03 May 2017 - Instantaneous Regret
Evening from the patron saint of mediocrities.
Day 69 on Lexapro. It's been really challenging to remember to take my pill lately.
Mood: I don't even know. 5. 4. 3.5. They all work and they're all equally correct.
Well, today was the second day this week that I wasn't able to get to my morning classes because I was just too tired to get out of bed. At this point, I think that the combination of stress about academics, depression, and far too many nights on far too little sleep are colluding to make life impossible for me. I don't see much of a silver lining or a light at the end of the tunnel.
Some of the hatred I have for myself spilled over into a message to my mother, about how tired I am and how much I hate myself for not being able to go to class. She called me immediately after seeing that text...I explained how things have been, how I'm going to fail biochemistry, the crippling fear I have that this class will ruin my prospects of getting into graduate school. She listened while I cried and and worried and despaired, and for so many moments, I wanted to tell her that things are worse than they've ever been for me.
The words never came out.
Ultimately, though, she managed to reassure me that things were going to be okay. I talked about other things - about the upcoming trip to Scotland, about how the family is, about my annoyance with my biostatistics partner. Talking to her is not something I normally enjoy, but I needed it this morning.
I finally shared the academic resentment I have for Favorite Person with her, and I regretted it as soon as my fingers kissed the enter key to send the message. That's not a thing that she needed to hear directly from me - after all, how would hearing one of your friends say that they resent you make you feel? I can kick myself all I want for being an academic failure, for never being able to reach the goals and standards and bars I set for myself, but no one else needs to know how I feel about them in relation. I wish I could rewind time, listen to the voice in my head that said this is not something that you need to share, censor yourself, think it through and erase what I'd typed. I can't do that, though; I have to live with the consequences of what I've done. The perpetual fear that any given thing I say or do will erode what few relationships I have flared up again, when I considered what was said, and while I'm sure that she's not going to drop me like I'm hot, I'm still always wary. That fear...I've wondered for a long, long time now if it's a depression thing, or a me thing, or if there's even a difference between the two. What am I but my depression? A packet of information, and that is all.
Well, I suppose that that's it for today. Yet again, this post is late.
Maybe I'll be back on schedule tomorrow.
Step in front of a runaway train
Just to feel alive again
Pushing forward through the night
Aching chest and blurry sight
04 May 2017
Day 69 on Lexapro. It's been really challenging to remember to take my pill lately.
Mood: I don't even know. 5. 4. 3.5. They all work and they're all equally correct.
Well, today was the second day this week that I wasn't able to get to my morning classes because I was just too tired to get out of bed. At this point, I think that the combination of stress about academics, depression, and far too many nights on far too little sleep are colluding to make life impossible for me. I don't see much of a silver lining or a light at the end of the tunnel.
Some of the hatred I have for myself spilled over into a message to my mother, about how tired I am and how much I hate myself for not being able to go to class. She called me immediately after seeing that text...I explained how things have been, how I'm going to fail biochemistry, the crippling fear I have that this class will ruin my prospects of getting into graduate school. She listened while I cried and and worried and despaired, and for so many moments, I wanted to tell her that things are worse than they've ever been for me.
The words never came out.
Ultimately, though, she managed to reassure me that things were going to be okay. I talked about other things - about the upcoming trip to Scotland, about how the family is, about my annoyance with my biostatistics partner. Talking to her is not something I normally enjoy, but I needed it this morning.
I finally shared the academic resentment I have for Favorite Person with her, and I regretted it as soon as my fingers kissed the enter key to send the message. That's not a thing that she needed to hear directly from me - after all, how would hearing one of your friends say that they resent you make you feel? I can kick myself all I want for being an academic failure, for never being able to reach the goals and standards and bars I set for myself, but no one else needs to know how I feel about them in relation. I wish I could rewind time, listen to the voice in my head that said this is not something that you need to share, censor yourself, think it through and erase what I'd typed. I can't do that, though; I have to live with the consequences of what I've done. The perpetual fear that any given thing I say or do will erode what few relationships I have flared up again, when I considered what was said, and while I'm sure that she's not going to drop me like I'm hot, I'm still always wary. That fear...I've wondered for a long, long time now if it's a depression thing, or a me thing, or if there's even a difference between the two. What am I but my depression? A packet of information, and that is all.
Well, I suppose that that's it for today. Yet again, this post is late.
Maybe I'll be back on schedule tomorrow.
Step in front of a runaway train
Just to feel alive again
Pushing forward through the night
Aching chest and blurry sight
04 May 2017
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