Relapse

Now Playing: The Outside by Taylor Swift (how can I ever try to be better, nobody ever lets me in. I can still see you, this ain't the best view, on the outside looking in...you saw me there but never knew that I would give it all up to be a part of this, a part of you)

I think I have started to relapse back into depression.

Which in itself is a pretty depressing thought, because I never want to go back to where I was.

I just feel like the things that used to make me happy don't make me as happy anymore, and the feeling doesn't last as long. The littlest things can push me over the edge or make me go under. I feel like I'm losing it a bit more, throwing more tantrums, just outbursts of rage and uncontrollable fury with no outlet. But at the same time I've been caring less and less...I sink into longer and longer periods of melancholy, of not giving a damn about anything or anyone. That's the worst part. I guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

The frustration...the frustration is unbelievable. I'm frustrated that I'm back here again. I'm frustrated that it takes so much effort just to pull through a day in a good mood. I'm frustrated that nobody seems to understand and everyone seems to be doing everything that rubs the wrong way. I'm frustrated because I still don't think I'm asking for much - my heart's always full and my door's always open but everyone just seems to take advantage of that. A friendship is not a one-sided relationship...it would be nice for other people to put effort in occasionally. I'm frustrated that I can't work people the way I used to. I'm frustrated that I let things get to me and that I cry over nothing. I'm frustrated that all these little things add up until I feel like I'm going to explode but I can't complain because to other people there's nothing to complain about.

People.

The worst part is feeling unappreciated. The worst part is hearing the lunch bell and knowing you've got nowhere to go, nowhere where you really feel home. The worst part is knowing you used to have a place, a place where you laughed and loved, but that place is gone, a bare and ugly silence, a nonevent near the war memorial. The worst part is having to accept how much of your life and your psychology depends on other people, and what happens when those people let you down. The worst part is knowing that you have friends littered all around the cliques but going anywhere near those cliques is kind of like being a virus attacking a white blood cell. Shit happens. The worst part is knowing that even your closest friends will treat you differently when people are watching. The worst part is knowing that I have to somehow be okay with that but I'm not, I'm really not.

But normally when I'm frustrated with people I'm angry. I'm furious. Or I'm heartbroken. And then I'm afraid I'm going to lose a friendship. And then I'm worried. But none of that happens anymore just...I'm just tired. I'm just so tired of everything and everyone going around in circles.

Today was one of those days. I'm just so sick and tired of being treated like this. I'm just so sick and tired of constantly being on edge, on having to force myself to see the bright side. I'm tired of throwing up and I'm tired of my pacemaker killing me. The little things, like a good mark on an assignment or a cute email from a friend...they used to be able to keep me going for weeks, just putting a smile on my face whenever times get tough. Not anymore.

I'm usually such a stubborn person that it's quite defeating to feel like giving up so easily. I'm fighting systems and people and it's hard not to feel alone. There are so many things people don't understand that I can't tell them and the stress is getting to me. I wish I could go back to a time when things weren't so convoluted, when I didn't have to endure the sordid to get the sweet.

There are ways to deal with it, I know that now. I've been taking time out, pampering myself with hot oil massages and researching on things that are interesting and people who give a damn, like Laci Green and the sex positive movement. I've been writing fearless lists and trying so hard to remind myself of the little things that make life great. I've been blogging - a lot - because it helps, when it hurts. I distract myself so I don't think about anything too much. I stay up late so that when I go to bed I pass out with exhaustion and I don't have any time or energy to cry. I write poems and little stories and talk to myself, walk down the corridors with my arms wrapped around myself, trying to hold it all in.

It is humiliating, to have to force yourself to do these things to push through when you know other people don't find things nearly so hard. It's humiliating to have people think that you're weak, that you need help, that you're overreacting. It's humiliating to be here again after just so recently conquering it.

I am determined not to let this get to me. I'll try as hard as I can, I'll do anything...I'm not going back to those dark places again.