Monday, April 24, 2006

Do you sometimes wish people knew?

I came here to blog nearly a year ago. I thought it would be a place where I could feel free to talk about whatever I felt, you know, the things you can't tell just anyone but somehow, here, you can tell everyone. Instead, I started blogging as a way of communicating with a few people who I didn't know well but needed to know better. That's been a great benefit of blogging... unfortunatly, it also caused me to guard my posts and I don't want to do that because I feel like I need this release. So, inspired by Dooce and Haggis, two women who are open about their struggles with two very different illnesses, my own struggles will become a part of this place. If you are uncomfortable, please don't stick around. If I know you and this will affect our already weird relationship... please don't stay here. I value the friendships we've built here.

So, here is my first post about my "emotional struggles"
As evidenced in the above photo, things have gotten worse. I haven't done anything like this for ten years, I haven't felt like this in as long. I feel so embarassed to be doing something I associate with my high school self. It'd be like having a BFF to play MASH with and being totally serious about it!
I think my struggles with depression started at a pretty young age, of course nobody recognized it as such and so I became the crazy one in the family. In a lot of ways, I think I became a sort of scapegoat as well. If I'm fighting with my dad, it's because I am lazy and have a bad attitude not because he's controlling and has an explosive temper and an innate mistrust of anything female thanks to being raised by an alcoholic mother and schizophrenic grandmother. So I did not receive any kind of counseling until I was 17 and *wouldn't* stop cutting myself (because I was so rebellious). I was sent to counseling when my parents *threatened* to get me counseling and I said okay, please. The counselor I saw was so ineffective, we never talked about anything beyond how I was feeling at the time. I think we had ten sessions, ending when I realized why I was self-harming. It was a major breakthrough, although the counselor didn't even realize it. I saw her a year later at a church thing and she introduced me to the famous guest speaker she was chatting with as a former client...nice, huh?
I think that's as far as I will go for now...I do plan to lay out my whole history here, partly because I need to do that to help get an accurate diagnosis for once. In the meantime, I've scheduled a thorough physical for Thursday and I'm seeing my psychiatrist next Tuesday. That's on top of the counselor I see every Saturday.
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  1. I don't know what to say. But I wanted to say something. Just so you know that you aren't writing to an empty room.

  2. Thanks, I've had emails, it's very kind of everyone.

  3. oh Sarah, I'm so sorry.