mental health, Uncategorized

Ride or Die

I have Major Depressive Disorder. Which means, I go through depressive episodes as well as depressing days and I need medication. I’ve been dealing with this for more than 10 years. I’ve never thought about what the root cause of my depression was, but I’d say it’s a good chance that it was a combination of losing all my friends and suddenly staying home 24/7. I had been labeled the crazy girl. At only 10 years old. 

Now that I’m in my twenties, I’ve started taking medication for my depression. When I first started on Prozac, depression took me on a ride. It took me to the lowest point, suicidal. Then, it quickly shot straight up and I was suddenly on top of the world. And I would stay in this place for months. Until, a life event happened that triggered my depression back. After I signed my first house deed over to my ex, I fell into a major depressive episode. It was a point in my life where if it could go wrong, it sure as hell did. One right after the other. For a while, I was up and down and then, I was just down. 

I then started taking a new medicine, Rexulti. The change from this medicine has been so mild and climed so slow that I didn’t even realize it was working until I had stopped taking it for 2 weeks. I still don’t notice it much. It doesn’t do the same work as compared to the Prozac. But, my doctor just wants to keep upping the dose. So, we will see what happens at my next appointment. 

I’ve finally reached a place where my ADD is under control. I have steady medication for it and it doesn’t usually take me on a ride anymore. At some point, though, I joined back on depression’s ride. It’s taken me to self harm, being suicidal, and it’s let me come up for air and feel strong again. Right now, I’m low. I can’t see what’s ahead of me, it’s too cloudy. But I know I’m riding this ride low to the ground and it’s staying pretty level. 


This is where I spend all my days. Constantly. It’s like a concrete prison square. It’s my comfort zone. I’m not even comfortable inside my own apartment anymore. I’ve started bringing my notebooks out here. I’m moving my place inside to my place outside. Day by day this place sucks the happiness out of me, but I can’t leave it. 

I’ve been sitting here for a month, now. With the occasional breaks for sleep, doctors appointments, and a few outings. But for the better part of the month, I’ve been here. I’ve gotten up to smoking 2 fucking packs a day. I drink at least 2 pots of coffee. It’s all I fucking do. 

I know a better life waits for me on the inside of these walls. Just a short distance from where I spend my time. If I just cleaned up a bit, did some laundry, and actually ate something, I’d be better. If I worked in my anxiety book, made the phone calls I needed to, and just did something, anything, I’d be better. 

Truth is, I can’t do anything. Or, I won’t. It’s become too painful to face my depression. Or maybe, I’m afraid of getting better. Right now, all that I have are my mental health issues. I don’t have anything else. I don’t have anything, because I refuse to work on things. I could have writing, a relationship, a social life. But I refuse to try working for others, I refuse to trust someone, and I refuse to get out of my beach chair. 


The best I could do today is move from my beach chair, to my actual chair. I have plans to go out tonight, but because we didn’t set a time I feel like they’re not going to happen. He’s actually given me no reason to believe he’s forgotten about me, or doesn’t care, but I’m so used to being tossed to the side. I’ve got it in my mind that he’s not going to follow through. And honestly, that’s what’s causing my depression. My motivation to sit down and not do a damn thing, that comes from having my hopes up and immediately crushing them myself for no logical reason. 

Even though this is all self inflicted depression, I can’t seem to get rid of it. I can’t seem to help myself. I know no one else can help me, because I’m not at the point where I want help. All I want is to have a certain someone come over and hold me while I suffer through this phase. That’s all it is, a phase. I will make it through this, and I’ll be back here again, but it’d be nice to have someone by my side. 

-Liz

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