Well, here I sit, trying to figure out what exactly it is that I want to say. Ever since junior year, my teacher has taught me that the most beautiful thing about writing is the honesty that's put into what you say. And so, I'm going to be completely honest tonight. I think it's important, and maybe it can help someone else like me.
As a lot of you know from reading my blogs or by just being around lately (which is doubtful), I haven't been all that happy. Yes, I have been okay enough to wear a smile and laugh and all. But the past week has been really difficult for me. I didn't know why at first. I thought I was tired one night and went to lay down, but I ended up staring at the ceiling with my eyes wide open. Ever since that night, I've been staying up nights and sleeping during days, and the more I've been doing that, the more I've been crying myself to sleep or just crying in general. It just hit me the other night why I was feeling so down and why my brain was being so loud. My best friend, Shane, went to Cali to see his dad. And without having him around, I began to realize just how lonely I was. There was no one calling me to see how my day was. There were no stories to listen to. He couldn't be there to hang out with me and make me feel like my normal, sane self. With each passing day, the truth became harder to swallow, and my chest hurt more and more. My thoughts began attacking me at night as the loneliness settled in, and I began to realize that the people who mattered most to me and whom I had shared some of my best memories with just weren't around anymore. They didn't come by to say hi. They didn't call or text me. And it was just abnormal. I also felt like some of those friends were keeping secrets from me, and that they weren't being honest. But mostly, the friends that stopped coming around were the friends that were at my house every other day and every weekend hanging out with me. But they're just not around now. And it really hurts.
I think Monday was when it really started getting to me. I had stayed up the previous night and was running on very little sleep. The little sleep I did get didn't add up to too much. So by the time I got up, it was 3:30 in the afternoon. Shane had told me the day before that he was coming over, but when I checked my phone, I had no texts or calls. I texted and called him but he didn't answer, and after a few hours he finally texted me and said he couldn't come over because he had to get his hair cut and had been at the mall. He asked if I was mad and I said no. But really, I think that because I was feeling so down Monday, him saying he wasn't coming by just added to the depression. So I didn't text him after that. I just wanted to go to bed and forget that I had ever woken up that day. My aunt was at my house though, so I couldn't. I had to stay up and eat and hang out, and when she left, I went to my neighbor's house with my mom to see her relatives. It was then that Shane texted me and said he was coming over Tuesday, and that he didn't want me to think he didn't want to see me and that he wasn't like my other friends who didn't wanna come over. So I felt better and fell asleep at midnight. But at four in the morning, my brain woke me up. So I got on Tumblr and reblogged a bunch of things, and then I tried to go to bed at six. But like most nights, my thoughts attacked me again and I began crying. After I got done with my tear fest, I fell asleep. It took two hours, but I did it.
Shane called at twelve yesterday afternoon and I got up and answered. He said he was on his way, and I was like "What time is it?" He said noon and I was like, "Oh my God," to which he replied, "Don't worry. I didn't shower either." Now, I just had to take the time to appreciate this comment to something that I had not even brought up in the conversation. He just casually threw it in there, like he meant to say, It's okay if you look like a hobo. It was my fault that I didn't tell you I was coming over beforehand and I'm totally fine with you having bed head and looking like crap. So, after a little internal laughter, he said that he was almost to my house, so I hung up and ran upstairs. He wasn't kidding. About a minute after I had made it up, the doorbell rang, and he walked inside with a smile and hugged me. We spent two and a half hours talking and laughing like we normally do, and sadly, we had to take him home at 2:30. After dropping him off, I began to talk to my mom about picking my friends up on Friday so we could have a girls day. She then began to talk about how she didn't want to drive out that far and that she was tired of always picking my friends up. I probably took it more personally than I should have, and the little happiness that I had, shattered. So I came home and went back to sleep. I had not eaten that day, and I was hungry, but I was so miserable that I didn't care. I cried myself to sleep again, this time crying more than I had that past week, and by the time I woke up, it was nearly five thirty. I got up to go upstairs and realized how weak I felt. I was dizzy and had stumbled around for a minute before catching my balance again, and the pain of the emptiness ripped through my stomach. I went upstairs and tried to eat food from every food group. Eggs. Shrimp. Cheese. Milk. Soup. A pb&j. By the time I finished those items, I was full. I came back downstairs and got online, and then began thinking about what I had just done to myself. I had deprived my body of food because I let my feelings take over. I let the loneliness eat me inside, and I suddenly realized what anorexia felt like. Ladies and gents, it hurts. And with my diabetes, starving myself was not a good thing to do.
I got into the shower around eight and began to really think to myself, because all thoughts involving the meaning of life either arise whilst in the shower, or on the toilet. As I let the hot water run down my back, I thought to myself, When have I ever given up? Why am I letting someone else control my well-being? And why in the hell am I depriving my body of its necessities? Depriving myself won't make me happy. I know that it won't because I've dealt with this before. What's wrong with me? So, after I got out of the shower, I did dishes and baked brownies, and now I'm sitting here realizing that life is going to go on whether I want it to or not. I always preach about how society can't have me, and here I am, letting society take its grip on me. I can't be the one to not practice what I believe in, because I have people who need me and who look up to me. If I let myself fall apart like this, and I let people see me fall apart like I let myself do, who are they going to believe in? And what will I stand for if I just decide to curl up and be miserable?
So, yes, I do have depression. It runs in my family. Will I take meds for it? No. I will beat it on my own. I need to keep myself busy with things that matter the most to me, and I need to accept the fact that I am going to start losing things that I'm used to having around. That's life. The good Lord giveth, and the good Lord taketh away. But it's not out of cruelty that these things go away. I think that people in our lives walk out of them because new people have to come in and give us a new chapter to start. It doesn't mean we can't learn something from the ones who are just too busy for us anymore. And it certainly doesn't mean to give up on everything completely. It just means that we have to grow used to change. If we don't, we will fall apart.
My "wife" Dani told me tonight that if we didn't have sadness, we wouldn't know what happiness is. And she's right. I recognize my emotional states because I've experienced them before. I've had depression this bad. And I've beaten it twice because I wouldn't let myself go down. This is just another battle for me, and I don't think it's bad to let yourself be unhappy and depressed sometimes. I hear so many people tell me, "Don't be sad! Be happy!" Why can't I feel sad? Why can't I be harsh to myself sometimes? What's wrong with having self-pity every now and then? Isn't that a healthy way to be? Both happy and sad? We tell people not to be down, but sometimes that's really all you can be, because things have to get worse before they can get better.
I'm still deeply depressed inside. But tonight, I feel like I'll be able to sleep easier. I feel like I've let myself hit rock bottom as far as being depressed goes, and like they say in the movie Bridesmaids, "Hitting bottom is a good thing, because there's nowhere to go but up." I'm beginning to climb back out of that emotionally depressed hole I dug for myself, and there's really no other choice for me, because I have to inspire this world. I can't do that if I don't let myself see the light in my life, and there's plenty of it. I'm just choosing to hide away.
Shane is here for me. Kristin is here for me. Dani is here for me. Katie is here for me. Emily is here for me. Kelly is here for me. Kellie is here for me. Taelor is here for me. And I know there are a lot of other people who are.
The one thing I've come to learn about myself is this: Even though I tear myself down, I always know I can build myself up again. There's always someone there worth doing it for, and as long as I know I can change the world, that's enough to motivate me to not give up.
There's only one Stephanie Michelle Pabst, and she has a job to do.
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