January – Wow!

[Before I begin, I’d like to mention that I was actually working on a post about Myers Briggs types, but apparently WordPress didn’t autosave my draft for me, I’m not sure if I’ll go back on that 2000~3000 word draft…Thank you to all the friends who were willing to take the test for me and provide me with feedback on their type!]

January was (is?) a crazy ride.

I started on three medications in two different forms (pills, ointment), I’m seriously reconsidering restarting therapy, I fall out of a little crush I had…Less than 4 weeks into this year and I have a feeling 2015 will be interesting for sure.

There are things I don’t want to say yet because unfortunately, I’m still not sure how I feel about it, and that I don’t feel safe enough to say it yet. I will! Just not today, and probably not the first half of this year.

I haven’t been feeling well. Physically and emotionally. I wake up most mornings feeling like I have a fever, I get migraines even more often now (second bottle of advil…), and I was just told that my dad’s family has a history of strokes, blood clots, and high blood pressure. One of the medications I’m taking poses a risk for people with a history like my own, so I’m hoping that I don’t get any of the terrible side effects. Meep!

I will probably restart therapy this quarter. I’ll be calling in tomorrow to the office I went to last year to continue treatment. “Treatment.” Like there’s something wrong with me. I was talking to a friend just a few days ago, and I told him that I’m the sacrifice type, that as long as I’m useful to someone in some way I’m fine with being taken advantage of. He told me that that’s a shit ideal, and I completely agree. I’m either going to have to grow out of this mindset or watch myself self destruct. Funny enough, a friend I have is helping me grow out of it by making me realize that no matter how nice you try to be to people, most people will still treat you like assholes.

I have depression. I’ve been avoiding this for a long time, but I can’t avoid it any longer.
(I might even have anxiety mixed in there too.)

I want to be happy. I want to feel the happiness not just in my smile, but seeping deep into myself, to my heart. I want to cry freely, when I’m watching a sad movie, or I’ve just been handed great news. I want to be able to say “no,” not just tell myself that this is all I’m good for, that it’s alright to bend over for other people.

I want to love myself, and spread this love to my friends and family, to the girl who just bought a textbook from me, to the upperclassman who games with me sometimes, even to the people who don’t care about my feelings when they say hurtful things… I’d like to be able to look back at myself ten years from now and say, “I’m a different person now,” and look at the past in fondness.

“I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”



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