Future topics

Things I want to address in this blog:

  • how this all started for me
  • my forays into treatment
  • tips for what works to help: drinking coffee, exercise, even when it’s hard
  • what i think about psychiatry
  • what i think about psych meds (those two opinions are quite opposite, i’ll leave you wondering which is good and which is evil)
  • finally accepting that at least some of this is not all my fault
  • finally accepting that i may never feel good and studies on happiness
  • finally accepting medication and my adventures with that
  • how easy suicidal thoughts become – how what starts out as so desparate becomes something that is with you all the time every day

My first real post, beyond the introduction, my foray into how to look Super when you aren’t

One thing that I think a lot of people who feel like me haven’t learned is how to fake relationships. Unhappy people feel lonely, and that just makes them more unhappy. I used to be like that. I was unpopular, and the problem is, when you feel so shitty, all you want to do is bitch about it. This tends to turn people off, to drive them away. Then you just end up lonelier and worse off than you started.

The biggest change for me came when I read Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People. It is truly a great book, one that changed my life. It is unfortunate that it has a name that sounds so manipulative, because it really is a book about loving people. The bottom line is that when you meet someone, no matter how intimidating or scary or boring they seem, you can find something to love about them, a human side. Everybody wants to be liked. Everybody feels awkward sometimes, everybody feels like a kid.

It really helped me come out of my shell. I used to be very shy and lonely and awkward. I worked hard, and learned how to make people feel comfortable with me. My vocation requires that, and I am now often admired for this by my peers. They send me in whenever difficult client relations come up. My best friend from the field says that he wishes he could be like me in that. It’s funny, because I so wish I could be like him…I love him very much as a friend, as a person. He’s humble and good and sure of himself and knows where he’s been and who he is, and is really a good-hearted person, as opposed to someone who fakes it like me. He is what I wish I could be. I secretly think he’s too good to really be my friend.

I think Philo, who was some kind of philosopher, said the quote of the day, something like: Treat people kindly, because everyone you meet is engaged in a great struggle. I like that. And it’s a great lesson in life. I try to live by it. It’s hard for me though, because I’m naturally kind of bitchy. But I’m working on it. I wish I were naturally generous or kind. I wish it didn’t all come so hard.

Anyway, where was I going? Oh yeah. If you don’t want to be lonely, you have to cover up and hide your dark side. Even though you think that a real friend will love you even with all that, it’s kind of a lot to ask of people. You have to just put away all your shit, and act like everyone else. Be cheerful, be happy to see people, even if you aren’t really. Once you can do that, you’ll have lots of friends. You won’t be nearly as lonely.

I know because this is what I did. But lately, since my mood has been crashing again, I really wish that I could just cry on someone’s shoulder. But I can’t do it with all these new friends. They are all super themselves; they only know Super Sara. I can’t be Sad Sara with them. Certainly not Suicidal Sara. I’m away on business lately, and that’s been hard, because I don’t have them to make me laugh every day. So when I’m in touch with them, I’ve sort of been hinting about not feeling so well to them, but I know they don’t want to hear it.

And there’s the rub.

Just what the internet needs

Another blog about depression and it’s fallout on someone’s life. Of course. And of course, it has to be a 20-something single chick. It figures.

But here’s the thing: I can’t write about this shit on my regular blog. It’s only semi-anonymous, and also really mostly deals with the parts of my life that everyone sees. It deals with the place I live, and my profession. My family and friends read it; in fact, it started as a way to keep up with my life for people who were far away. Despite keeping it pretty private and out of the search engines, it ended up with more readers than people I know, so some people are reading it. I think probably mostly they are people in my profession, which is supposed to be one of those demanding ones. It is cheerful and funny, and the voice of the author is that of my alter-ego, the brave, confident woman I wish I were. Sometimes, the lie is so real that I forget who I am.

So here’s who I am: a 28 year old girl/woman…well, probably I have to say woman now. I am in a profession that is considered “professional,” demanding, and competitive. For all intents and purposes, I live a charmed life. I am not a great beauty, but I am pretty. I am good at what I do, and lots of my friends in the field envy how easy they think it is for me (it’s not, but I am good at making it look like it is, more on this later). My life, on the surface, does not look fucked up. I have never been in a mental hospital, or even any other kind. I have no chronic disease. I do not use drugs or drink. My boyfriend is boring; he loves me and treats me well.

It would probably surprise most everyone I know, then, to find out that I have spent most of my life suicidal, for as long as I can remember.

I’m not even sure I’m really depressed in the classic sense. I mean, I don’t have all the symptoms – sometimes I have sleeping trouble, but I sleep a lot too. I tend to overeat. Good things happen to me, although most of the time I don’t feel good about them, but sometimes life is so sweet I almost can’t bear it. I don’t just sit on the couch and veg. I meet my deadlines, professional ones at least. I’m not a walking zombie. I don’t remember what all are the rest of the signs, but I don’t have them all and certainly not all the time.

I guess I’m just sad a lot. Or tired. Sometimes it all – this whole mortal coil, from genocide to an untied shoelace, seem too much to deal with. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember. I am just so very tired of it all. I need a permanent vacation or some other song lyric like that.

This is my secret, therapy blog. The one I don’t show everyone. The one where I tell the truth. I hope that by doing that, maybe someone will be out there and read it and feel better. Or that I’ll be able to figure something out about all this. But mostly, just to tell someone out there on the internet the truth. For five minutes, to not have to be super Sara but to be able to be stupid, sad sara. The one that no one wants to be around.