So there’s a bigger post coming soon, probably sometime in between an hour and two weeks from now. I don’t want to hype it up too much because like most of the things on this blog, it’s not overly exciting, but it’s been very difficult for me to write. Taking my time with writing has never been a specialty of mine, so this has been a bit different. I had been putting off uploading anything here because I didn’t realize how long it would take me to write this upcoming post. I missed writing on my blog though, so here I am again, with a post of no particular importance.
Frankly, I’m not doing well. I have all these things that I want to accomplish with my time, but I can’t seem to act on any of it. My two friends who have been extremely ride or die, Anxiety and Depression, have been clinging to me so strongly, and I really wish we had some boundaries. This past weekend was particularly tough for me.
It all started when my parents left to go to Collingwood and I stayed home by myself. Friday night was uneventful, but I was planning on seeing a couple of movies on Saturday to prepare myself for the Oscars (yes, I come from one of those families where the Oscars is as important as the Superbowl to Midwestern dads). That morning, I received a text from my aunt asking me to babysit. Suddenly, I spiraled. I had plans, but only with myself, so they could easily be rescheduled. It’s not like I wouldn’t be able to see these films at other times, and I usually don’t mind babysitting too much, depending on how much my little cousins seem to like each other that day. (Side note: if anyone is reading this and gets the idea that I am open to babysitting, you’d be wrong, I only like Ozzie and Violet. But I guess I also like money. I’ll babysit for other people for a lot of money.)
I think nine times out of ten, I’d cancel my internal plans and happily babysit. However this was the tenth part of that, which just to be clear, isn’t to not babysit, it’s to have a mental breakdown and at least one panic attack while calling my parents freaking out to the point where my dad calls my aunt for me and tells her I am unavailable to babysit, but ask if her children could babysit me. Of course, since my aunt is a lovely reasonable human being, she was okay with this, but my stress was far from over. At this point, I didn’t have anything in particular to worry about, yet Anxiety would not leave me alone, and eventually invited Depression to hangout too. Depression came ready to party, and by that I mean do the opposite of party because I was laying in my bed only thinking, “I can’t,” accompanied by self-harm and light suicidal thinking. When stuff like this happens during the day, the only thing I can seem to do is go to sleep. It’s the only way to make it stop for the moment, so that’s what I did.
When I woke up, hours had gone by and I was feeling slightly better. Slightly. There were no more self-harm or suicidal thoughts, but Depression was not ready to give up. I made myself familiar with Depression’s strongest enemies: Ben & Jerry, which helped quite a bit, but they couldn’t quite overpower her totally.
Sunday also wasn’t too easy, but it was a breeze compared to the day before. I forced myself to go to dinner at my grandparents’ because I knew it was important that I be there to see our visiting cousin from Hawai’i. It was honestly really tough, but there I reunited with my parents, and everything was eventually okay.
Small crises like this haven’t been abnormal recently, but there have been good times too. I am absolutely capable of feeling happiness, it just isn’t overarching. Hopefully someday I will be able to break this cycle, but for now, I’m hopeful that everything remains manageable.