For as long as I can remember, I have always been sad with bouts of happy sprinkled in. The happy parts never last, and the sad parts always creep back in. I have happy memories, but for every happy memory, I have hundreds of sad ones. Memories of being hurt, rejected, ignored, passed over for other, cooler friends. Being forgotten about, brushed aside. Slighted. Used. Taken advantage of.
I can fake it. I can pretend that life is fucking perfect, but it never has been. It should be. I have everything I could possibly want.
—– Got up and took two GABA —–
I have been on anti-depressants, which I’ve hated and refuse to go back on. I have been to therapy, which sucked. I have tried changing my outlook, my attitude, but it always creeps back up. I have taken up various types of routines, workout regimens, diets, and while I’d say the more rigorous workouts and cleaner diets tend to have the best results, I am still sad.
I can blame hormones, but if I chart it in the calendar, there is no rhyme or reason to it. No hormonal explanation. I have done this for years, and just dealt with it.
All the way through high school, through college, through being a teacher, through being fat, then thin, then fat again. I have always been sad. I smile for all my pictures, I feel good when people are excited to see me, but I also don’t want to let anyone in. Every time I let someone in, I get hurt. Or they end up being a clingy, crazy friend which I feel like I have to sever ties with. Or I just can’t fully connect with them. Or, turns out they’re just being polite, and they don’t wait around long enough to listen to me speak. When I do find someone I can trust, our schedules don’t coincide. I can’t ever talk to them when I feel like I need them. I can never truly connect with others. I crave it so much, too. I absolutely desire human connection on a soulful level.
Two weeks ago, I thought it was hormones, so I let time tell. Last week, I knew it couldn’t possibly still be hormones, but I thought well maybe this month is different. And this week, same. I’m bummed. I feel like life is passing me by.
I hate prescriptions, I hate anti-depressants. Drinking makes me feel like shit. I’m so fucking sore from working out this week that I wisely chose not to go today. I don’t know what to do. My body can only handle so much crossfit for those endorphins. I’m so over yoga, even though I keep thinking I should go back and take a class soon. I know I’ll feel out of place and unwelcome though. Yoga is always a struggle for me. While I may be good at it, I never feel like I really belong. I am always an outsider.
I have never felt accepted, ever, in my life, until I started crossfit. But even crossfit doesn’t always yield the best results. 99% of the time, I leave and I feel amazing, but this week it felt good, but it was so unrewarding, even when I worked harder and pushed myself farther. I left the gym all week long still feeling like something was missing. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel better after a workout. It was almost a panicked feeling, because I thought to myself, well what the fuck am I supposed to do now if this doesn’t work?! How much harder can I push myself? Is this what it feels like to have my endorphins give up on me?
—– GABA has kicked in —–
I am tired of feeling like I am missing out on life, but I don’t know what else to do. I have always called bullshit on the mainstream mental health movement. I don’t believe in conventional western medicine. It hasn’t worked. It’s just a way of getting people to become dependent on a slew of prescription drugs that you need other prescription drugs to counteract the side effects for. I believe there are natural treatments for just about everything.
Maybe there is no normal. Maybe this is normal, and after 35 years, you’d think I’d fucking get used to it. I often feel like my problems couldn’t possibly be that big of a deal, compared to what others are struggling with. But goddamn it, this is my life that I need to be responsible for. Knowing that others are suffering or hurting shouldn’t undermine my own issues or struggles, as they are very real to me. And if I feel like something’s not right, I want to honor that feeling and allow myself to discover it and work through it.
I’d also like to point out that right about when my GABA started kicking in, I went from a sad and teary mess, to numb, calm, and apathetic (much more desirable to the former feeling..) I guess there’s my answer for right now.