why doesn't anyone believe me?
there is such a fine line between reality and delusion. i feel like i toe that line everyday. i just walked literally about 100 paces between my "disability" meeting and my dorm room and every set of eyes i felt judging me.
you're making this up. you're just lazy.
poor little rich girl, why are you on medication?
look at her hair, that girl is crazy.
we don't believe you.
nobody believes you.
you don't even believe yourself.
god doesn't even believe you.
everyone thinks you can beat this but i have this overwhelming sense of doom. what if i can't write my papers? what if i don't pass my classes? what if i am lying to myself.
why is it that this crippling disease/disorder/dysfunction WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT is so elusive, so upsetting? because i can't control or describe it. it controls me and defines me. i am it. it is me. nobody believes me, so nobody believes it. nobody believes us. i feel so isolated. i'm afraid that i'm never going to live up to all the expectations i set for myself as a little girl. i'm afraid of everything and nothing at all. it all matters so much and not at all.
i thought i wasn't going to cry today. i thought i was beyond this. but it came back. the fucking depression came back.
i'm sick of talking about it to people who will never understand. they nod their heads and take secretive notes but they don't get it. can i blame them? if i don't get it how can they?
my mom is worried. my dad thinks it's stupid. my brothers think i'm crazy.
i just want to be who i was. i used to be ambitious, proud almost to a fault, i had convictions and i had dreams. no one was going to stop me. i could speak eloquently and explain my opinions with grace and poise.
did this me ever exist? did i make her up too? maybe i was always like this.
i don't know what is real or imagined anymore. i don't know where lies end and truths begin. i don't think anything really exists. i don't even know what i'm talking about anymore. so much negativity.
walking around campus, i envy everyone who can focus. who's emotions are responses to real things, not just whims.
now i just feel like i'm wallowing in self loathing. SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID COW.
ok, i'm going to go eat popcorn, take my geodon and a clonazepam and finish this AQCI. then i'm going to go to class, eat some dinner and go to the library to try and work.
i want to finish my fable & do some grunt work for my NYC term paper. which is due in 10 days. FML.
i need someone to say they believe me. i need someone to tell me i'm not making it all up. i need someone to understand.
or this fucking depressive state needs to give way to some mania. or even hypomania i don't give a shit just LET ME DO SOMETHING. ANYTHING.
you're making this up. you're just lazy.
poor little rich girl, why are you on medication?
look at her hair, that girl is crazy.
we don't believe you.
nobody believes you.
you don't even believe yourself.
god doesn't even believe you.
everyone thinks you can beat this but i have this overwhelming sense of doom. what if i can't write my papers? what if i don't pass my classes? what if i am lying to myself.
why is it that this crippling disease/disorder/dysfunction WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT is so elusive, so upsetting? because i can't control or describe it. it controls me and defines me. i am it. it is me. nobody believes me, so nobody believes it. nobody believes us. i feel so isolated. i'm afraid that i'm never going to live up to all the expectations i set for myself as a little girl. i'm afraid of everything and nothing at all. it all matters so much and not at all.
i thought i wasn't going to cry today. i thought i was beyond this. but it came back. the fucking depression came back.
i'm sick of talking about it to people who will never understand. they nod their heads and take secretive notes but they don't get it. can i blame them? if i don't get it how can they?
my mom is worried. my dad thinks it's stupid. my brothers think i'm crazy.
i just want to be who i was. i used to be ambitious, proud almost to a fault, i had convictions and i had dreams. no one was going to stop me. i could speak eloquently and explain my opinions with grace and poise.
did this me ever exist? did i make her up too? maybe i was always like this.
i don't know what is real or imagined anymore. i don't know where lies end and truths begin. i don't think anything really exists. i don't even know what i'm talking about anymore. so much negativity.
walking around campus, i envy everyone who can focus. who's emotions are responses to real things, not just whims.
now i just feel like i'm wallowing in self loathing. SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID COW.
ok, i'm going to go eat popcorn, take my geodon and a clonazepam and finish this AQCI. then i'm going to go to class, eat some dinner and go to the library to try and work.
i want to finish my fable & do some grunt work for my NYC term paper. which is due in 10 days. FML.
i need someone to say they believe me. i need someone to tell me i'm not making it all up. i need someone to understand.
or this fucking depressive state needs to give way to some mania. or even hypomania i don't give a shit just LET ME DO SOMETHING. ANYTHING.
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