely great life; but something deep inside prevents me from enjoying and appreciating it. Most of us will never know what it is that prevents us from “just being happy.”

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