moods
There's only so much I can do to make depression, verbal self-evisceration, and crushing separation anxiety interesting.
I know what happens to people who get on this cycle. I lived it all through college, and more importantly, I watched Daria.
I don't want to become the Misery Chick. Or more likely, given my utter resignation on gender issues, the Misery Dude. Or as I slowly, sadly drift away from you all on uspol, the Misery Shitlord.
moods
Please just understand that I don't want anything but company and reassurance right now. Nobody else is expected to come in and just fix this. Nobody is expected to radically change their behavior.
I just need a place where I can talk out loud about this stuff. Having it all just echo around in my head by itself is scary.
These words, and Peggy, are basically all I feel like I have left. Losing more family ain't helping.
Thank you for those who have borne with me here.
moods
@zebratron2084 It's not driving me off, seeing you work things out in words here. Explicitly, if you want to rant or ramble and are concerned about doing it 'in public' you're always welcome to babble into my email.
moods
@Momentrabbit You'll come to regret your kindness I'm sure. XD <3
moods
@zebratron2084 I never regret my kindnesses as much as I regret my cruelties. 💜
moods
@zebratron2084 I'm intensely grateful for the people who stuck with me through the depths of my depression. I'll stick with you as long as I'm capable. :) <3
moods
@zebratron2084 therapy never did a damn thing for me either--except this most recent batch, which was basically three sessions to be told "well, it sounds like there's stuff you want to go do, so--go do it! otherwise you seem okay. come back if anything else comes up!" which was refreshingly honest, but not exactly helpful. :P
what *has* helped is DRUG. and acclimating to DRUG.
*gentle nosebump*
moods
@green Yeah, exactly. I had one guy in Cambridge who was kind and tolerant (and, um, sexy as fuck) but too mundane to really grasp what I needed out of "sanity." And then there was my art therapist here in town, who was SUPER amazing and I kinda wish we'd never had a pro relationship with so we could just be buds, but... was just far, far too positive and supportive to really dig into the NASTY stuff buried in the basement.
moods
I miss everybody. I honestly don't know what more I can do to fix things, from this state of low energy.
Trying to get back into therapy is turning into a bureaucratic clusterfuck and a painful reminder of class issues, and it's not helping that it seems to be people's first and only answer for dealing with these things.
And honestly, I've only had one therapist who's ever really been worth a damn. Not sure therapy is really good for my anarchist sensibilities. >_<