So apparently I’ve passed my one year anniversary on wordpress? Yay I guess?
I’m not sure how I feel about that because the only reason I’ve signed onto wordpress is because I’m riding the crazy train into depressoville and I decided that maybe a good thing to do would be to write incoherent shit about said adventure on a blog.
I realize now that I haven’t said anything about my current bout of depression on this blog yet save a cryptic post about a bug that flew into my room and later crawled into my lamp and died, so I’ll recap some of the events that lead up to now.
I actually don’t know when this bucket of fun initially got dumped all over me, but I’ll arbitrarily decide that it was the beginning of October or something. Maybe September, late September. That would be about when I started to work on college applications and similarly when my perception of having a successfully put together life and well controlled mental illnesses got torn right the fuck down. One by one, prospective colleges started being killed off like contestants on a terrible gameshow for reasons like “too expensive” or “application designed ten years ago by a monkey” (“This application works best in internet explorer or netscape browsers. Also the save button makes it crash, have fun”) leaving me with one victor that quite honestly terrifies me because the idea that I would get into it with my credentials when most of its places are reserved specifically for “people who are not Grimalkin” is laughable. But I’m applying to it anyways.
Or I was until, oh, November 10th-ish, when my brain decided that me being happy just was not going to be a thing anymore. So I stopped being able to do school work or college applications or basically anything besides start watching Doctor Who and sleep, for about a week. Then I woke up from that week of hibernation, decided that I was going to actually do some productive shit, did exactly one productive thing, and then avoided all other forms of productiveness for a while for fear that even touching them would destroy everything.
It turns out that that fear was well-placed, because on November 24th I decided I would check some things with my college applications. Doing so informed me that my applications were due in a week and I hadn’t asked my school to send them yet, and in response I promptly lost my shit again.
At that point I began seriously reevaluating my back up plan- tell universities to fuck off for two years and go to my community college. In the past I had very bad knee-jerk reactions to this possibility because I perceived it as essentially being a failure and giving up and taking the easy road out. Then I decided that my community college makes me happy and applications make me too crazy than is safe, and simultaneously decided to be proud of the fact that I was basically alive enough to even go to any college.
I’m still applying to the one university despite that decision. I’m really kind of hoping that my school fails to send the transcripts though, because I would really just like to be able to say “I FUCKED UP AND NOW I HAVE TO GO TO COMMUNITY COLLEGE YAY” and then hate myself for my awful failure for roughly one terrible week and then get on with the normal levels of hating myself. That sounds much better than waiting around to hear back from a college and being crazy every day until that happens.
Boy do I ever wish I could get a psychologist again! It sure would be nice to not have my life decisions based on whether or not I’m insane at certain moments. But sadly my psychologist is a horrible gaslighting pill-pushing asshole and the brief period of time when my mom was actually receptive to me existing while having problems and being willing to help me with them has passed, so the chance of me getting a different psychologist is basically none. I did get to have an actual supportive conversation with her regarding my decision to go with community college, but that lasted about two days until I was informed that me not being perfect was a burden upon her life again. Oh well.
As an aside I realized I was genderqueer a while back. I’d write about that now but it’s three AM and I really need to sleep because I have college classes tomorrow. I have finals soon! Finals soon and an inability to pay attention in class paired with difficulty motivating myself to go to class and an inability to sleep on the nights before those classes. Actually, an inability to sleep period. There’s nothing quite like depression tiring you out and then anxiety giving you insomnia. Really, nothing.