“Home is behind, the world ahead.”

The end comes near. I graduate in 2 weeks. I had a very strange feeling the other day. Normally, when I think about life and death, I am happy to go, sometimes even wish to go. I had skin sent in to test for cancer. This was the first time I felt real fear. And again I don’t think it is about the dying thing. Yes I wouldn’t have gotten to hold my own child, or complete a career, or travel, but the pain would be gone. But this was something completely different. Fear. Fear of immense pain. I don’t think I am strong enough to handle that. I have always thought of myself as strong and I don’t know if I do anymore. This life that we are living, it terrifies me. I could be gone at any moment and time presses forward. We forget about who we have lost and any contribution they might have made. You forget the smile, and the smell.

Human life seems so insignificant. We are just a species who happen to communicate well and have pretty high level cognitive functioning. But what are we really? War, killing, stealing. Kindness is so far away. We are thrust into this world, not ready for what may come. We are college students being told to figure out your life and know what you are going to do when you are 18. Your whole life, decide then. I don’t know what I want my life to be. I haven’t figured it out yet. And honestly by the time I do, it will be over. Just another dot on the population statistics of the 2000s. And even more insignificant number towards human evolution.

“Home is behind, the world ahead.” I am at the cross roads of leaving behind what I know and going forward. I graduate and will be viewed as an adult. The path is scary. It is uncertain. This song is sung by Billy Boyd during the Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Faramir, a brother and kind soul, “sacrifices” himself for the only thing he wants, his father’s love. What is the only thing I want? What am I willing to sacrifice?

“I will wait, I will wait for you.”

I haven’t written in a while and for my blog I think this is a good thing. I find I only need to write when I am troubled. A little catch up on my life…if you care.

This summer was awesome (living with a new roommate). I had already signed a lease with the old roommates at this new house. So that is where I am now. Amazing how one moment you are happy, you are thrown in with them, and the unhappiness ensues. I have cut at all thus far, probably because the end is near. I think I have 54 days in the house. Then I graduate and I am gone. Goodbye you won’t hear from me. So that is one problem solved. Sure losing an 8 year relationship with a best friend is one of the worst things….but the fact that she can’t even say congratulation when I get engaged is something else.

I don’t understand what I did. I don’t know what I am not good enough to be your friend anymore. But I don’t deserve this. I don’t. And  it may have taken me four years to realize it but I got here. I am done being made fun of, I am done cleaning up your mess, and I am done feeding into the illusion that you are some awesome person. What makes an awesome person? Oh I don’t know…maybe saying congratulations when your roommate gets engaged is a good start. Everyone says you are jealous. Honestly I think that is giving you the benefit of the doubt. I’m sorry but in 54 days, the only time I will have to see you again is if you come to my wedding. That’s right, I am inviting you. I will be the bigger person. My mom taught me to kill them with kindness. And I will.

My boyfriend is no longer my boyfriend. He is my fiancé! Exciting things. I don’t think I could have felt more happiness when I saw him get down on one knee. Of course the whole time I was saying, “shut up, stop messing with me, shut up, omg”. After a major panic attack later that night, I am finally excited. It is weird to giving your life to someone. But I am so excited to live with him. After living with these roommates, I can’t wait to finally call someplace home. I am going to be so loved by him. He loves me for all of me. I can’t believe it sometimes.

“I will wait, I will wait for you”  is from a Mumford and Son’s song. Shocking I know. It’s like I like that band or something. Weird. This is referencing a couple of people I have lost in the past couple of months. When I think about death, I have to admit, I am scared. I would rather die than have my family die. My parents think this is normal. When you get older, you are ready, or beginning to accept that the people around you die. I can’t accept it yet. I can’t. But I will wait for him. And I just want him to wait for me. It terrifies me to lose him. Some people believe in a higher power. But when you don’t, the people you love are all you have. And sometimes that just has to be enough.

“And the blood runs still.”

Alright so I am going to be a total hypocrite in this blog against everything I have ever said about myself. I cut myself once in sophomore year of high school. I was so ashamed. It wasn’t deep and it didn’t leave a scar. But I just remember thinking why did I just do that. It was uncontrollable. It was the weirdest thing I have ever felt. A strange dissociation from my body. Then I remember the first time I got drunk. Most people love it and think alcohol is great. I HATED the first time I drank. I did not see the fun in losing control of your body. But mostly it reminded me of that feeling when I was cutting. That out of body feeling. I couldn’t control anything I did. I was saying everything I usually keep inside of me. Of course I overdid it the first time I ever drank like most people do. So the whole throwing up business wasn’t really awesome either. But regardless, it was that feeling. That haunting feeling of not being me. Of course I still drank after that, but it was very monitored. My family uses alcohol as a major social gathering so I am seen as the odd ball in the family. When my mom and I were on vacation for my 21st birthday this year, she poked fun at me for not wanting to drink at that moment. And I was a little aggressive in my response. I have never snapped at my mom. I said, “So am I judged in this family because I don’t consume a drug constantly?” I think I hurt her feelings a bit but I finally got through to her. She said, “Of course we will love you no matter what.” Nice to hear that my alcohol consumption doesn’t categorize me. But still.

Sorry I got off topic. When I drank in college, I felt empowered. I could be anyone I wanted to be. It was ironic that the feeling that had scared me for so long was finally my empowerment. I loved feeling outside of my body. I could do what I want, and say what I want. This week was the first time I combined them both though. I had been drinking earlier in the night (not like wasted but I was in a good place). Hey I am 21 I can do that. And besides, college students are suppose to drink all the time. Duh. Well anyway. I got home and I was still pretty buzzed. I decided to take a shower. I remember grabbing the razor but I don’t remember questioning what I was doing. Now I suppose I should give you a little backstory. So no, I have cut since high school. But I have had cutting objects in my hands so many times. I just like to feel the point. Knowing it is in my control. I remember I went through a phase where I wouldn’t go near knives at all. As I put it, “I have a phobia of sharp things!” Naw. I just was afraid of them, or what I would do with them. So I have had razors in my hand a lot. And I mean a lot. But nothing has ever come from it. My conscience always stepped in and said what’s the point. 

So I did it. Just three small ones. And then 4 more tonight. Really small. Looks like paper cuts. Why do people do it? Most people say it is to feel. Because they lack emotion and want to feel something. Other people say it is a loss of control in your life. Other people say it is a cry for attention. Maybe it is all of these things in my case. I also think it is an addiction of sorts. Because this time? I am not ashamed. It’s just there and I am going to move on and focus on the giant to-do list I have to do. That’s just it. There is no time. No time for anything. I am wasting time writing and blogging. No one even knows who I am so it is pointless. I don’t ever want anyone to read this. Yet I am posting on the internet, open for all people to see. It’s a weird world. People confess their lives on the internet, we go on with our simple lives, and we find comfort in cutting our arms. Just another part of life. Stigma aside for a moment, why does it matter. Really. I mean, sure if I cut through the dermal layer we could reach an artery or something. I don’t want that. I just…I guess I don’t know what I want. Anything I suppose. 

“And the blood runs still” is from Demons by Imagine Dragons. Basically the whole song speaks to me. I have demons inside. But who doesn’t have demons inside? Is everyone really all that perfect? Its just another mark on our bodies. It’s meaningless, so why do I do it?



“I can fake a smile. I can force a laugh.”

I find it funny sometimes that I can forget that I am suppose to be sad. I have depression right? So I should be sad. I have GAD right? So I should be worried about something. I can’t remember the last time I felt a moment of pure bliss. It had to be when I was with him. He is my everything. I never know what I did to deserve him. He is another reason I am disappointed in myself. But I suppose it gives me hope. If it happened for me, it can happen for you. There are amazing people out there who fall in love with you for the good and the bad. He just happens to be perfect and is my superman. That probably seems stupid to people but it really can happen. Of course there are things about him that bothers me. It isn’t perfect all of the time. When he eats peanut butter his mouth makes weird noises, when he gets so stressed about the smallest things and then the stress is gone in an instant, when he makes things more complicated then they are (like google stuff and it will help!). He makes me smile because although I can find things that annoy me, I would trade it for anything else. I see my friend who is with a guy who yells at her, cusses at her, and makes her feel stupid. Why would you subject yourself to that? I heard a saying once that says we choose a love for ourselves that we think we deserve. I don’t know if I agree with that. Because I chose a perfect man and I don’t think I deserve him whatsoever. My friend knows she is better but can’t escape his clutches. How can it get to be that bad? Is that an abusive relationship? Or is she addicted to him. I can’t understand. Sometimes I think I deserve a guy like that and she deserves mine. Mental illness isn’t a reason for punishment though. We can’t control it. But it still is my brain. It is me who is making me suffer. People try and pinpoint on something in their lives but there is nothing. It is simply how you were constructed. And that is what terrifies me. I can’t escape it. I can’t escape me.

I wonder if there are other people out there. Who recognize that their lives really aren’t that bad. What do they blame their unhappiness on? It is so hard when the only person I have to blame is myself. It is a vicious cycle. I have also been a little concerned for my health. The idea of anorexia really entices me. I even have gone to lengths to wonder if there are things on the internet that you can do to get there. Which is stupid. I know the risks. Cardiovascular problems, malnutrition, death, suicide.  But when I can’t control my own brain what can I control?

I started this blog being in a good mood. Then my thoughts take me. I long to be with him. He is the only one that can grant me any piece of mind, even if it is for a little bit. It might not last for long sometimes and other times its is weeks. But I think I have decided that the darkness will find me. It always does. That’s what I call it. I see a pit. It goes deep and my hands are grasping towards the light. Sometimes I am right on the edge. About to get out. And other times I fall. It really is very scary. I wonder what other people think about.


“I can fake a smile. I can force a laugh.” This is from Christina Perri’s Human. It takes about how we all make mistakes. But this line in particular sticks with. I can’t even count the amount of times I have to force my happiness. But what takes me by surprise is that sometimes I forget about faking it. I think it turns into something real. Can that be all life is? Think happy thoughts and you will be happy? It can’t be that simple. I have tried that before. I don’t think that works.



“Tomorrow comes to take me away.”

It is always so up and down. My mood, life, everything. Why can’t I have some stability to give me a good foundation? Maybe my life is too stable. Maybe it is boring and that is why my mind goes crazy to try and compensate for this shit. But life isn’t all bad right? There is beauty. The trees, music, a hug. But what about the other parts of life? The dark, a mirror, death. Why is it so easy for some people to focus on the former when all I can focus on is the latter. Maybe it is just because I am over dramatic. Because I can’t see beyond my own pathetic little world. 

I began going to a therapist again. A different one this time. She uses art therapy. I don’t think I am taking it very seriously because I don’t think I can really draw everything that happens in my head. It is impossible. The swirling of colors (mostly black), and me falling through it all. Have you ever seen Alice in Wonderland? Or read Lewis Carrol’s original? That is how I feel. I am falling into a whole and everything is swirling around me. Time, stars, music, particles. And at first, I am the only one I can see. You see the swirling going on around behind me, but it is just my face. My eyes. The terror. The wonder. And then my gaze zooms out. And I am just one of the particles, a small insignificant part of something so much larger. I have always thought of myself as a puzzle piece. When the puzzle is out on the table, one piece can be so important to complete the picture. But when it is in the box on the shelf, you don’t think about it. It’s just there. It happened. 80 years from now, I won’t be here. And that is on the end of the scale. I was going to say that is being optimistic about it. But honestly, I don’t think I want to get that far. I have always thought I would die young. It just seems so peaceful. To go, and be done with everything. It seems easy. 

I have been thinking about death a lot. Not my own. Just in general. I wonder if he is up there watching me right now. It’s only been a month since he died. It feels like just yesterday when we were all around his hospital bed. I can still see his empty shell with a gaping mouth. His eyes were his best feature and I couldn’t even see them one last time. One glance from him and whole world was turned upside down. I forgot about everything but happiness and what was going on in that moment. That single moment. How many people have you met that can do that? Can halt your busy life and make you think about being a better person. Not many I assume. He could do that. He just kept going. For his family. And finally he was tired. And he made the decision all on his own. He waited until we left the room before he went. I wish I could have been in there. Maybe I could have gone with him. Hand in hand. I think I feel jealousy towards him. That his pain is gone. Of course after 12 years of cancer pain ruled his life. And I would have given anything I had to take away that pain from him. But now he is done. Its finished. The weight is gone. 

I think it is going to be one of those days. When the depression rules everything I do. I really need to start reading again. I can get lost in a book so easily. And I make their pain my pain. I feel what they feel. The to-do list is long and time is short. And it’s funny. The things that are on my to-do have nothing to do with me or my happiness. It is all about things life demands from me. Applications for grad school, homework, work. Shouldn’t the only life we have be something we enjoy?  Here in a flash and gone in an instant. Maybe I will just keep pushing through. Go through this stable instability until I finally feel my feet on the ground. 

“Tomorrow comes to take me away” is from Save Tonight by Eagle Eye Cherry. It’s a love song and I listen to it and pick out the only lyric that is cynical. Typical. If tomorrow really did come to take me away, I think I would be relieved. I would be extremely disappointed. I would wonder if this is really it. If this is all I left on the world. I am just a piece of a puzzle. I find comfort in tomorrow. It is one step closer. 



“Ask yourself, will it ever get better than tonight?”

So I write today as a way to vent. A good way to explain what I feel is the word tired. Of course that has nothing to do with how much sleep I am getting (which is on average 10 hours a night, I think I have hypersomonia by the way). But my body, and more importantly, my mind are exhausted. I am sick of having to be strong for everyone else, when in reality, I am not strong at all. And it really hurts when my roommates (who are suppose to be my best friends) decide that it’s ok to take a shit on me. I don’t know if it is because they think I can handle it or what. I room with one of my best friends from high school. Everyone told me how bad of an idea that was. I told them no. We are fine. Our friendship would be fine. What they didn’t tell me is how much I would miss her. Yes I live with her, yes I see her everyday, but I miss her. It just isn’t the same. There is hostility, competiion, and sometimes I feel hate. I tried to convince myself that this is how sisters act towards each other. But this can’t be that way. Sisters as least have love underneath it all. She also has a defense mechanism where everything she says has to be justified. Or everything anyone says has to be topped or justified. I don’t know if it is her way of trying to get involved in the conversation by saying she has a similar experience or something. But sometime, someone just wants to vent about their life and not hear about what happened to you. She always has to justify when she is wrong too. That is one of the most important things I have learned through my whole experience. I reference experience here as being my depression but I think it might be life in general. Anyway, one of the most important things is to admit when you are wrong. One of the standard human experiences is fault. EVERYONE makes mistakes. All the time. I am the queen of mistakes. I say things when I shouldn’t, I care too much about people, and I let people in (which is my greatest fault). It’s hard to say you are wrong. I get that. But at some point, your justifications are going to mean nothing.

Another of my roommates has anxiety issues. Don’t we all. Anxiety is so common in the college student. She is a sensitive soul, and that makes her loving and gentle. It also makes her fragile. This is dangerous for me, as a blunt honest speaker, to say things around her. One bad comment and the world is turned upside down. This wouldn’t be something that bothered me normally. I have learned to love peoples flaws. Mostly because it is something new and it makes me feel normal to see others’ flaws. But in this case, it bothers me. Mostly because she is only offended by me it seems. I understand my depression and anxiety make me hard to live with, but it hurts to know that I shouldn’t speak around her. It hurts even more when my last roommate and best friend defends everyone but me. Of course I don’t know what happens when I am not here. I am sure they talk about me. “Why is she so angry today?” “Why isn’t she talking?” “I am so mad at her because she posted a funny video on my wall that I didn’t find funny.” (Sorry a little sarcasm in that one. Unfortunately that actually happened).

So I sit here, in my bed, feeling sorry for myself. Which of course then makes me feel extremely pathetic. But you can’t compare your problems to others’ problems. It just doesn’t make sense. You can use others’ problems to keep yourself in check, but ultimately your problems are yours .You don’t know anything but those problems. I can think about all of the starving children in Africa. And for a moment, my issues seem to dissolve away and I even feel guilty for being so weak. But at night, when my head is on my pillow and I reflect back on the day, I am not thinking about the starving kids in Africa, I am thinking about what my roommate said to me that hurt so bad, or my class that I am not doing well in, or my boyfriend’s family. These are my problems. This is what plagues me.

“And ask yourself, will it ever get better than tonight?” This is a quote from the song Glitter in the Air by Pink. It is hard to see beyond what we have right in front of us. This night seems endless and tomorrow’s sunlight seems so long off. I feel like my only comfort in this world is my pillow. But then I remember that I will see him again. And my family cares about me. But in this moment, right now, I am alone. I am completely alone. The only thing that is of any comfort to me is knowing I have a razor in the bathroom. Even typing this brings shame to my face. But I can’t deny it when I stood in front of it for a solid twenty minutes yesterday reaching for it and pulling back, contemplating. Cutting is so weird. I haven’t done it since sophomore year of highschool. It is all about control though. Hence, where eating disorders arise. When we are depressed, we lose control of our lives. I happen to love food and don’t see myself ever having an eating disorder. Of course I say that now. I say that now when it hasn’t even gotten that dark yet. I am numb, I am sad, and I am waiting. I am waiting to be happy. I am waiting for the weight to be lifted. I am waiting for the sunlight of tomorrow to see if it actually will get better than tonight. I am doubtful.

Annabelle Riley

“Don’t you know who you are?”

This question has been haunting me for the past couple of weeks. As a college student, we are told to learn, study and pursue. However, they never told us everything we had to in addition to learning. We need a job, we need volunteer hours, we need clock hours in a hospital. We need to sleep, we need to plan, we need to eat right, we need to workout, we need to be thin, we need to drink alcohol, we need to be social. Why can’t we just do what we want. I enjoy sleeping, and watching Game of Thrones, and baking cookies, and being with friends. None of these things contribute to the great plan though.

You would think as a 21 year old I would know a little something about who I am. Where I want to go, who I want to end up eith. But in reality? I don’t know anything. I feel like you live your whole life focusing on different things and different challenges. Is there ever a moment to just sit and be content? To just stare into the distance and it be ok? Without thinking about work, or school, or problems. I just find myself thinking a lot about what else is out there. I went to college to get a job, to make money, to get married, to have a family, to work, and to retire. And then what? Where is it written in the book of life that I can do whatever I want. But then would I even know what I wanted to do? My boyfriend’s dad is in post cancer treatment and all he wants to do is go back to work. Routine. Life. Sometimes I am jealous of him. For getting to take a breath and find out what is really important to him. I don’t know what is important to me. What I would fight and die for.

And as I sit here, my computer flashes pictures from my past across my screen. There are happy times, sad times, and times I sometimes wish to forget. Then there are pictures of him. So many pictures of him. The one good thing I have in my life that I don’t appreciate enough. He is goofy, he is silly, and for some reason, he loves me. I always find this hard to wrap my head around because I am just a pain sometimes. I always think he is blinded by love and one day he is just going to wake up and say, why the hell am I with you? I think about that a lot. But I know that won’t happen. He loves me for some reason. I just to treat him well. To do everything I can for him. But I don’t really think I am enough. I’m not really what he needs. Someone “normal”. Without depression and anxiety.

“Don’t you know who you are?” is from the song Everybody loves me by One Republic. I disagree with the entire song because it is suppose to be obviously cocky. But I like the line don’t you know who you are. Because honestly? I don’t think I do. And to me, it seems like everyone else knows who they are. Am I really the only one who is lost?


“As I fall apart, I learned to fly.”

Why do people think that making mistakes is the end of the world? I am going to go on a little rant about how people annoy me. So I had class today. My professor gives a practice test that is identical to the actual test. Seriously. The numbers are just changed. Well anyway, if you volunteer to go up to the board and write a problem, you get 2 points extra credit. So obviously everyone should do it right? Wrong. Someone people don’t want the embarrassment of POSSIBLY getting a problem wrong. Really? Accept your mistakes people. It’s what makes you stronger. It is a major pet peeve of mine when people do that. My roommate is like that. She defends every single action she has ever made. Maybe it is a defense mechanism? But sometimes it gets to the point where it offends me. Pointing out someone’s flaws is not for wrongful intentions. It is what friends do.

Mistakes are something in my life that I treasure. They have made me what I am today. I am a woman built from many mistakes, many wrong doings, and many falls into the black pit. Those mistakes have carved me into a stronger person. Mistakes are learning opportunities. Seriously. How many times have you heard this? Plenty. I am not saying anything new. I am saying something that people don’t appreciate and acknowledge. There is nothing wrong with being wrong.

“As I fall apart, I learned to fly.” This is from the song Learn to Fly  by Carbon Leaf. I have fallen apart. Multiple times. I have been broken down and torn apart. I am not sure if I have put myself together with glue, or something stronger. I am not sure. I am probably not as whole as I once was. But I am getting there. The pieces are quite close to the original. Close, but not the same. I don’t think I will ever be the same. I will try, but it won’t be the same.


“Where you invest your love, you invest your life.”

Haven’t posted in a couple of days. Been a little busy with life and stuff I suppose. I had a bit of a hard weekend. I went on Friday to do stuff for school and had a meeting with a wonderful place that helps young girls become strong women. As I was walking in for my meeting, I got a text from my boyfriend’s roommate. My boyfriend had another seizure. HIs first one was last January. I suppose we aren’t sure if it is epilepsy or not. Hasn’t been determined yet. Its heartbreaking for me to be 3 hours away at school when he is home at his university. At least his family is there so they can be strong for him. It is really hard to be strong for someone from a distance. I do my best, but sometimes its just not the same as being there. A hug means so much more than a text saying “I love you.”

He is ok. For now. He got in a car accident in January so he can’t drive. It is amazing what an independence driving is. It’s something I have never thought of. I guess it’s one of those things, “Never know what you have until it’s gone”. He is the strongest person I have ever met. Trust me, he has gone through some shit. And he is the sweetest, purest soul. He works hard everyday to make other’s lives bright and shiny. I am actually going home this weekend to see him. I definitely shouldn’t because I have a test Friday and I need the weekend to study. But seeing him is more important. And again I am not going reiterate the fact that I can’t focus whatsoever on my education. It is a gift I take for granted. But at least I can admit it right? That’s more than anyone else can do.

So back to my boyfriend. I told you he was strong right? Ok well just listen to his year. HIs grandpa died early in the year. His grandma recently had a heart attack. His dad is battling his third round of cancer. His dog that he has had since he was ten is going to die any day. Doesn’t that sound cheery? I know. Any other person would crumble. Me? I would retreat into my dark hole that is depression. I would refuse to come out until it got so dark that I could only see the speck of light at the end of the tunnel. When the dark, cold hands start to grasp at my shirt to pull me back into complete darkness. I really don’t want to go back there but sometimes it is just so easy. It seems easy. It is definitely not easy to get back out. The worst part about the hole? The amount of people I hurt on the way down. It is definitely not on purpose. Absolutely not on purpose. That is the last thing I want actually. To hurt anyone. Especially him. Or my parents. But it is hard to hide pain. And it is even scarier when it is in your own brain. That is one thing people don’t understand about mental disorders. And the stupid stigmas that go with it. It is not a physical sign of weakness. I mean if you give it enough time, you can see physical signs. Lack of sleep, weight loss, drastic changes in appearance. All things I have done. I chopped off my long brown hair. You would think it would make me feel better. It didn’t. It’s hard to actually find things to make the pain go away. But let me tell you, it is there. There are things out there. He is mine. His smile melts even the coldest of hearts. I also enjoy a cup of coffee and a warm fire.

“Where you invest your love, you invest your life.” Love can be hard thing to do. Especially when trust is a major component that goes with it. This is from the song Awake your Soul by Mumford and Sons. Trust is a difficult thing to do. Especially for those with anxiety and depression. Major that was a generalize statement. Sorry! It is hard for me to trust anyone. Especially myself. I think I can trust him though. He hasn’t failed me yet. He has the power though. He could hurt me more than anyone else in the world. I have showed him things I have shown anyone else. The raw me. Inside the empty shell. I put my heart in his hands. Now it is just a waiting game too see if he cradles it forever, or squishes it with the slightest stomp. Either will make me the person I am to become in the future. Forever.


“When you look at your reflection, is that all you want it to be?”

So I suppose I should mention why this blog has been started. I touched on it in my first post, but in a more dramatic and deep way that is a tad over the top. I want to provide advice, tips, discussion points, and help for those in the world with my experiences. I hope others can do the same for me. It is easy to find beauty in the world; it is hard to look past the bad to acknowledge it.

I am a 20-year-old college student attending a prestigious university in the midwest. Why am I going to college? To learn shit and get a job. Why do I need a job? To financially provide for my future family. Why do I need a family? I want one and society demands it. I tend to harp on society a lot. The ironic thing? I am apart of society. And I am following right into its norms. I am the white woman attending a college spending an absurd amount of money to achieve good grades. Not to learn. I am not being testing on how much I learned. I am being tested on how well I can test. I do well enough. If you are curious. But as I get older, I find that grades are just a societal demand. What I retain and what I do with that information is more vital in my opinion. 

I live with depression and anxiety. I had originally typed the word suffer, instead of live with but I decided to change that. I use to suffer. Now I live with. I began feeling depressed during freshman year of high school. As I look back on it, I think I wasn’t very happy as a middle schooler either but I didn’t really know what depression was. It is kinda nifty to be able to classify sadness in a disorder. Makes me feel better knowing others have it and it is recognized by society….

I am also very sarcastic. I realize that is hard to come across through a blog but obviously I am assuming whatever you read you will understand. So if I tend to contradict myself, that could be why. 

I am planning to use this blog to post pictures, papers, funny things, sad things, or just things in general. Honestly, this could sit in the the internet world and never be read by another living soul. That’s fine. As I said earlier, this isn’t for you. It is for me. I also don’t type and form sentences like a junior in college should. I write like I speak. With dramatic pauses and serious tone. My English major roommate would be so appalled. I am pretty sure blogs are also suppose to be used for constructive purposes. Like talking about politics, or the government shutdown. The war in Serbia or Kim Kardashian’s life. Only joking. I don’t keep up with the Kardashians. Ha! Get it? I actually wish I was more in tuned with what was going on in the world. To be able to acknowledge someone else’s suffering apart from my own. But honestly? That is really difficult. Especially when it isn’t currently affecting me. Of course that statement would have political fanatics up in roars because I think the government shut down isn’t affecting me. When my student loans stop coming in and I can’t attend my college anymore, then yes. I will be affected. Until then, society  still demands good grades and good preparation for graduate school. 

“When you look at your reflection, is that all you want it to be?” This is from RIght Where it Belongs by Nine Inch Nails. Every time I hear this song I think of my mornings. When I look in the mirror and decide who I am going to be that day. Today? Today I am a tired student who is looking forward to a night of McDonals, Netflix, and my Macbook. Simple pleasures in life to keep me going. 

Maybe that should be my first advice for those of us LIVING with depression or anxiety. (I say these together because in most, not all, cases people have both, like me). Find the simple pleasures in life. They are different for everyone. I like to sleep. I like chocolate. I like coffee. I like to shower and sit on my bathroom floor wrapped in a towel and write blogs on the internet. To each their own. FInd something that makes you smile today and remember that. Because sometimes, when there is nothing to smile about, a cup of coffee will keep me content. And sometimes that just has to be good enough.