So I was under the naive belief that once you go on vacation, so does your depression. Turns out that’s not the case; it’s really working overtime. There are a lot of things going on in my head, which is incredibly typical. My main feeling is guilt. I feel guilty that my parents brought me on this vacation because I’m just dead weight. I don’t like to leave the bed, and if you manage to get me to leave the hotel, I’ll come back before dinner and refuse to leave for the rest of the night. I have terrible feet, so I’m always complaining about the pain. I often prefer to sit out than to do anything ever.
Today we’re in Hiroshima. I’ve been here before. I’ve actually been to every single city we’re visiting in Japan. It’s not that I don’t want to do certain things again, but I also don’t want to do things for the first time if they involve walking. I do best when I’m driven in a car from one place to another like some kind of spoiled princess.
Also, I don’t want to do more than one thing a day. My mum, The Research Queen, likes to pack a lot into each day. Taking a long bathroom break can really screw up the schedule. I like long breaks. I imagine upon returning to Toronto, I won’t leave my house for at least a week. Actually I would, but I have pre-scheduled plans that I want to keep. I really overestimated my stamina.
Guilt fills me for many different reasons. It’s not only because my loving parents brought me to East Asia, but also all the money I’m making them spend on me. There’s treats, souvenirs, and expensive experiences that no one else is really interested in, but I make them come because I don’t want to do anything alone. Then I think about all the costs I have regarding my life outside this trip. My phone constantly malfunctions, so I’m asking them for a new one. I’m asking them for a treadmill in my room because I know that if I need to leave my house to exercise, I just never will. I also really want a bidet, which according to my research has both financial and environmental benefits, so really it would pay for itself, but I’m not going to get into that.
I feel guilty that I get to live this life. My parents care about me so much and are supporting me through all this, and they’re not getting anything back. Not even anything to brag about. One of their sons is going to UofT Law next year (mazel tov Jayden by the way) and the other is going to a prestigious school in England. And me? I’m taking next semester off because I can't convince myself to complete even the tiniest of tasks. And my fucking parents are supporting me through this! Can you believe it? All I do for them is give them grey hair and take their money and they’re okay with that? I don’t get it. There are better people that should be in my position. I shouldn’t get to do this.
If I’m being totally honest (which I don’t know why I am, but whatever), I’m really done with this vacation. I really hate myself for it, but I’m tired of going out everyday. Everyone agrees that it doesn’t even feel like “family time” because I’m almost never with everyone else. I enjoy a lot of each day, but I miss my bed. Oh god, I just realized I’ll have to read all this to my therapist. She’s not going to like the whole bed thing.
Anyway, I guess that’s where I am right now. I apologize for the lack of comedy in this post, although I don’t think I ever claimed that this blog was supposed to be funny, so I guess I take it back.