Ch-ch-changes

I've changed everything about my blog! Even the URL! I've gone crazy, I know. But I really feel like I need to move on. In my previous post, I talked about dwelling. And what a better way to stop dwelling than to discontinue my blog's theme. That doesn't mean I will stop talking about my issues - after all, this is a personal blog - but I've decided it will help to focus on other things. Like music, literature, art, TV, and whatever else suits my fancy. You'll notice quotes from both T.S. Eliot and Wallace Stevens have infiltrated everything already (I'm definitely in love with the American modernists).

Anyway, I feel like I'm rambling. The point is, there are changes taking place in my life and therefore there are changes taking place on here.

The one in which I dwell on dwelling.

I think with depression comes a certain kind of paranoia. (Well, maybe this is just me, I'm not an expert.)

It's like this: Your best friend makes a comment about not wanting to date a guy because he isn't a virgin. She doesn't know about particular things in your past, but you immediately feel if she did, she would drop you.

I know depression is as much biological as it is mental. Biologically, there are certain chemicals that do not work properly or don't get produced enough, or whatever it is, that makes people predisposed to feelings of depression. But mentally, there's the dwelling on things. For me, those things are generally my past. So finding out that something I've done is so undesirable to someone I care about leads me to take this thing I've been dwelling on and bottle it up. Out of fear of them leaving, out of fear of humiliation, out of fear of ridicule, out of fear of damnation. And even if they've never given any inclination that something I may have done in my past is despicable to them, the fears are still there. I was willing to do this and I find it awful. How will they react?! I tell myself.

Sometimes, I seek out people who will excuse the things I've done merely because they have also done them. Which is just probably just as bad for me as feeling pre-judged by my peers because these people also tend to encourage my badness.

So that's the thing I'm struggling with at the moment. It's almost ridiculous because I understand that my friends will love me, even if they don't condone what I do. But it's like my brain doesn't want to get with that. It takes willpower that I don't have right now to overcome those nagging fears.

Anchors

I am tired so very tired. But between this overdue paper, the research project I haven't started on, the things my friends want me to do, the things my parents want me to do, impending finals and the stuff that's going on at work, I don't see myself getting a real rest anytime soon. I don't even see myself getting any rest during summer break. It's looking like I'll have to find a second job for the summer, just to get my parents off my back. Which is unfortunate. I didn't want to spend my entire summer working. I wanted to catch up on my reading and writing. I wanted to sleep. But apparently 9 a.m. is too late to sleep in now. Sleeping during the day is "not right" also. Spending any sort of time in my room on my computer is "unhealthy."

Thing is, without this computer, I probably would have been dead or crazy ages ago.

How do I figure? Well, first of all, there's the fact that it allows me to talk to my friends when my cell phone is unreliable (which is all the time). Second, it's given me an outlet for all the things I can't say to anyone. Third, music. Fourth, I learn new things all the time because of this computer. These are the things that keep me sane and that keep me going. I don't see how spending time with them is unhealthy. It's an anchor of sorts, like books.

Speaking of books, I've been spending a lot of money on books lately. I need a new bookshelf desperately. I can't help but buy at least one a week now. I love books: the way the smell, the way the words look on the page, the way the pages feel, the way the sentences sound all strung together. Like I said, they are an anchor. I think without them I would just float away.

I'm pretty sure

that it's safe to say The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me album from Brand New basically keeps me going day in and day out. Brand New, I love you. Jesse Lacey, I love you especially.

This is the post in which I complain about my friends being happy.

But seriously. Sometimes it feels like they're flaunting it. And then they get boyfriends and all they talk about are their boyfriends. Meanwhile, I'm standing there, nodding and smiling, getting irritated. Was I like that when I had a boyfriend? Was he all I talked about? Did I irritate them the same way? I like to think I wasn't that way, but who can tell? Maybe the reason I'm annoyed is because I'm jealous. I'd like someone to think about, someone that's mine. But no. Every guy I like either has to use me, smother me, ignore me or just not like me. So I'm reduced to sitting on my laptop all day, complaining that my friends are happy and throwing a little pity party for myself. There's not even any party hats for that.

It's a process.

Better? Is there ever going to be a time when I feel that I am better?

It's a process, I know. But I am sick of processes. I am sick of waiting.

The worst part is that I'm falling into old habits. I was doing so good for a while. And now I'm slipping. I'm so angry with myself. Why can't I be better? Why can't I do what I need to do to get there?

The only two things I can rely on at this point are God and music.

God, you say? Yes. God. This coming from the girl who has messed up so many times that she doesn't know which way is up. The only time I feel like I can get better, be a better person, or that I'm going through this for a reason is when I'm really connecting to Him. Without that, there would be no hope. Without believing in God, all of this would be completely pointless and it wouldn't matter one way or another if I- dare I say it?- killed myself. It's that hope that keeps me going most days.

And then there's music. Brand New in particular. I get to feel something when I listen to music. Other times, I just feel numb. But music gives me a sort of catharsis, it helps me make sense of things.

I'm hoping that soon I'll be able to start writing again. I've felt so tapped out in that area, but maybe as I start to get better, I can find my way back to the pen.

I guess things have gotten better.

I can actually get out of bed at a decent time most days now. My eating habits are still erratic at best. I only cried today because it was Valentine's Day and I felt lonely. But other than that, it's been a long time since I've cried for no reason.

I still don't want to ever get out of bed. But I don't have to push myself as hard.

It's still difficult with school, though. Like, my history teacher mentioned a group project today and I'm terrified of having to deal with people I don't know. I keep putting things off. More than I did in high school.

I was seeing someone. But then he started ignoring me again, so I've decided to give up on him.

This week, I've had a lot of trouble getting to sleep.

But overall, yes, I feel better.