When I was in the peak of my Linkin-Park-listening, existentially-unhappy phase of high school, I had a lot of ideas about what was going to be the thing that made me happy. In proper teenage fashion, I thought my solution was going to be something like different friendships, more stability, a boyfriend, a better body, a better support system, all of those kinds of things. I thought that if I could be in possession of all that, then that was it- I was going to be better and happier.
I'm a really dissatisfied person, and I really always have been. I want a lot, and, once I get it, it never feels like enough.
And that brings me to now, where I weigh as much as I used to want to weigh, I have fantastic friends, an amazing boyfriend, and all the ingredients for what I thought would produce happiness, and I'm still just not there.
You can just call me spoiled.
We can totally end this conversation here; you're totally entitled to get up and leave. I don't think that's a particularly wrong way of viewing this situation. I've never had to fight for my life, so I don't know how to be totally grateful for and happy with everything I do have, and I'm spoiled in that way. I usually don't think that about other people, but I don't know that you're wrong about me if you think that. So, if you do, that's totally valid.
Maybe if you threw me into a pit of poisonous snakes and I escaped alive, I'd be perfectly content with and happy to face every mundane aspect of my life from that point on.
Maybe that's true. Maybe I just need to fight for something.
When I was in therapy, my therapist (her name was Kate, and she was old, had a drawer full of candy, wore purple a lot, and then she moved away) labeled me with something called Dysthymia, or Persistent Depressive Disorder. It's basically just the idea that you're sad and you've been sad for so long that you just think it's part of you. You feel so bad about yourself, and you have for so long, that you think that this is how you're supposed to be.
It's basically Depression-Lite. And Depression-Long.
It's all of the emptiness and none of the calories. It's all of the trash feelings, but I never really got into self-harming, I never attempted suicide (though I wrote some pretty stellar letters, if I must say so myself), and my life didn't just stop for my unhappiness. I think the difference between Dysthymia and Major Depression is that I could get out of bed.
My most obvious symptoms are that I don't sleep particularly well at all, I cannot make decisions to save my life, whenever a bad situation rolls around I'm very fixated on the idea that it won't ever get better, I have a lot of issues with concentrating because I have a lot of issues with motivation, and I'm incredibly, incredibly critical of both myself and others and it takes a huge, insurmountable toll on my life and my relationships. And I have always been this way.
I just get in my own way a lot.
If this sounds like you, the good news is that there is a lot you can do.
It doesn't have to be this way, and you don't have to be this way. I think the most recommended form of treatment is a combination of SSRI's (anti-depressants) and therapy, and neither of those things are something you should feel weird about. Regardless of whether you know it or not, there are probably a ton of people in your life on SSRI's, and I think almost everyone can benefit from a little therapy. So, if you're struggling with this kind of an issue and you want a solution, there are so many things that can get you on the right track to feeling better.
My problem is that I don't struggle with this thing. I just have this thing. I live with this thing. The thing that I struggled with was treatment.
I was on a combination of medications for about a year and a half, and I was in therapy for nearly two before I decided that it just wasn't for me. The medications, in particular, just react with each person differently. I know that they help a lot of people, but they made me feel like a screen that my life was passing through. I didn't feel like myself at all, and I hated it. Despite the fact that I had the option to continue therapy, I stopped as soon as my therapist moved away. It wasn't doing anything for me anymore; I think talking to people only helps if you want it to help.
That's the point I guess. I don't want help.
I really cannot war with myself anymore. I don't want to change me, I've put up such a fight against who I am and what I want for so long that I just can't afford to do it any longer. I feel like all I've been doing for years is frantically rowing against the tide of myself, and it just leaves me exhausted. I just want to stop paddling and see where I can take me, without any help. And if I sink, at least it's only further deeper into who I actually am.
I'm happiest when I'm not suppressing what I feel. I'm happiest when I'm not caging and stifling the little creature that sits in my head and whines all day. I've found that if I can just let it breathe, it usually just co-operates with me and curls up at my feet like a cat that I live with.
That's not to say that there aren't still really low, bad days, weeks, or months. And, I know the toll that those take on my life. I know how much those hurt my relationships. I'm not advising anyone to not seek treatment, it's really not easy. You really need to have a lot of self-awareness, and a really good grasp on what situations could make you more stressed or unhappy. You sort of need to babysit yourself a little. But I also deeply understand the cost that not being myself takes on me, and I owe it to myself to not let that happen anymore.
