What was that one time you told a huge lie and kinda got away with it?
Can I be real for a minute here? Usually I work hard at not lying. Ask for something factual and I will tell you the answer as factually as I can. Ask for my opinion and you will get it whether you like it or not. I’ve lost friends from this.
I did finally think of a big one I get away with a lot though.
When people ask me how I am doing, I don’t know if it’s social training or what… but I say, “I am fine.”, smile, and ask how they are. I say this even when I am sad, depressed, or having a lot of anxiety.
It’s not that I am intentionally lying. It’s just that saying “I am fine” is so much easier than being honest. Who really wants to hear, “Horrible! I am so stressed from no income, no one will hire me, and I have no idea how I am going to survive with all this pain and the epilepsy… and I really miss driving!”
I really don’t think anyone wants to actually hear how I am really doing … but, I also can’t think of a way to say, “Life sucks but I keep slogging along.”
Mind if a ramble for a minute? Well, I am going to anyway.
There are days, like the other day, where depression just knocks me down for the count and I find it impossible to do anything. I cry a little every day. It’s not that I need medication, it’s just that I was a lot more excited about life before Dr. Douche reminded me of how little value I have. I STILL have a hard time with that. I mean, if that is how other people see me, how much worth do I really have? Am I really just the crazy person that doesn’t deserve a say so in her life? Is that really how people see me?
Little things like that will send me in depression quickly. I really don’t feel I have much self-worth. I know other people love me and think I am amazing and talented. I do not though. And every time I start to feel like that, some asshole comes along that reminds me how delusional it is to think of myself as anything other than dirt.
I fully understand that this is a form of society ideology that I am imposing on myself. I get that. But after years of being put down and ridiculed for so long, trying to love yourself if very hard. It really doesn’t take much to remind me how low I feel on the totem pole of life. There are all the animal guides that show… then there is me. I am the one under the dirt that no one sees.
This is how I see myself. Why? Because I feel like no matter how hard I try, I will never get anywhere in life. Because I am so depressed lately that the only thing I get remotely excited about is planning my homelessness. I should really write a post about that.
Every day I am reminded of how hard it is to get anything done because I hurt so bad. Every day I struggle to feel alive. Every day I look at my house and wish I could get up and organize or rearrange just a little and I know I can’t and never will be able to again. Every day, lately, I have cried a little because I either hurt too much or I feel hopeless.
I can’t force myself to feel joy about anything anymore because when I do, I feel pretentious. I almost feel like if I have a good day, someone is going to knock me back in my place.
Even when I am poor, it’s like I have to actively be poorer just to make others happy. Since I am on food stamps (something that kills my soul a little every day) people flip out if I have a cell phone. No matter that I paid for it and my ex keeps it on for me. I should wear rags and sit on the corner with a little tin cup shaking what little change I got from passing strangers. Society views on poverty are truly fucked up.
I almost feel like I would feel better about myself if I was homeless and living in my van. I wouldn’t be asking for anything. I wouldn’t be bothering anyone. I would be able to live off the food stamps I have each month. Or not. I would have to work on that. If I was homeless, I wouldn’t have to worry about rent. I could be self-sufficient so anything I sold that I made would be income, not just throwing it towards things I can’t even begin to afford.
But, I digress. I really do not feel good about who I am anymore. I was doing a lot better before Dr Douche decided to remind me how low I am on the totem pole. Up until he decided to show me what a worthless piece of trash I am, I was actually feeling hopeful.
I know that is delusional thinking. Anytime I start to think positive, I am put down for it. So I do get that. I have had “delusional” hurled at me more than once. I know positive thinking is delusional thinking. I’ve heard it so many times. It drove my ex crazy that I would think positive.
But being depressed all the time sucks too. I don’t know how to balance it out. If I am too positive, I am delusional. If I am firmly based in reality and openly accept it, I am depressed. Where is the happy medium?