I’m depressed. It’s gotten to the point where I have to admit it, at least to myself, because it’s effecting my life so profoundly. The worst part about being so sad is that I have no reason to feel this way, my life is great and I’m about to head off on this great adventure. I should be over the moon, but instead I’m quite the opposite. When I’m not working, I feel anxious and reluctant to be at home. I think about all the things I could do with my free time, about all the things I need to do before I leave the country and the closer it gets to the date the more I procrastinate. Instead of getting organized I binge drink and chain smoke and indulge in copious amounts of weed only to pass out into a restless sleep void of rapid eye movement. On the nights that I actually go to bed sober I toss and turn, restless, my mind goes over my to-do list and I start to panic. When I finally fall asleep (perhaps at 3 am?) I have crazy dreams. In the morning I stare blankly at my own reflection and wonder who the girl looking back is, because she’s not me; she has huge black pillows under her eyes, her skin is riddled with acne, hair unwashed and unkempt and she never smiles, not once.
My anxiety is not entirely due to my travel woes, I feel anxious about dying alone without ever doing anything with my life and having no one to blame but myself. I’ve been so insecure lately especially concerning my appearance. Stress has destroyed my skin: my cheeks are covered in acne, I’m talking huge cysts that cause me physical pain. I’ve seen dermatologist after dermatologist and everything they prescribe is only a temporary solution. I’ve always struggled with breakouts, but never like this. I feel so helpless so I pick endlessly at the pimples; it’s as if I’m punishing them for invading my face. It’s gotten to the point where I hate leaving my house because I don’t want people to see me. I hate serving and having people stare at my face all day, because I constantly feel like they’re judging me.
I bemoan the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in what seems like a lifetime, but the truth is even if I had an opportunity to have sex I would probably turn it down. I don’t feel sexy, my confidence is at an all time low and I don’t want to be in such a vulnerable situation. I think about the last couple men I’ve been with and how badly they disappointed me and I just don’t want to put myself through it again. So instead I bitch and complain about how I can’t even give it away while making no real effort to do anything about it. Story of my life…
What’s wrong with me? I wanted to be this strong confident woman who was happy being alone, who was patient, who didn’t need a man to have a fulfilling life. Will I ever become her? Or am I doomed to make the same mistakes? Can people ever really change? Or maybe I’m just too lazy to put in the effort necessary to become a better me. I don’t know anymore.
Last night, unwilling to go home, I slammed a bottle of wine and literally cried to Kennedy. “Wahhh life is tough, feel sorry for me, my life sucks.” The usual. This morning I woke up with a start. My mouth was parched and I was sprawled across Kennedy’s bed. Flash backs of my antics began to flood my hazy brain: constant crying, whining, general self-pity. I was supposed to get a ride with Kennedy to the lodge so I could retrieve my abandoned bike, but I was alone. She had left without me. I tried to recover my missing phone and fell into hysterics.
Don’t fall apart over this stupid shit I lectured myself. Pull yourself together woman!!!
I resolved to make today a better day. I put on my jeans and located my phone. I washed my face and tried to make my appearance somewhat presentable. I filled up a plastic water bottle and started down the street, thumb pointed out towards the passing cars in the hopes of catching a ride. A parks worker picked me up and, to my delight, did not attempt to engage in small talk, but instead drove me to my destination in silence. I rode my bike home in the pouring rain letting the water wash over me. When I got home I made a pot of coffee and sat down to eat a real breakfast. I took a long shower and organized the chaos that is my bedroom.
This is why I’m depressed, I told myself I eat greasy restaurant food every day, I drink and smoke excessively, I’ve stopped exercising, my surroundings are bedlam, I don’t sleep enough and I don’t take any time for myself. This needs to change. You owe yourself more.
Work was fairly slow and I made it through the day in pretty good spirits. I came home and had a real dinner and now I’m here: sitting in my warm bed, writing out my thoughts, working through my issues while a near-hurricane storm rages outside.
It’s never too late to try again, tomorrow’s always a new day.