hello

I’m here because I don’t want to die. I want to believe that I have something to offer this world, and that my current suffering will lead to a day where I can turn it around and use it to help others. Thing is, I’ve been depressed my whole life. I feel like from the moment I was born, I was given a cluster of psychiatric diagnoses instead of a personality. I was a problem to be solved, not a person to be loved. I was not human; I was merely human labels. Autism at first, because I’d rock endlessly in place. Then  bipolar, because I’d self-harm as early as two if I didn’t get my way, then two minutes later be sunshine and smiles. Then I was ADHD because I was restless and energetic as I grew a bit older. Then Autistic turned to Asperger’s when it showed that I had poor social skills, low emotional intelligence, yet an apparently advanced intellect.

Now I’m just simply here. I just turned 30 back in May and I still don’t really know who I am. I’ve rejected almost all of these labels to try and find myself without them, but now I’m not sure what for. Two years ago, I quit therapy, weaned myself off of my meds, and I grew substantially. I actually found and kept work. I learned how to cook and how to eat well for my mood management. I began considering a potential career in nursing that would focus on nutrition for mental health.

Now it’s circling around. I’m having a hard time letting go of the past. I finally learned how to forgive my mom and truly stop being angry with her, which is good. We’ve become friends. I’ve recognized that she only ever meant to help me and that she’s loved me deeply and has worked hard for me to get where I am at all. This woman used to fight with my high school nearly every day for each year I was there. Just so that I could graduate by the skin of my teeth. At that time, I could barely leave the house.

But I just can’t let go of the pain of being denied an identity. Not only by the imposition of labels before I had a chance to assert any kind of a personality, but also by bullies, who were constant throughout my entire schooling. I even had a few years of school where the ENTIRE CLASS ganged up on me and teachers did little to nothing. I learned very early on that authority is very often not on your side. It doesn’t care.

I don’t have health insurance or a car. I can barely keep up with my rent and bills. I have a feeling that something is wrong either with my sleep cycle or my thyroid but I don’t know how I can get it checked when I can’t save a dime and Medicaid denied me. I feel exceedingly anxious and hopeless as the days go on. Life should be good now. I have a wonderful boyfriend that I stomp on with my stupid spells of sadness. He should leave me, but he doesn’t, and I’m too scared of being alone to let him go. I feel so selfish, so desperate. He is always holding me, crying for me. Why I don’t know. I wish I had the heart to do what’s right.

I don’t want to die but there was a time when dying was all I desired. All I would think about. It has proven the hardest to curb that broken record thought cycle. It’s eating me up and I don’t know whyat to do. I cry at the drop of a hat. I feel so bad for my boyfriend. I keep trying to hang onto the little things, like my mom’s new kitten or my next cup of green tea as pointless as that sounds. Food feels more like a ball and chain each day though. At first it was miraculous that it could be so healing for me. Now it is frustrating that if I have the most minor of sugar crashes, my mind goes into a tailspin and there I am pacing and agitated and ready to break.