I realise that I have put nothing of any substance onto this blog in well over three months. Actually, let me rephrase, aside from my many posts about depression, I have not posted anything substantial. And I usually don’t like that. Trivial matters don’t make a good blog. Not to say that my blog is any good; I think it’s rubbish. But for those who do read this, it’s a burden to read something that is not actually interesting in any way.
Let me introduce you to a short summary of my year at university; it seems a good place to start.
I entered Truman State University back in August as a freshmen, completely clueless and maturing far too quickly. I made no effort to make friends but allowed friends to find me. In a matter of a month, I knew almost everyone in my dorm house and could call many of them friends. Today, I count four of them amongst some of my closest friends.
I started studying psychology, which was enjoyable. I can’t say the same for right now, but it’s because I’m getting my general education classes finished up and that includes the generals of psych. Experimental designs and biological psychology do not interest me, but they will be gone in two months, and for that I’m grateful. I also signed up for a studio art minor which I will be starting next semester.
During September, I started cutting down on meat in my diet and became a vegetarian by November. I’ve been slowly losing weight and gaining muscle ever since and physically feel the best that I ever have, even with EDS catching at my feet and hands everyday, trying to trip me up. My family has been surprisingly receptive to this.
My relationship with my family steadily grew worse from August to January, and I fought almost constantly with my mum. A lot of the reasons behind this were about neither of us understanding each other and becoming very different people. But none of those mattered as much as the fact that I was falling back into a depression.
After analysing my mental health over the past few years, here’s what I can say: I was depressed, possibly with dysthymia from the age of nine until twelve (which was caused by my parents’ divorce, moving across town, et cetera). I ‘woke up’ from the depression in the middle of seventh grade and barely even knew where I was or what I was doing. Imagine the fright of suddenly finding yourself in a classroom and realising that you were awake for the first time in four years. I spent the next two years figuring out a whole lot about myself, dropping habits, picking up new ones. A large part in getting back to the person I had been lied in making friends–the best of which I am still close to. I did a lot of maturing in the next few years, and that’s still going on today.
But the thing is, my depression came back every now and then. It was back for four months when I was fifteen, and it’s back again. In the middle of December was where I first started to notice that something was going wrong. By January, I was in completely chaos, and it only grew worse into February. In the middle of last month, I started making some honest efforts to get well. I started cutting back on junk food, which had become my diet since late December; I started dressing myself better; and I began to do anything in my power to think positively. There have been set backs, but I’m getting well again and have been increasing in mood for almost a month now. Be proud.
During the time that I was depressed, I stopped caring about class and friendships and all kinds of things. I stopped reading for class, stopped studying until the last moment, and put myself behind. Now, I’m playing a mad game of catch up over my spring break. I fought with my mum and became annoyed at anything she did, or my room mate did, or other people would do. But I’d only take it out on her, and for that I’m sorry. I’d like you to know, though, that things have been getting better for us over the past month. We haven’t fought a single time, and I’ve started to talk to her more often and think of it as less of a chore. Maybe it’s part growing up and maybe it’s part feeling better, but I’m happy. I love my mum dearly, and I don’t want to hurt her again.
But, luckily, I have gotten to see my best friends over the past two weeks. I visited Laura down in Springfield, visited with Molly back home, and will visit yet another bestie in a few days at Rolla. I’ve also gotten to see Erica, Daniel, and Brooke; and though I see Rebecca and Noah quite often, it’s still nice to spend time with them too. It has really helped to see them.
On the Thursday and Friday before I left for spring break, I was feeling completely down. It was one of those times where, even though you’ve been doing really well, you completely fall down and crumble to pieces. For a generally unemotional person, there was a lot of crying–mostly over a falling out with a friend whom I had considered close. I’d had to leave the living room with my friends just to go cry for ten minutes. I found myself crying while walking from class. I even found myself crying while studying. Terrible two days. But, on Friday, as I was finishing up a rather lengthy complaint to my diary, I heard a pounding at the door. So fierce was the pounding, that I leaped from my loft bed in order to answer it, yelling, “Coming!” all the way. When I opened the door, I was not surprised to see Rebecca (she’s the only one who will pound down my door). But I was surprised that she, Cat, and Ramina were there simply to say goodbye to me because they were leaving at 13.00 for home while Noah and I were leaving at 16.00. I told her that it brightened my mood considerably that she had stopped by. And maybe that’s the point of friends; that, when you’re feeling your lowest, they are there to show you the sun again.
Speaking of the sun, it’s out. And it’s beautiful. I can’t tell you how much that I have missed any weather that was not white and grey. Seeing bright blue skies with temperatures reaching into the sixties and falling rain and the dead grass. Well, it’s more than I can bare because it’s so beautiful. When I realised that it was raining last night, I sneaked away from my room, rolled up my pants, and just stood there, letting the rain seep into my hair and sweater and roll down my face. It was like being washed clean, and it would be impossible for me to describe how much I had missed it. A fresh start was so necessary; thank God for it.
Here, I wanted to write something substantial for you, and I started talking about depression again, but maybe it was necessary. Perhaps that’s what I needed to talk about to sum some things up before trying to move on and read psychology and go outside to enjoy this day. I’m maturing, and quickly. Welcome to the ride.
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