A Moment of Clarity
When I first realized I was depressed, it was after I had disappeared for a weekend and had started putting cigarettes out on my arm on a regular basis. I was also crying and moody and threatening to jump off metro platforms. Then there was this sudden epiphany, like hey dumbass, this is bad. I subsequently began seeing a therapist for the low low price of $120 per session, twice a week. Several hundred thousand dollars later, I was ok enough to go only once a week and to leave the country without flipping my shit. Of course I still flip my shit on occasion and will cry for no reason, except because I’m just sad. The worst is that in college I could be incapacitated due to depression and take a few days off from class. In the lovely real world of which I am now residing, I can’t take a day off of work because I’m really fucking sad. Instead I have to go in, because I have to have money. And instead of being ‘haha everything is funny’ Heather, I tend to become moody, ‘oh my god, I might cry because of the dumbest shit ever’ Heather. When I get depressed, every little thing will bother me to no end, to the point where the apocalypse might be coming if I lose a sock.
I waver between not caring about anything and keeping to myself and then being completely normal. It’s like a constant battle between me thinking that the world will end with every little problem and it being ok, that I overspent at Aveda, because that’s what parents and/or a savings account is for. And this is how it’s been for the past few weeks. I’ve been really fucking bored and full of malaise about everything in my life and I take pity on anyone who came within 10 feet of me; I was a bitch on wheels. Then suddenly, everything was ok. As in I didn’t cry when I hated my outfit on Friday night or when I was running late. I was able to enjoy dinner with my favorite people, during which we reminisced about college, which feels like forever ago. Saturday, I could’ve cared less when I looked like shit, but I made that trek out to VA and enjoyed Sex and the City and a few red stripes and stella’s.
I think what’s most important is that things are rarely the ‘be all end all’ in life and that there will always be times when things fucking suck. But I’ve finally learned how to say “Heather stop being a piss ass bitch and calm the fuck down”. It also helps to be girly and have a little SATC in my life, as ridiculous as I think it all is; and there is always alcohol and the friends that brag about you to their roommate’s parents and a few rounds of yoga. Suddenly everything is copasetic and I can check my bank balance without becoming ill and write like I fucking mean it; so for now, it’s all good.