Depression- My Ally

     Since I was in fourth grade, I started to notice (mostly because I have kept journals since then) that I had symptoms of perfectionism. My value and self-worth came from accomplishments. I wanted to please people. I strived really hard to do well and fell apart when I didn’t. I could never meet this unrealistic standard I had for myself.

My perfectionism only got worse when the stakes got higher. In middle school, my grades became important to me. My worth was measured by the grades I got. I would complain about anything less than 90’s. That included 89.

High school threw me into a whirlwind of emotions as I kept track of every tragic event that took place year after year. I built up armor against people. Lost my ability to feel connection because of fear of rejection. I felt lost more times than I can count. I have hated myself for not being able to be better. I faked it until I made it.

College finally broke me. I had to accept my first C as a passing grade. Talk about a knife to my perfectionism. I felt even more lost since I wasn’t defined by my grades anymore. I was just mindlessly surviving. Stressing over doing well enough to pass. Always feeling like my work wasn’t any good. Feeling stupid because I didn’t feel like my grades reflected my intelligence, but I also didn’t know how else to prove my intelligence.

My perfectionism also contributed to my depression. I’ve always thought of it as a dark storm cloud that follows me around or lingers in the background waiting to ruin any moment for me. Moments of happiness became opportunities for the dark cloud to come crashing in. It could come for the dumbest reasons. It could come unexpectedly. It would just rain in my head of negativity and I would sink into hating myself more.   

     I’ve tried thinking better. I’ve tried making bold statements about changing. I’ve sought help. I’ve investigated taking medicine. I’ve tried making healthier choices. All my trying has failed me. I am exhausted. I always give up and end up back in my dark hole feeling defeated. Exasperated by my inability to be happier or to truly make a lasting change.

     I give up. I am going to stop hating myself for something I cannot control. I am done thinking less of myself because I am depressed. I am going to hate myself and love myself. I will have good days and I will have bad days. I’m going to have moments of strong feelings and I am going to live through them like I always do.

     What has inspired this blog post is something actually really simple. I am a procrastinator. I hate that I am a procrastinator. I stress myself out until the moment I get something done. The example for this blog is a research paper I had due on 6/3/19. I started the research (which is the easy part for me) on 4/27/19. I started writing the paper 6/1 and finished 6/2. Had someone read over it and then did my second read 6/3. That’s right on the due date.

     My wise roommate and best friend told me to stop trying to mold myself into something I am not. I am a procrastinator, but I always get my work done. I always do well too. I may think my work is garbage, but I have passed all my classes. So clearly, I am not in the wrong for just working better under pressure. Sometimes I need that extra thrill to push me towards real genius.

     Either way, I am not going to fake it until I make it anymore. I am just going to be real with myself. I’m going to be honest to people about my views about life. I don’t get the hype. I’m here and I get my moments of happiness, but it will never be sunshine and rainbows for me and I’m actually okay with that.

     Seems odd that I’m saying depression is my ally, but honestly, I like it. It has caused me to think deeper and has made me have a more realistic view of life. I handle difficult situations with ease because of my strong conflict inside. I write cute songs and sad songs because I can be in touch with very opposing feelings, but also make it fun. I can comfort other people who seek my wisdom that stems from observations and learned behaviors. I can write these blog posts that people read even though I am not consistent in the slightest. You’ve probably noticed that I have gap months of no writing and some months of many writings.

     I can’t see myself being “Miss Sunshine,” but I’ll still make other people’s day brighter. I probably won’t always be optimistic. I don’t care though. I am really content with being imperfect. I’m extremely at peace with this idea of just letting things be as they are when they are them. I am not in a constant state of stress. I am not in a constant state of fear. I am slightly hindered in social settings, but people don’t make me happier so why should I keep forcing myself to socialize? I just have to keep it real.

     People constantly want to put everyone in boxes of right or wrong, black or white, this way or that way. Well, enough! I don’t want to be anything, but this mess of a person that I am. I am a reflector with a lot of thoughts compacted into a 5ft package. I am miserably happy. I am what I choose to be in this minute and tomorrow. It may never be the same, but I don’t care anymore. I’m just trying to figure out what it is to be me and truthfully, I’m not sure.

     What I do know is this, my depression isn’t my enemy. I am not my enemy. I keep fighting myself to be better, but I am not even sure what the end goal looks like. I feel miserable a lot and trying to change that by forcing myself to act differently than I’d naturally react hasn’t made me feel any less miserable.  

(Disclaimer) My blog post is not against self-improving. My blog post is against the pressures we put on people to be a certain way even if it’s not something they want to be. If you have a real goal for yourself that you believe that you can attain, go for it with all your being because that’s who you are. If you’re like me with no vision and you’re just running into what feels like a void, stop pushing yourself to “improve.” Just focus on being you whatever that looks like. You exist for a reason even if that means you want to binge watch Netflix for most of your life. What’s the difference? It’s your life. Live like you.