Why do I feel this way?
Recently, it's seemed to me that half the world is on happy pills. Half the world is on antidepressants because without them, they are oh so sad and unstable. Oh golly, no one should have to deal with unhappiness; on to the pills!
Okay, that sounds bitchy as hell, I know. People I know and love are on antidepressants: my father, my best friend, and various sundry friends and adults in my life. I know that these people take pills because they make them feel better. They aren't idiots, and I'm not stereotyping antidepressant-takers as mentally deficient.
But just as litigation is on a serious rise in this country, so is the average hypochondriac. Physical illness alone is bad enough: every sniffle or cough is the swine flu, and every ache or twinge is multiple sclerosis. My aunt had breast cancer, and it was HORRIBLE. I have no sympathy for people who take a bottle of antibiotics for a head cold, which, by the way, is a fucking virus. And thus, I have limited patience for those who complain about taking their happy pills when I have some of the world's worst mood swings and depression that makes me want to put a fucking pistol to my head sometimes, and I have never taken an antidepressant in my life.
Again, I know how elitist and petty I sound. But seriously, in a country where we're all pretty self-obsessed, this fake-depression thing is out of control. IT'S CALLED A BAD MOOD, PEOPLE. IT'S NOT DEPRESSION IF YOU'RE JUST PISSED OFF BECAUSE YOU'RE BORED. I'm not claiming to have clinical depression, or to have any authority on how other people feel when I don't know a damn thing about them; but I will swear of a stack of anything you want that the way I feel sometimes is irrational, completely unmerited, and so awful that lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling is the only thing I can do without making myself feel worse. Oh, that and blast "What You Own".
Tomorrow is my birthday. My family places a lot of importance on birthdays, mostly because of my dad. When I was growing up, birthdays were a huge deal. Now, I feel like the entire world is a fucking letdown. And it's NOT, because I went to Rocky Horror last night with a bunch of awesome people and there was a lovely little birthday celebration beforehand for Miranda, Kate, and me. I'm taking to a Red Sox game this week. I might even plan something else. All this great stuff has and is happening, and all I want to do is lie down and sleep. Except I can't sleep, so I want to lie down and stare at the ceiling.
What I feel like right now? I feel like my mom and dad aren't really very interested in me, and I'm going to ruin my own fucking life because I CAN'T FUCKING FORCE MYSELF TO DO MY SUMMER HOMEWORK, and I don't want to go to work because everything there is just a reminder of how everyone else prefers everyone else to me, and how I'm so annoying and weird and what have you that my friends there barely tolerate me and love each other so much more than me and I'll never be good enough, and I feel so fucking pathetic for thinking this way and feeling this way that it all just gets worse, and everyone else is gone and I'm a horrible friend to the wonderful people that I don't appreciate, and I'm lazy and everyone else is too good for me, and the rest of the world is ashamed of me and I'm ashamed of me and I will go through the rest of my life feeling like I've disappointed everyone and I should fucking be ashamed of myself and they have every right to do ashamed of me as well, and I'm such a whiny self-centered bitch because I can't spare a fucking thought outside of my own stupid problems and I seek attention and everyone hates that about me, and no one wants to listen to me be a fucking idiot, so I will shit the fuck up.
I bet you didn't actually want to know, did you.
Can this all be done? Please? Can all of this be fucking done? PLEASE? Please please please please please please. Let this all be done.
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Hey so... your beginning? Everything I have ever wanted to say on that matter. Just so you know you are not the only one who thinks this world overreacts to everything.
ReplyDeleteWe are so afraid of dying- we forget that little by little we are dying each day. Sorta sad, but so is everything we encounter in our lives.
You my dear- are going to write me a laundry list of all the things you love about yourself, and others love about you. That you have either felt or been told.
Kapeesh? =)
Don't worry, I'm having issues with my damn summer homework as well ("What summer homework?")
ReplyDeleteLet me start by responding to your thesis on dying in America. I agree that we've become more hypochondriatic (word?) as time has passed. My dad's a doctor; he's of the school of thought that "nah, it's nothing bad." Personally, I agree with him. Forget to slather sunscreen on your fingertip? Oh, well, you're getting your vitamin D. (Don't get me wrong, my uncle died of melanoma a few months ago. It was horrible. I understand the importance of sunscreen quite well -just not the dunk-yourself-in-it-until-your-body-is-totally-white concept.)
Now onto antidepressants... everyone in my family has some form of depression. Me, dysthymia and anxiety. My mom, dysthymia. My dad, anxiety. My sister, anxiety. My grandma, depression. My other grandma, depression. I've been on Zoloft since I was in first grade, and I can't imagine life without it. If I miss even a day of my pills, well, that's bound to be a crappy day. And I've had some depressive episodes that are more moderate-to-major as well, and those are awful. Purely hellish. So I fully understand the importance of antidepressants. However, like you, it annoys the hell out of me when people go around spouting off words like "depressed" and the like, and acting like feeling sad is cause for alarm. Okay, fine, I partly feel this way because as someone with clinically diagnosed depression, it belittles my symptoms when someone having a bad day wants to go on meds. But you get my point here.
And finally, I'm with Becky on this one -you BETTER write that list!! :D