Depressive Realism

From Wiki:
Depressive realism is the proposition that people with depression actually have a more accurate perception of reality, specifically that they are less affected by positive illusions of illusory superiority, the illusion of control and optimism bias. The concept refers to people with borderline or moderate depression, suggesting that while non-depressed people see things in an overly positive light and severely depressed people see things in overly negative light, the mildly discontented grey area in between in fact reflects the most accurate perception of reality.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Depressive_realism


It's a nice thought, that instead of being damaged... lacking in some or just crazy, I am actually a realist! It makes sense that those with less sense of hope or unrealistic expectations would be more depressed about life in general than an overly optimistic person. Perhaps this also translates to my disdain for most people. There are few people I like- and though it'd be nice to have more friends, I rarely meet people I want to spend much time with. I like to think I see people for who they really are.

Maybe people suffering from depression are just realists, disdain society based on it's non-merits and are also probably a little narcissistic... at least this one sounds like it.

Calling it

Have a bad feeling about tonight. Suspiciously suspicious.

I think about death and companionship.

How do you make friends when you hate going out, when you don't want to talk to anyone? When you are so depressed you can't even drink because then you can't get away. I want to lay in bed...under the bed...in the closet.
I need someone to rely on. Someone other than my boyfriend. It seems like every week I break down. Anxiety, hormones, depression. He can't be the only one I call on, even if he'd drop everything to come. When is it co-dependence?
I think about suicide and death. Just think. Would I weed the garden first? Clean the house? Such trivial things bring me down. What if someone I love died?
My father lives alone and sometimes I fear that upon visiting him I'll be greeted with his corpse. When I go up there for Father's day, will he be waiting for me, dead in his chair? Would his friends miss him and check on him right away or would I walk into the house with the putrid smell of death after he'd been gone for over a week?

Anxiety overload

Starting a week ago I dove into a deep deep anxiety filled funk. I suspected my bf of cheating online or in person, of inappropriate friendships and every negative image that came to my mind. For three days it took everything in me to not blast him with my accusations. In part- they started because of our history but in reality I know I am over-reacting because of my brain chemistry! These things usually don't bother me and if I can hold out a few days it will all pass.
However, here is what I wrote during a very bad day.

It's you. I'm afraid to let my guard down. To open up my heart completely. I love you, but something inside me won't let me be happy about it, won't let me dive in. What you've done damaged me. I'm afraid I'll never get that feeling back. There's no way for me to know what's really going on with you. You're less open than me... maybe I just volunteer too much. You don't talk about work or hanging out with those friends. I know that's why you don't want me to work there. You don't want me to be a part of that crowd, to see what goes on after shift is over and everyone spends the rest of the early morning drinking.
If you are keeping quiet about female friends because you are afraid you are already in deep water- that's only doing more harm than good. You know I'm not like her. I don't care you have female friends- it's secrets I don't like! The people you never mention. It looks like you are hiding something. I'm not any of your exes- I don't have hangups about friends or video games for godsake but just because it doesn't upset me doesn't mean I'm an idiot. I know if you are going too far. I highly suspect you never gave up internet chatting either but how can I find that out? A part of me is just ignoring it... the other part is this voice that only rears it's head when I'm already stressed or anxious. Maybe I should talk to you about it but then where would we be? You'd either lie about it and continue doing it or then I'd know for sure and I don't know how to go from there. How many shots do you deserve?

Following my three days of zombie like activity, where I stared blankly into space and forgot to eat I seemed to become manic. Like a rebound effect from the depression. Suddenly I can run just fine with 3 hours of sleep and a hangover. This rebound lasted the rest of the week and now I feel back to normal- and had the shitty hangover to prove it. If it sounds like I've started drinking more- you'd be right. :/

Prolonged adolescence

How do you keep yourself from agonizing over the "what if's" over wanting to change so many things in your life? From wondering where all the time has gone and what the hell have I accomplished in the last 7 years? At 21 I was living with a boyfriend and never got to go out and party. At 24 we split and I still didn't do that. Now, I'm to old for it. I don't want to do those things anymore but I feel like I missed out on those years of my life. I miss my friends.
I'm applying for "real" jobs but I'm not following up like I know I should. I have to call to have any shot at an interview. Sure, I hate living below the poverty line but I KNOW it. Why can't I grow up and take a chance on being an adult even if it means working more?

Denial

Thursday was a degrading day. First, an appointment at the Cabinet for Health and Family Services to follow up on my application for food stamps. Sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by the truly poverty stricken, I wondered if I deserved the aid. This doubt has kept me from applying for months. However, just because my grandmother bought me a decent, used car and I still have some nice clothes doesn't mean that currently the bills totally outweigh my income.
Last December, after 8 years, I received my bachelor's degree. Four months of job searching leaves me with my minimum wage position. Though I've used credit cards as a crutch, it's time to face the fact that I AM poor. I do deserve benefits and it WILL be temporary. So, I've applied. The state can determine it from here.

Immediately after my meeting with the social worker I had a dentist appointment to extract 2 teeth. Ok, now I really feel poor. Though, the lortab I got for much needed pain relief makes me not care so much.
Shit, now I can understand how some people become horribly addicted to these things.

I imagine whoever said that poor people are happier than rich was never in agonizing pain with no money to pay for a dentist! It seems much of my depression and anxiety stems from money problems... or should I say having no money, problems.

Blasted from the Past

I didn't date this entry when I wrote it on a sheet of notebook paper but I distinctly remember writing it in the parking lot of Big Lots last summer, then tucking it into my purse so I'd never forget that day.

I shop to escape. Escape my pain, escape the clutter in my home.
It adds to the clutter in my home.
Shopping is an addiction. It is literally consuming me, the consumer.

My boyfriend (ex-at the time) is a hideous person. He's secretly been a member of a swingers' club while we were together. As much as I wanted to, I can no longer believe he never met anyone online. His word means nothing. His "love" means nothing. I wish I could take back all that I gave to him. Any joy I brought to his life because he doesn't deserve it. He was never MINE. He showed me no respect while we were together and he'll never earn my respect again.

At first I was too sad to be angry. I was grieving not the loss of a shitty boyfriend but my best friend. Now, I'm angry.

I can no longer ignore what he did to me. No more. I can't push it aside to keep a friendship. I can't look at him. That's it.