Recovering from Depression

Words tend to get used far more often than they should, like "love", "hate", "literally", etc. "Depressed" can also fall into that category. I think people use that word when they mean their mood was lightly diminished by something or someone, but they don't feel TRUE depression. For some reason, I don't get the impression that people know the real meaning of depression. I don't think people understand the feeling of worthlessness, abandonment, and self-hatred a depressed person has for themselves. People may not realize just how many negative thoughts a depressive has in a day. 

Even more unreported is not just the loss of interest in hobbies and other activities, but how much of a struggle it is to try to continue a normal life. Here is where I'll offer an example.

I've struggled with depression since I was 13 years old. It was back in that awkward stage every kid has when they try to create a sense of identity. Back then I was involved in music, being in orchestra and a steel drum band. I was doing exceptionally well in both, being a leader in both areas. I guess what put me over the edge was learning that I was moving away (from California to Alabama), so everything I accomplished and all the friends I had made were about to be left behind. I lost interest. Hard. I went from first chair to last chair in orchestra, and I skipped out on steel drum performances. My mom and my teachers took notice and it came out that I had major depressive disorder. I don't remember what was done to bring me out of it, but after a while, a long while mind you, I was fine.

Well, as major depressive disorder has a tendency to do, it's reared its ugly head again. At age 22, I'm about to be a college graduate and move into a very large and important part of my life. I. Am. Terrified. I feel like I've had a pretty good college life. I made sure to get involved and invest myself in the university. But my life is about to change again, and just like before, I'm losing interest in a lot of things--my classes, my job, my school spirit--nothing interests me anymore. 

Friends? Yeah I've got friends. Unfortunately, a lot of their activities leave me, out of the picture. This leaves me feeling lonely, and this is where my sense of worthlessness has been coming from.

Let's blend the loss of interest and the sense of worthlessness and get to today's struggle. Today was my school's Homecoming football game. In all the years I've been going here, I've always enjoyed seeing our football team play. This year, not so much, which is bad, because they're finally at the level where they play some more well-known college teams. But I've been feeling like such a sad sack lately that I couldn't go out to support them.

I laid in bed for hours this morning FIGHTING myself about going to this game. I knew if I stayed home, I would have nothing else to do but lie in bed and cry (as depressed people typically do). But I thought if I went to the game, I wouldn't be in the mood, I'd be crying, and I'd ultimately bring down the mood of all the eager football fans, which would make me feel worse about myself.

One of the symptoms of depression is being lethargic. I literally have had no energy for anything since this depression reset. The night before, I had forced myself to go to the homecoming parade and pep rally. I was exhausted from faking my excitement and happiness, and I had no desire to do it again. 

A tiny part of me realized the importance of getting out of my room and being around good spirits. It took energy to get the energy (yeah, you read that right) to get up and go. I got up, got dressed, and marched over to the shuttles that were taking students to the game. I started shaking and tearing up almost immediately once I thought about how my emotions would fail me. It took everything in me not to run off the bus crying. I had to fight it. I DID fight it.

The day turned out wildly positive. Everyone I met up with was happy to see me. We had a great time eating food and taking pictures and cheering on the team. It was an experience I would have hated to have missed out on, so I'm proud of myself for getting out of my slump, at least for a little while.

Hopefully I was able to convey in my example that life is not always easy for someone with depression. Some people may think that it's relatively easy to get over, but it's not. At all. It directly affects all aspects of a person's life. Depression is especially hard to get through if a person has no support. If I didn't have anyone to meet up with at the game, I'm more than positive I would not have gone. Instead, I would be a puddle of tears in my bed. Personally, I don't do anything destructive when I'm depressed, but think about how much worse it may be for other people...

I guess this is a call to action to people who know someone who suffers the way I do. Just be a friend. Keep the person company and find a way to let them know they are valued. As childish as it may sound, they--we-- need to know we have a place somewhere. We don't necessarily need to feel special, just included. 

In Passing...

Today is Tuesday, September 10th, 2013. And instead of studying or whatever I'm supposed to be doing on a Tuesday night, I'm on Facebook (which is equally acceptable to a different group of people). I'm scrolling through my timeline when I suddenly remember that today would have been my dad's... wait, hold on... *Googles dad's obituary*... his 59th birthday. So I make a Facebook status that says:

Just realized today would have been my dad's 59th birthday.

After a while, I found myself staring at the status. There was just something so empty and cold about it. I casually remembered his birthday at the tail end of the day and I didn't say anything about loving him or missing him. The whole status was just...

...in passing...

You would think that in the passing of a parent you would hold any and all memories near and dear to you. No doubt, I have some near memories, but dear? Not so much (despite what it says in my previous post about him). How many of MY birthdays did he remember? How many of my school recitals has he been to? How often has he felt guilty about not being around as much as he should?

These are obviously questions that I won't get the answers to any time soon, but these are some of the things I think about when Daddy Mark comes to mind.

But those are just my adult thoughts of him. My kid brain still wants to remember him being as cool as he looked in my favorite picture of him. He was wearing a marigold long-sleeved button down shirt, a dark tie, and some dark slacks. He had his foot propped up on a chair, and he was leaning on his knee. To add to the cool factor, he had on dark shades as well.

I haven't seen that picture in several years, but it's so vivid in my mind. I always looked at that picture and said "This is my dad. This is my father figure. I'm his baby girl." The sad part is I rarely reaped any of the benefits of being this man's daughter. Maybe once he stayed with me while I was sick, another time gave me money, took me out to eat, or took my side in a sibling rivalry. But I venture to say that it was only enough for me to feel obligated to have anything to say about him. Yeah, I miss him. But "miss" just may be a word I use to attempt to describe this longing feeling I have to try and build a better relationship. The opportunity to do so is "missed".

As far as loving him goes, I think I've covered that already. When I was little, my mom told me "Don't tell me you love me unless you can prove it." Strange thing to tell a kid, right? But it makes sense. You show love through actions, not just words. In my 14 years of life up to his passing, my dad hasn't done enough to earn an "I love you" from me.

"Sometimes Daddy"

Damn you, Christina Aguilera.

This video, of course, is about lamenting a lost relationship. She goes through all the I-wish-I-coulda/woulda/shouldas one would go through in this kind of sadness and she freakin got to me. As old as this video is, and much time as I've had to desensitize myself, she got to me. I couldn't help but to think of my dad.

My dad died in 2006, coincidentally when this video was made. Daddy Mark is what I called him. We weren't too terribly close, neither emotionally nor physically. Two years prior to his death, some time around my 13th birthday, I told him that I didn't want a "Sometimes Daddy". He would come around for a little while, shower me with gifts and treats, and then disappear. I told him I didn't want that, and apparently neither did he. So I never saw him again. That same year, we moved from California to Alabama. A year later he was gone.

It's funny (for lack of a better word) how it worked out. We were so far removed from each others' lives that I didn't learn of his passing until 2 months later, around this time 7 years ago. Two months later, and a month before my 15th birthday.

They told me it was a heart attack. I took it to mean a broken heart. I blamed myself. I thought I hurt his feelings. I felt like he thought I hated him. I felt like it was all my fault. To some degree, I still do. It hurts to know that he's not here to tell me otherwise.

I guess it's clear that I never really got over it. After I learned the news, I would see men walking around with the same build as my Daddy Mark (he was a BIG man...). My heart would always skip a beat because I always thought it was him, as if for some reason he would come all the way to Alabama to "surprise" me. I've only done it a couple times recently.

Every memory of him that I have (which I can probably count on both hands) is my favorite. I only remember smiling whenever he was around. In fact, to me, his only flaw was that he was indeed a "Sometimes Daddy".

I still miss him though.

It's Crunch Time

Welp, we're at the end of my first senior year at the University of South Alabama. I attended a wonderful graduation of those going out into the world before me. It inspired me to come up with a more solid plan for my life. Literally ANYTHING will be better than me just shrugging my shoulders and hoping for the best.

Then I saw my grades...

I only have myself to blame for them not being where they need to be. But now I'm filled with a sense of determination that I've never had before (I started feeling it around finals... of course by then it was too late for it to do any good). I NEED to make next year my last year at South. At least for undergrad. I haven't really given a WHOLE lot of thought to what I'm gonna do out there in that big scary world. People keep asking me if I still want to teach. Honestly, I don't know. But what I could do is become a SUB--stick my toes in the water, so to speak, and see if it's something I would really want to get into. If not, I can look into becoming an editor, which is one of the reasons I wanted to become a teacher in the first place. I could become a technical writer, which seems easy enough for me. I could... idk... I'm pretty limited as an English major... we'll see. This is truly the most thought I've given this since I switched majors.

I really need to focus on school right now though. Everyone is ready for me to graduate. Trust me, it's time.

People Suck

They typically say that customer service jobs are the jobs that make you hate people. They allow you to see how rude, unpleasant and ungrateful people can really be. I know I have "diarrhea of the mouth" when it comes to Jaguar Productions, but I feel like this job (or campus programming in general) should fall under the customer service category.

We invest thousands of dollars to bring events to campus that are freaking FREE to students, and it legitimately seems like NO ONE is satisfied with them. On a campus of over 15,000, how is it that I can count on 2 hands how many people show up to our events? That is just ridiculous to me. It's embarrassing to have to try to explain to an artist why virtually no one is in attendance. It's not like we don't advertise. We advertise the hell out of everything. Facebook, Twitter, text, newspaper, email, campus calender, Instagram, Word of Mouths, sheet signs, flyers... people are clearly going around campus with their eyes closed.

If at all possible, I just want us to go one year without doing ANY events. Just to see how much we would be missed. Then we could stop breaking our backs over large scale events that no one claims to know about. We'll get a well deserved break and there would be some truth behind the much-uttered phrase "There's nothing to do on campus!"

Damn right. Ingrates.

Random Thoughts in No Particular Order

• I'm glad we're friends again. Or are we? Ya know, I'm not sure how this whole thing is supposed to work. Are we actually friends are are we just more cordial to each other than we have been previously? 
• Why am I so insecure? I wanna be the kinda person who doesn't give a crap about what others think of me or how I appear to others. But those are things I think about way more than I should.
• I need to look up movie times for Saturday...
• What do I need to do in the office tomorrow... Establishing Values... Oozeball... sheet signs... ... 
• What do I need to say to this new board that will stick with them and when am I gonna get the balls to say it?
• Justin Timberlake is super freakin cute... One of my top five favorite celebrities... or top four... let's see, Kenan Thompson, Kevin Hart, Justin Timberlake, Ne-Yo, ... Hmm, I guess it is really only four...
• I've rarely been asked what my "type" is. I would never know what to say. I don't HAVE one... I like all kinds of people. The important thing is that you have to make me laugh and you have to be able to hold a decent conversation with me.
• I type really loud. My roommate probably isn't appreciating this right now. I'll stop.

Untitled

I don't handle death well. At all. I cry when strangers die. Something about it is just unsettling to me. I can't wrap my brain around it. I'm sure one day I'll be able to cope better than I do now. But it doesn't help when someone one step closer than a stranger passes away unexpectedly.

I've only had a few encounters with her which would have otherwise been meaningless--having a small conversation with her while she was on her way to a JP meeting, her giving me a sticker that I would eventually put on my laptop, and the occasional wave hello. But the last encounter is what stuck with me. It was on the day she suddenly fell ill. Still a simple hello as she walked by the JP office (where I am currently writing this). But she looked so joyful and lively, not at all like someone who was about to pass away soon.

You can tell me all day about the circumstances of her death. She fainted while playing volleyball, had a seizure, went unresponsive, was put on life support for a while... But I'm never gonna understand why. Why did it have to be her? Why was it her time? Why did I have to see her on that day?

I feel so low right now. I can only imagine how those closer to her must feel. From my few encounters and from what I hear, she was a sweet and fun girl. If there is anything I could give that is better than condolences, I would gladly give it. This was a very tragic loss for friends, family, and the University of South Alabama.

Miss Independent?

Today was a nice day. I didn't want to let it go to waste in Mobile, so I took a spontaneous trip to Florida. It was my first time going... yup,  just me and Justin Timberlake in his Suit and Tie telling me about That Girl with the Strawberry Bubblegum. The trip was so pleasant and relaxing--just what I needed to take my mind off of things. I can't believe I didn't do it sooner.

*Ugh... why couldn't that have been a true story? :-/*

I don't wanna say I had a terrible childhood, but I was let down quite a bit. I attribute it to having so many people on a high pedestal. This is something I struggled with MUCH of my life, even in adulthood. It was super easy to hurt my feelings.

At this point, I feel like I don't have ANYone on a pedestal. At least I think I don't... I mean, I don't expect too much good out of people anymore, but that doesn't explain the frustration and disappointment (which could easily be confused for hatred) that I feel when particular people come to mind. Is this a side effect of dismantling the mantle? I'm not sure.

I've taken a fancy to being alone. While it's nice to hang out with other people, I'm not interested in having people "adjust their busy schedules" or "settle" for being around me. I don't want anything to be forced. What's the point? Anything I can do by myself--like eat, go to a game, paint--I'm glad to do it alone. If people wanna join me, that's their prerogative. I'm just not gonna be the one offering these opportunities to people who clearly don't have the fucking time.

*sigh* I don't know why I'm so bitter right now. I honestly don't know what it's like to spread my time across something more than school and JP. In fact, I'm pretty sure I spend more time with JP than anything else. At times I feel like I'm too committed to it... too passionate about it. I haven't thought to do anything else on campus until this year, thinking about being an RA.  I would like to be able to do both, but I've thought about quitting JP so many times. I used to have so much joy walking into the office everyday. Lately, the only thing on my mind when I walk in is "ugh, I gotta deal with these people again..." I don't like thinking like that, but I can't help it. I work with some really selfish, lazy people. Those types of people aren't the easiest to motivate. I don't know if I have the energy for it anymore. It's like poison...

I hate that it took me this long to "say" something about this, but we're so close to the end of this year that it doesn't make much sense to voice anything to them. We'll just see what happens (<---and it's that mentality that got me to this point. I need a new strategy NOW.).

If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say...

Earlier, I was Googling a phone number for a local Burger King. A few locations popped up and I happened to notice that they all had a few reviews for them. The particular location I needed had 7 reviews. Only one of them said something positive. It was pretty sad to me.

But looking at that, it made me realize that that's the way people are these days (<-- "these days" being my only reference since I'm too young to know what "those days" were like). People are so critical. They offer this negativity under the ruse of being helpful or constructive, or simply to just be mean. An the people who don't take criticism well--oh gosh!--everyone is a hater, and "they just don't understand" and blah blah blah...

Where are the compliments?

As humans, we seek validation, whether or not we have low or high self-esteem. We want people to like us, or what we do or how we look. Understanding that, why is it so hard for us to pay someone a compliment where it's due? Why is it so easy for us (and I say "us" because this is something I'm guilty of as well) to put someone down?

I was stumbling the other day, and came across this list of 30 challenges for 30 days. It shows a bunch of things you can do to become a better you. This list is composed of many things you can do such as "start a conversation with a stranger" or "tell someone one thing you like about them". I think everyone should see and do the things on this list. You, just like everyone else, want to be told something nice and sincere. But you shouldn't have to wait for others to step up to do it first. Pride is the issue here. Push your pride aside and be the reason someone has a good day. Something as simple as "You look pretty today" can go a long way. In making someone smile and feel good about themselves, you can improve your own self-esteem and attitude.

This is a selfish, rude, and impatient world. But of course it's not all bad, and I recognize that. I want to show others that I recognize that. Some of the things that can be done:

• Tell a woman she's pretty-- not what she has on is pretty, but that she, herself, is pretty. Women probably seek the most validation of all. I rarely hear any woman compliment another woman on her beauty unless it's a celebrity and/or the compliment is online. Tell her to her face if you can.
• Thank anyone who offered a service-- gave food, gave a ride somewhere, gave information. None of that is deserved, but the fact that it was given deserves some thanks.
• Hold the door open for someone-- now, I'm not a doorstop, but I don't let the door close on someone who is immediately behind me. That's just rude, especially if they're carrying something.
• Offer to help carry something-- Help take the load off. I'm a tiny person, but I can help carry something if someone needs help. 
• Offer a seat to someone-- I don't even leave it up to males to do that anymore... If a person is obviously tired, elderly, or disabled in some way, I'll stand my able-bodied behind up and offer them my seat.
• Just say hello to someone-- I used to be really bad with this. Coming from California, I didn't have to greet every stranger I saw. But oddly enough, that's how you meet some really nice people :)
• Let someone know they're doing a good job-- As I said earlier, we are so quick to point out a wrong-doing. Telling someone to keep up the good work is one of the best things you can do for someone constantly being berated for some minor details. Call a restaurant or some other place you frequent and let them know you like what they're doing. It really means a lot.

Is This Where We're Headed?

I have a pretty active imagination. I tend to freak myself out over tragedies that never happened. It takes a little while for me to calm myself down after an imagined incident. I think the scary part is that these things could happen. Recently, I had this dream. It's become a recurring dream. It's really eerie.

So in my dream, I'm asleep. I'm awakened by loud banging and urgent voices. I get up to look out my window. Across the street, I can see a cop car parked outside a house, a male officer standing in an open car door, and a female office at the front door of the house. The female officer is knocking on the door, yelling, "Sir, we know you're there! Come out of the house!" The door opens, and instead of a grown man, this really adorable little boy (maybe 3 or 4 years old) creeps outside. He stands there for a while, looking at the woman, smiling. The officer leans down to talk to the little boy, then literally out of nowhere, the kid pulls a gun out of his pants and shoots the officer.

That was the end of my dream. The recurring part is this little cherubic face looking into the officer's face... his little hand reaching for the gun... the officer falling down dead from a gunshot wound inflicted by someone who's barely been in the world.

This dream was likely inspired by all the violence that's been going on this summer:

• July 20th: Colorado Massacre--12 dead, 58 injured
• July 17th: Shooting Death of 25-year-old Christy Golson
• July 17th: Tuscaloosa Shooting--17 injured
• July 7th: Shooting Death of 40-year-old Wendy Fisher
• June 9th: Auburn Shooting--3 dead, 3 injured

The significance of the July 7th shooting was that the killer was only 17 years old. Many people were shocked to hear that. So is my dream really that farfetched? Is it so unlikely that in the near future we'll hear of more instances where a 3-year-old pulls the trigger on someone? Who knows.

I hate that any of these deaths happened. I hate that people have to turn to violence to express anger or other negative emotions. Parents could easily be blamed, but parents won't always be around to tell you to calm down. People have to have some personal responsibility, at least in the case of these 5 shootings.

In the meantime, I hope I can stop having that creepy dream.