I am the odd one.

I quit Kaldis. Emailed Matt and basically told him that it had been decided by me and everyone else in my life that I was too crazy to work. and I am....I'm just too crazy to work THERE.

I also got hired at Deer Creek today. Which is cool. I can handle this coffee shop, methinks.

I wish I could say that I felt better. I don't, particularly. I feel unstable and completely out of whack. I was excited about getting a job, and then two hours later was sobbing to Beck on my couch.

I am trying to find the balance between leaning on people and isolating. Everything in me wants to push everyone away. Not because I particularly want to be alone, but because being around a depressed person is fucking DEPRESSING. I am a burden and it kills me. Watching Beck cry because of me broke my heart. I don't like doing this.

That's the thing that people seem to not understand about this. It's more than just an "I'm unhappy about my circumstances." I mean...I am. But I'm also fully aware that I can change my circumstances. Hell, I'm changing them. Moving. New job. Florida. But I have a lot of people telling me that if I just change/remove/add xyz person-circumstance, I'll be happy. No. That's not it. Circumstances are a part of things, and working to change them is good for me. However, this is a medical condition. My biology isn't working, and no amount of changing circumstances is going to fix my biology.

I'm taking the pills. I hate them. I hate taking them. I want them to work...I also want them to NOT work so I don't have to take them. Medicine terrifies me. And right now, these pills are fucking with my head. I'm agitated, high strung, anxious, and just downright angry. Unjustifiably so. So now I have this new anxiety-rage on TOP of the depression. Which, I'm sure makes me a comPLETE joy to be around.

I try to downplay things, especially to the people that matter to me. I don't want to worry anyone. but I know I am. I know Beck doesn't like leaving me alone in the apartment. I know that my mum keeps calling "just to chat"...mostly to make sure I haven't done anything stupid today. My grandparents keep feeding me. I keep getting texts and facebook messages and phone calls from people. Once again, I know this means that everyone cares and that they're trying to help. I also feel pressured to make them think that I am actually ok. I feel pressure to put on the mask, the stupid mask of fake happiness that I can don so well normally.

I really would just like to make it 24 hours without crying,punching things, screaming,whining, or disappointing someone.

Especially that last one.

I don't know where to begin.

We know that your mental state has not been the best as of late. The usual depression that you have this time of year (and in general) has been spiraling for awhile. You hit a new low this weekend.

Just another day, Friday was. You woke up in a funk. Normal, sadly. You went and interviewed at Deer Creek, which went decently. You spent time with Beck. Normal. You got lunch with Jen. Fine. You went back to the apartment. You looked around. The idea of having to pack it up and start getting rid of things ate at you. You were lonely. Sad. You couldn't stop thinking about how all of this pressure, all of this sadness, anxiety, paranoia, circumstances--EVERYTHING--was falling on your shoulders. To the point where you were exhausted, broken, beaten in every way possible. You physically hurt, just sitting on the couch, staring at books and homework and bills and to-do lists. Everything felt so heavy, so unbearable. You realized that you could not do this for much longer. Something had to give. You spiraled down, hard. You get a text from Andy, who you had not heard from in months. He wants to get a drink. He has broken up with his girlfriend and has suddenly remembered that you only hang out when he is in need of someone to complain to. You go, against better judgment. You are not in a good place, and putting alcohol and Andy's whining in your system did not help. You leave a couple hours later, not drunk. Definitely safe to drive physically. Mentally, probably not. You find yourself praying that your car crashes. That someone hits you. You make it to the apartment in one piece. You are disappointed. You make another drink. Why not? You sit down. and something snaps. You realize that you cannot take anything anymore. You decide that God cannot fire you, because you quit.

You slice at yourself for awhile. You keep drinking. You look around for something to take, anything, to make all the shit swirling around stop. However, you also know, in the back of your insane mind, that this is not a good idea. The tiny sliver of rationale texts Beck. Tells her you need her, and to get there. She does. You decide that this environment is not good for you. You are not safe here, and you need to leave. You go to the hospital, where you are admitted to the psych ward.

They take your clothes and give you scrubs. They take your mittens, gloves, scarf, shoes. They take your phone and bag. They give you a room, but first you have to give a verbal agreement that you will not attempt to do any further damage to yourself. Fine, fair enough.

You sleep. A lot. When you are not sleeping, you are pacing around your tiny room, crying. You're bored. You find yourself thinking, among other things, that leaving a mentally disturbed person with nothing to do but be in their own mind is the WORST IDEA EVER. You ask for things to write on and with, you are denied. apparently you could hurt yourself with them. You talk to several people, answer lots of questions, and tell too many strangers very abbreviated versions of your life at this moment. You hate every second of it. You eat lunch with the other patients. You don't speak to them, they don't speak to you. it's not an ego thing. You just do not feel like talking. You do not feel like answering questions. You assume they feel the same way.

All this leads up to your final chat session with the head honcho, who reads your chart and all the notes from the half dozen other people that have asked you questions, and basically tells you that you need therapy and drugs. He tells you that you will be given a prescription for anti-depressants and an anti-anxiety pills, then, after asking about your sleeping habits, prescribes a sleep aid. Then tells you that he is releasing you out into the world again.

This news makes you happy and terrified at the same time. You are ready to get out and have your freedom again...however, you weirdly enjoy the simplicity of being in. The outside world suddenly seems so giant, and you, so teeny.

You wish that you had some sort of mind-blowing epiphany from all this. You don't. You wish that you could say you felt better. You do, sort of. You also acknowledge that this could happen again. You wish that things would magically fix themselves. You realize that they can't and won't. You have to work for it.

So.
Now begins the work, I guess.

Schmeh.

Ben was amazing. AMAAAAZING.
I had fun with Becky, but honestly, I almost wish I had gone it alone...or with someone who enjoys Ben Folds as much as I do. (She looked bored, and I felt bad.)

He played "Evaporated", which I never expected to hear live...and it was amazing. This is my favorite Ben song, and has a lot of weird, emotional meaning to me. I might have cried during it. Felt stupid for doing so after the fact, but...very few people seem to understand my attachments to music and what they do to me. Which is why going to concerts with me is always strange. I'm aware. It's a side of me that few people see...the side of me that is genuinely happy in the moment.

I need to get caught up on things. I'm behind on my physics class...unintentionally. I should look at AM/PM better next time. [Had a lab that I thought was due at midnight tonight...it was due at noon. Found out around 5pm.] I have a million and one phone calls I need to return...although now it'll be hard since my phone broke and I lost numbers. again.

I've had two job opportunities arise in the past couple of days: one with Jen, working at the Maryville cafeteria. This sounds boring, and I'm sure it will be, however, the pay's decent, and I'd be able to get hours AND the job ends in May. That'd be convenient in that my leaving wouldn't hurt anyone. The other is with Becky, at a coffeeshop down Clayton. They're on the hunt for morning people, the pay's better than Kaldi's, and I'd get to actually make coffee and be useful. I've filled out the application for Deer Creek Coffee, and I'll go talk to them Friday. Either way, I'm excited to be able to GTFO of Kaldi's.

With all the snow days and whatnot, it'll be hard to get back into the swing of things, but I'm trying. Worked at Wehrles tonight. Tomorrow, a mid at Kaldis. Friday, I'm off, job hunting, packing, laundry. The weekend is owned by both coffee shops. Might be kicking it with Jen for the superbowl.

I really need to start getting on this whole moving business. It's just hard to scrape up the desire to once again pack up my life.