Tuesday, November 17, 2009

I Promise The Next One Will Be Happier

Do you ever get the urge to start a conversation with a question? or is it a necessity? I ask this because it took me 5 minutes to figure out how to start this blog post. I'm not too used to writing anymore, and I felt it difficult to even start this. I even had a no nonsense title that probably has nothing to do with what I want to write about; Impersonally Honest.

Well, to talk about what I wanted to now. So, today I was reading some blogs that belong to my friends, and I thought to myself "what wonderful writing". Sure these are just posts and not necessarily written to be professional, but they are so honest, I can actually imagine the authors speaking these words, but I realized that I don't post quite enough and one of the reasons is that not may people seem to read this, maybe they do, I don't know. I think I tend to drive them away with my negative posts and pretentiously not-funny jokes (like this entire sentence), yet it seems like that's all I feel. It's not what I want to feel, but it just happens. In fact, I'm just BSing this post and it feels depressing.

So, when I was in Junior High, I had forgotten how to be happy. I was pissed off all the time, sad, failing classes and I even started drinking. I was not a happy person, I had my favorite teacher die several weeks before starting school, I really had no friends to talk to and the one girl I liked saw me as a brother. It's sad and overly dramatic, but this in essence is probably the root of my depression. In High School, or at least my sophomore and junior year, I still felt alone, regardless of the friends that I actually had. I was still failing classes and making very little academic progress, I wasn't as angry, I was sad. Sad and Alone. It still seems dramatic and nobody did this to me, but me. My parents became aware of this and took me to a doctor and I was diagnosed with depression. But I was just a little happier for one reason, Theater.

It seems that Theater saved my life, not so much the art of it, but the person that taught me. Sherry Smith is like a guardian angel to me, I consider her as such. In my sophomore year I sat in the back corner, black hoody on my head and a quiet disposition. She then introduced me to Improv. Still quiet, lonely and not quite fitting in anyplace I did improv and found a naturally talent in it. She taught me more on the subject and I took more classes. I helped and became a thespian, I felt like I belonged finally. I helped tremendously and won several awards, not for my acting ability, but for my contributions to the class. Helping, working with everyone and going out of my way to build and organize things. I was even named Thespian Student of the Year in my Senior year. I was happy, but the whole time, I still felt alone and depressed.

How could I succeed, have fun and be surrounded by people, yet still feel so alone? I had nobody for me to share all this with. Sure, there's your classmates, but it seems like I was just... with them, not a part of them. They were friends, laughing and hanging out, and I just stuck to the side. I had friends, but most of them left, had other friends (which is not a bad thing), had jobs, had lives. I had nothing, but theater. My mother made me very sheltered and in effect left me fairly antisocial, in fact I hold a lot of spite towards my mother for it and that's what drives me to move out.

And even still in College, I still feel alone, yeah I chill with some of my best friends, yet they all still have their lives and problems and other friends and days like today I end up alone and on facebook. I read people's blogs about hanging out with friends, moving on in life and just being awesome, yet I stand still. In college living in high school.

I still live with the stress of depression and a constant fight for me is smoking, I don't yet everyday I wake with the urge to go buy a pack and start puffing away. Sure, by 10 am it's a distant memory, yet to wake up with the urge everyday, it's not a happy thing. I sound yet again, so dramatic. Well to cover the stress and to keep my mind clear of unhappy thoughts I've gotten two jobs, Sears and GameStop, and still not enough sometimes, even with improv. It seems as if Improv is the only time I'm genuinely happy, until recently though. For me the real moment of true happiness is when the team goes to Village Inn. I love it, it makes me feel like I belong, and I don't think anyone really realizes how important this is for me.

The real reason I do anything is because I want to feel like I belong, that feeling is like a drug to me. When people say "I think person A, Person B and Person C and I need to get together for Activity" right in front of me, I feel like crap, I'm not important enough to be included. Thanks for the memories.

Although I'll be terribly honest at the moment, the one thing driving my depression at the moment is that I'm single. There I go being dramatic over a little thing. I feel like I NEED a girlfriend to release to, to hold me and to make her happy so I feel like I belong. It's horrible and selfish. And the worst part is that only one girl will do and she probably doesn't care much for me. Living her own life, having her own friends, living in a place all her own and away from me. I make it sound like she's wrong, yet I am the bad guy in this story, and that doesn't help.

Well That's the end, there's no happy ending to this post (or story (me being overly dramatic, yet again)). I don't have a conclusion at all, its open ended. The reason for this isn't to depress or to be dramatic, but to give a little insight to the inner workings of my emotions. You probably now know more than you wanted.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

If it helps any (it probably won't) I've struggled with terrible depression my whole life. You're definitely not alone in this.

musicgirljen said...

I've also been dealing with depression since about my sophomore year of high school (so, thirteen years, thereabouts?). It's OK, you know. This is who you are, and we love you the way you are. :-)

S.R. Braddy said...

You don't need women. They're all JERKS!