Carly Catastrophe

I have this problem where everytime there is some semblance of happiness in my life, that little chemical imbalance called depression kicks in. And the happier I am, the greater the depression. I sit and dwell on the disastrous what ifs until it drives me mad. I should be happy. I really should. At 20 I’ve found the person who no matter what will go down in my history as the love of my life. And his presence in my life is a reminder of my value and not the proof of it.┬áBut with all of that, comes the fear of losing it. And with that fear comes depression. And with depression comes that longing for self destruction. I’ve been doing well though. I mean, I’m in my head in a bad way but I’m not resorting to drugs or anything. I’m sure I’ll get out of it soon, I usually do, but this part bites.

It’s freezing outside. I love it. I figured out why last night as I was meditating in the cold. When it’s cold like that, I allow myself to really feel everything I’m feeling. Perhaps in an attempt not to go numb from the cold. I cling to every feeling I have happy and sad. And the more I feel it, the easier it is for me to let it go. It’s very therapeutic. I love winter and right now, I need it.

{February 8, 2008}   The Green-eyed Monster

I come home to find my best friend asleep in my bed. She’s not here for me, she’s here for my roommate. They’re upstairs being loud and having fun. I’m downstairs alone watching a Canadian Soap Opera due to lack of anything better to do. I’m starting to hate my best friend. It’s not really anything she’s doing so much as me just being jealous. I hate being jealous but I don’t know how to stop it. And when they’re both around I just feel hideous. My roommate is a size 0 my best friend isn’t far off from that. I’m a 13 which is just not cute. I want them out. Now.

Often I feel as if I live in a different world. Population me. I feel as if I don’t know anyone except in brief glances when I invite them into my world. They never seem to stay long. I’ve spent so much time hiding myself from everyone, that I don’t really know anyone at all. I don’t really know myself at all. Sometimes I feel so alone that I just can’t stand it. It gets so quiet and lonely in my world that I lash out hoping someone will respond. Just to hear someone, to feel someone, to know someone knows I’m there even for a moment. A therapist once asked me if I was suicidal. I had a hard time answering the question. The answer is both yes and no. I am suicidal, I think about it all the time. I’ve pictured it down to the last detail a million different ways. I would never do it. Call it fear, call it laziness, call it not being selfish. Whatever the reason, I could never bring myself to actually go through with it. Although, I’ve gotten so close more than once. When I get deep into depression, I don’t hope to get out of it the way I used to. I pray that I can descend all the way into my depression. The worst part is always the hope that it could get better. Once it gets better, you’ll just drop down again. I hate the ups and downs. No, I hate the ups, they make the downs more noticeable.

et cetera