I've heard that when you get depressed you are usually tired and have a lack of interest in anything. I guess I've been trying to convince myself for years now that I am a happy girl that lives in a place where rainbows and mother fucking sparkles dance around the world. Where gumdrops and fairies have tea parties on a daily basis. Where cats play with yarn serenely while dogs chase a ball playfully.
Remember that scene in Alice In Wonderland- the newer version with Johnny Depp- where the Mad Hatter walks into some desolate field and is flooded with memories he'd rather forget? And then it cuts back to him in the field and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he is remembering something that brings sadness to him? I fell just like that.
I must've been unconsciously denying the fact that I'm despressed for years now. Maybe 3? Something like that. And just now, I let myself come to terms with it. I can't keep denying it. Nor can I keep lying to my friends when they ask me if I'm okay. I truly thought I was okay until just this previous Monday.
I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to lie. I can't keep up this charade. Don't take this as a suicidal plea for help. Think of it more as an informative blog on how I've been holding up lately. Mentally, I'm fine. I don't want to commit suicide nor do I ever want to go down that road again. It honestly scared me that I could convey those thoughts. Emotionally, I'm as screwed as the nail that is holding up a painting. I feel like breaking down is the right thing to do but it makes me feel weak.
This reminds me in TV shows where they have Jesus on one persons shoulder whispering something persuasive like, "Do the right thing and you'll feel great!" While Satan is on the other shoulder saying, "C'mon! Just do what seems like fun! You won't regret it!"
I don't want to hear that everything will be okay or that things will work out in the end. I've had enough of that. I just want to know why I keep fighting myself.
