Pitfall

Wipe them away dear child

No one wants to see your tears

Hide your scars

You’re alone in this battle

Smile real big

There’s more pain to bear

It’s a long way down

And even further to stand back up

Just when you think you hit the wall

You’ll fall on another stone

No one said it’d be easy

Didn't you know that dear child

Didn't you know no one cares

Didn't you know you’re all alone

Wipe away your tears

Smile a little more

Pretending your world isn't crashing

Cover your gaping wounds

There’s no one left to help

All that’s left is the dark.

More like thoughts of a pissed off depressed woman....

I thought things would be different by now. I seriously thought things would be better by now. Maybe not so damn difficult. But if things are only getting worse lately, then where’s the hope that it ever will get better. Is there even any point in hope? Sure as hell doesn’t feel like there is.

When I was in high school, I dreamt of days that I wouldn’t be riddled with depression. I also knew it was going to be a battle. But I also knew back then the it wasn’t always going to be up front and center. I knew there would be periods of time that I was truly happy. But I thought these periods would last longer than two days. And that’s a good run.

I never expected life to be easy. Hell, I knew it’d be hard. I knew life itself would only get harder. But, what I honestly thought would get better was me. I seriously had plans for myself. College was supposed to teach me all the things I would need to know to start a great career. Instead, I’m a college drop-out (with the government hounding me over the $50,000 student loan debt for a degree I never even got close to getting) working in a restaurant that I hate. I loathe it. I used to love it. I loved the easy-going atmosphere. I loved that I was great at my job and that others thought so too. But what am I now? I’m the only person who does my job correctly. One other person is trained to do it and my boss hates scheduling him to do it because he doesn’t do his job. But guess what, he still has a job. And I can bet anyone’s ass he makes at least around the same measly pay that I do. That measly pay that doesn’t pay my bills. Much less, gives me gas money and food money. I haven’t been grocery shopping in months because I can’t afford to. I have a credit card maxed out. Not from huge expenditures. From putting gas in my car, and food in my stomach. Oh, that’s the same measly pay that is less than over half of the employees that sit on their ass while I do my job and their jobs for them. I used to feel appreciated for my job. Now I’m used. To them, I’m the errand bitch. But enough about my horrible job because I know what everyone is thinking when they hear me complain about my job. Just get another one. News flash, I’ve tried. Totally unsuccessful.

So why don’t I try to branch out and work towards my career anyway? Because that is also panning out to nothing. Sure, I get little photo gigs here and there. Sure my culinary knowledge is slowly expanding. But here’s the problem. No one invests in a 22 year old college drop-out female.

No one seems to think I’m worth the time or money. I know I’d be damn good at running my own business. Be it a studio, a catering business, a food truck, or even a restaurant. But no one else finds the same conclusion I do. Sure, we live in a world where women are becoming more “equal” to men. But there’s still the problem that not only am I a female but I have an entire list of facts about me that knock me further and further down the totem pole. 1. I’m 22. 2. I have no degree. 3. I don’t have a manager title behind me. 4. I’m not pretty. 5. I’m not skinny. 6. I live in a shit hole. 7. I don’t know anyone that matters. 8. It’s never been easy for me to makes friends, ergo, I have never been popular or well-liked.

Conclusion? Why the hell do I even hope anymore that I’m going to get out of this shithole of a life I currently have? 

Neverending

Sometimes, I dont know how I keep going. Lately it really has been one thing after another. On top of the work turmoil, having no money, my cat dying, and more money problems incruing, I still have the overwhelming sense of depression creeping up. I dont think it will ever end. Its a vicious cycle. I finally climb out of the hole just to have problems throw me back in. Then, the depression makes it worse than it really is. Its really hard to cope with. I've always been hopeful of a better future. But each day that passes is a piece of the future becoming a part of my past. They say to be the Change you want to see in the world. They say if you don't like how it is, change it. But its not always possi le to just give yourself money. Death is not inevitable. Bad luck comes, no matter who you are. So, once again, how am I supposed to see that light at the end getting brighter when there are vines of darkness pulling me backwards, more and more every day.

Lost

I just want to write. I just want to let my emotions roll. I want to get so lost in an idea or a thought that I lose hours just typing. I used to all the time. I remember when I was in middle school and high school that I would have millions of little spurts of ideas. Story ideas. Or even just two lined phrases that weren't connected to anything I'd ever written. They felt like these little spurted phrases were a part of something bigger that I hadn't written yet. I used to feel like I couldn't get all of my ideas on paper because there were so many.
Now, it feels like I could stare at a blank piece of paper all day long and never get an idea. Sure, there have been a couple spurts over the past couple of years but nothing in comparison to how it used to be. I remember getting in trouble in school because my teacher heard me flipping papers so much. I would be writing notes on the lessons(and keeping up with the teacher) while writing away at my stories. When I got in trouble, I didn't stop writing, I just became more sneaky about it. I started writing stories in the spare spaces of the notes I was taking. Looking at one of those pages, you'd see my carefully outlined notes, perfect for me to study from. Then, all around those notes were much smaller written words, forming lines and lines of whatever story I was working on that day. I've never finished a story. Well, I say I have but it was an extremely short story(about 3 pages long) about almost nothing. I even titled it "Nothing Never Known". It was and extremely depressing story. And it's nothing spectacular. It's just the only story I've ever finished.
Sometimes it would bother me that I'd never finished a story. I always used to say, "I just want to finish a story." Now, I just want to write again. Really write.
I feel like the emotions I used to have that led to me writing and kept me writing have been shut off. I don't know how to turn them back on. I'm slightly afraid to because that was such a dark time of my life. Not that I haven't had dark times since then, but they seemed different. My dark times back then were filled with feelings, even if it was always feeling sad. My most recent dark times were filled with numbness.

Afraid of Success

I think I’ve finally had enough. I think I’ve finally had enough feeling like pure shit. I’ve had enough feeling like I have no energy. Not feeling like doing anything for days on end. I think I’ve had enough of the depression and the anxiety. I’ve had enough of it consuming me. I’ve had enough feeling sorry for myself, and feeling like I’m just not good enough and never will be. I’ve simply had enough. But now where do I go? How do I pick myself up and begin that journey upwards? How will I even be sure that I can make it to that place. I’m not even sure I’ve ever been to a place of happiness and feeling truly satisfied with who I am and where I am. I’m always setting these goals for myself. Everyone says goals are great. But what if you’re the type of person who, when you get close to a goal you change it up and push the goal even further away. I’ve always been so scared of failing. But maybe I’ve always been afraid of success too, and that it just won’t be enough. Maybe that’s why I’ve never climbed out of this hole. It eventually got so comfortable and the top of it just looked so scary that I decided to settle in for the long haul. But I can’t help knowing that I’m really missing out on something big. My life. 

Disappointment

I think I’ve been focusing so much on how hard my life is lately that it’s taken the biggest toll of all. And it’s not that it’s hard because I live on my own, pay my own bills, work as much as possible, and still go to school(although that is rather tough right now). I think that the hardest part about it is feeling like I’m constantly fighting. Fighting for more work hours. Fighting for more money. Fighting to just get school done with. But beyond that, I feel like I’m constantly fighting to be recognized. Fighting for people to support me and be proud of me. Don’t get me wrong, I do have support. I especially have it from the person it means most(my mother). But there’s this entire other half of support that is completely missing. It’s like a bridge that half collapsed. The word “disappointment” is ringing so loudly in my head that I can’t shut it off. It’s a word that’s hard to hear, hard to see, and most certainly hard to feel. It’s a word that I can’t recover from. It’s a word I’m fighting whole-heartedly against and I’m running out of energy fast. It takes me back. First stop is too long ago to dredge up. But the next stop is recent. The next stop is the most recent fight that I’m still trying to bounce back from losing. It’s the fight of two years. The feeling of just completely losing two years. Well, not completely. But still, it’s the fact that I feel the need to constantly prove myself and I have nothing to show for those two years other than some things I learned and the abuse of my heart. No, I am still not over everything that happened those two years. Because ever since then(it’s only been a year) I feel like I am still trying to regain everything I lost. I separated myself from every situation I was in. I “became a true adult” thinking that that would finally, finally get the attention of everyone and finally make them stop using me and start appreciating me. But here I am, coming quickly on the “one year anniversary” of the summer that I changed my entire life. And what do I feel like I have to show for it? Someone being disappointed in me. I’m about to turn 21(in 5 days) and it’s a time that you should celebrate. Yet, this word is resounding loud in my head. Disappointment. I’ve been told many times that there will always be those people you can never please. But why does it have to be the entire half of what should always be someone’s support system?  

Block or Clog?

I took the first step today. I made a phone call. Now I just have to make another phone call. And then actually go. Maybe, just maybe I can finally get all of this under control. Over the years, I've managed to bat away depression. I've managed to push it away. Yet, even when I thought it was gone, it was still lingering. It was looming over me. Waiting until that moment of weakness so it could come sweeping in on me. And it's done it once again. Sadly, this time I have medicine for it. I have the means to go and find solutions to beat it. Yet it's the one demon that lives inside me. I don't want it here. Yet, it's been a part of me for so long. It used to be just a visitor. Now, it's ingrained in me. I don't know if it can ever go anywhere. Some days, I'm scared of it leaving forever. It's the one constant. In a way, it's my release. It gives me a reason to just cry. To just lay in bed and sleep. To just not be anything for a day. I've always believed that sad emotions are easier to portray then happy ones. I already feel like I've lost a big part of me. I feel as though I've lost my way with words. I feel as though nothing flows anymore. Not even a trickle most days. What will I do when the day comes that the brick wall is completely erected. Where will I turn when I've lost my very last word. Will something replace it? Or will I be left with the shadows of once felt like my safety net. Yet, I can't live in the shadows. I can't rely on my excuses. It terrifies the hell out of me. But, maybe, just maybe, there will be something to fill the sadness that took over. Just maybe...maybe there is hope for happiness. Maybe it's not a block at all but maybe it's just a clog. Maybe there is so much waiting to come out of me that it got stuck and then it got lost, got tired of fighting for life. Maybe finally talking will bring my words back to me.

Carelessly Shutting Down

I don't know what to think anymore. The things I used to love just seem so mundane lately. The things I couldn't wait to do, I just push aside and do nothing instead. Hours on end I lay around, watching Hulu Plus. It's not just the rainy days that I feel down. It's nearly everyday. I've been on anti-depressants for a year now. Sure, at first they worked wonders. I felt like I never needed the anxiety pills then I felt like I didn't need the anti-depressants either. Sure, I've been horrible about taking them lately. But it's so much more than that. I feel as though the life has been drained out of me. I want to cry. But why? I want to just curl up and go to sleep, yet I'm not sleep-deprived today. I want to blame everything for my problems. My job at the restaurant(well there is no denying it is pure hell). The college I transferred to simply because I couldn't afford to stay where I already was(and I still can't make myself like the new school). The place I live(sure, the apartment is a great place but the other person can't stand being near me anymore over dumb issues.) The fact that I even have two jobs because I can't afford to live off one and yet I'm still struggling to make ends meet. The fact that the person that I love lives an hour away from me and it is so hard to find time to drive there, even if just for one night. All these things wear me down. But yet, I'm not so sure they are the only problem. I've had issues in the past. I've struggled with depression. Yet, I can't remember if I ever felt this low for such elongated periods of time. My doctor tells me I need to see a therapist. He's right. Yet, when and how am I going to fit one into my life. I'm terrified to even begin the search. I don't want to pick and choose through therapists, trying them on until I find just the right fit. I used to have so many ways to cope with stress. I used to write all the time. Now, I barely write. When I do write, it's just short stints that never go anywhere, mixed in with everything else going on and lost in the rubble. I used to avert my stress and sadness to other stuff. I used to busy myself. I used to read all the time. Now, I just sit here or lay on my bed and watch tv shows online. I don't do anything anymore. I don't even want to cook anymore. I'm spiraling downward and I know it yet I don't want to do anything about it. I just want to sit here and wallow in my sadness. Those papers the counseling center at school gave me for references to places in the city? Still sitting in that draw right beside me. I'm trying to make myself pull it out. Make myself actually begin the search. Yet, it's just one more thing I have to do. One more thing I can put off, inevitably too. I'm shutting down. I feel bad about it. I feel as though I'm shutting off the people who actually care but I can't stop myself. I've cut myself off. I can't care about the things I once cared about. I'm fighting to keep my passion for photography. It's still there and kicking. It's about the only thing still kicking me to do something other than work and sleep. Yet, it's only kicking. And I'm still not doing.

We both say "why cant i have love like that". Yet the difference is, you can easy have it. And im still stuck here in dreamland.

Crumbling Control

Control. Some people love it. Some people hate it. Some people can't live without it. For those, they'll do anything to keep it. When they don't have it, they spin out of control. It's like the slightest loss of control can send a control-freak into a control-less downward spiral. They begin to pick fights with anyone and everyone. They have to have the upper-hand, even if it's all for the wrong reasons and will soon crumble out from under them. It's another one of those vicious cycles.