Finally Needing Human Interaction

After working from home since late November and staying at home almost all of the time, I think I’m finally wanting human interaction. For most of last year, I was totally alright with being at home in my little realm doing my own thing. But this past weekend, it hit me that I miss going to work, going to the gym and volunteering at the cat cafe. I technically can still do the last 2 things but the COVID numbers are so high, I don’t want to risk it.

I’m not sure what this says about the person that I’ve become. I’ve turned in to somebody who is content with her two cats, doggy and some fictional characters in stories. Finding solace in stories and animals is something I’ve always done since I was a child. But I’m not a child anymore. I should want to be with other people often, right?

Instead of trying to just be ok with the current state of things, I keep looking back on the past. Shit I used to do, how I used to behave. Reflecting is good to an extent, it’s when we can’t look to the future or see what’s in front of us in the present that can be destructive.

My brain feels a bit foggy. My energy levels are low. I have no motivation to do most things even things I usually enjoy. The telltale signs I’m in another episode of depression. I have things I want to do but the drive just isn’t there. It can be so frustrating to want to accomplish goals but having zero energy to accomplish them.

All I can say is meh.

When you’re in a state of depression, how do you find the energy to still do things (fun things and regular adult things)?

Sending you all positive vibes and I hope you’re all well!

A Restful Weekend

In my last post, I was very distressed with what was happening in America last week. In order to cope with it, I more or less did nothing for a while.

Thursday and Friday I barely did anything at work because my mind was so frazzled. Thankfully I had some friends to talk to which was helpful. We chatted about the latest information and speculated about what the future holds for the US.

On Saturday I had plans to grocery shop, exercise and clean. None of those things happened. Instead I did nothing which was so helpful in the long run. I snuggled with my animals while watching the anime “Yuri on Ice” which was the recipe for relaxation. When I woke up on Sunday, I felt like I could properly function again.

I usually beat myself up about “being lazy” but after seeing the positive results of it, maybe I’ve been too hard on myself in the past. I think if I would have pushed myself instead of being gentle, I would have been struggling on Sunday too.

I hope you all are well! Please stay safe especially with the inauguration protests coming up.

Reflections: My Childhood Safe Space

Growing up I always felt uncomfortable in my own skin. Like I was wearing a sweater that was too tight all of the time. It was a perpetual awkwardness that I couldn’t shake until I was in 8th grade or so. I was still shy and awkward but the imaginary sweater didn’t feel so uncomfortable.

When I was in 2nd grade my mom started dating after her and my dad got divorced. She took 2 years off then started dating this guy who had two kids, one 2 years older than me and the other 4 years older. They would all come over and that was my cue to hide in my room.

My childhood safe space away from this family I wanted to do with was my room. But within my room, I would play Britney Spears’ “Oops…I Did It Again” album on my cassette player while reading whatever book that could transport me to anywhere else.

I have a vivid memory of reading a Sailor Moon manga. I loved watching Sailor Moon so I was really happy to find the manga at my community library. I no longer was confined to the half hour episode after school, I could go on adventures with the Sailor Scouts whenever I wanted.

Instead of running around the house was kids I didn’t care for, I stayed in my room where I could enjoy the things I liked most: music and reading.

Did you have a special place you liked to go as a kid? If so, what did you do there? Do you have similar habits as an adult?

Nothing Good

2020 has been a very difficult year for everybody on the planet. The fact that so many awful things have happened on a grand scale as well as in my own realm have been getting me down. I feel like the waves of depression are pulling me in to the dark ocean that I know so well.

It feels like every day a new piece of bad news comes to my doorstep. I hear it then carry that weight on my shoulders until it becomes unbearable. Until I collapse under the weight.

It’s exhausting to have more bad than good in my life. The stark contrast is too much sometimes and I find myself curled up in bed scrolling through TikTok in attempt to find momentary relief. A silly skit, a k-pop fan cam or a cute kitten to calm my brain.

I hope things are going well in your life.

There’s So Much in My Head

I’m at a spot in my life where I have so much going on in my head and heart that I’m terrified to look inside. The thought of sitting down to reflect on my own, in a blog post or with my trusted therapist scare me. I know if I open the box, I can’t close it.

I feel that if I dive into what is troubling me, I’ll cry and never be able to stop. So instead I keep pushing it down, sweeping it under the rug. Right now the pile under this imaginary rug is the size of both of my cats.

I can’t bare to face reality or the truth I keep tucked away in my heart. It’s much too painful for me to come to terms with.

I want to talk to my therapist about it but I don’t have the strength. Every day I consider making an appointment but I can’t. This is the first time that i am having trouble opening up to my therapist. She has seen me at my worst, seen me cry countless times.

But what’s making me sad, I can’t speak it. Because if I say it that makes it real, it makes it true.

I’m not ready for the truth. I just want to live in my comfort zone for a while longer. I’m not ready to give it up.

I’ve Got Nothing

I don’t know if it’s the never ending waves of bad news, how the stars are aligned or what, but I feel emotionally exhausted. A new season of depression is setting on my mind.

My horoscope this morning even asked, “Megan, are you depressed?”

The past week or two I have found it difficult to function like a human being. On a normal day, I’m a relatively talkative, smiley person who enjoys being with the people I love. Lately depression has been making me almost dread each day. My patience is as thin as a spaghetti noodle so just about everything irritates me.

When I get cranky like this, I get annoyed at myself. It’s a cycle that makes me want to sleep all day until I’m no longer in this state any longer.

I feel like I have nothing to give, nothing to offer the world at this time. Is it possible to take a timeout where nobody bothers me and I can be a slug?

One positive thing is that this episode of depression has brought me make to the blogging world so that’s a plus.

Reader, I hope that you are doing better than me and are feeling some bit of joy this September.

So. Much. Anxiety.

It took me a week to ask my coworker if he could connect my computer to the printer. A WEEK! I had no reason to be nervous to ask but my anxiety had me in a chokehold. I had spoken to him numerous times about a variety of topics, he’s a nice dude from what I can tell. But there was something holding me back from asking for help.

My anxiety said, “Megan you’ve had him do so much shit on your computer already, stop asking for help, he’s probably annoyed.” His job is IT guy so it’s what they pay him to do!

On Wednesday and Thursday I had my head between my legs to try and calm myself down because I was so anxious. I tried to listen to some of my favorite pop music to lift me up but it didn’t help.

Every time I get a new job my mental health takes a nose dive. During my 8 hour days I am buzzing with anxiety over speaking to my coworkers and trying to make a good first impression for my boss and supervisor. I leave the office and my mood drops into a depressive state. I force myself to keep busy so I don’t get caught up in my head.

I hope that this anxiety and depression does not last for ages.

Hooky or Mental Health Day?

I have put in my letter of resignation at work and will be starting my new job on Nov. 12 which is much too far away. The best way to describe it to the world is having senioritus at 26 and not being in school.

If you’re not sure what I’m talking about, at least in America, when you’re in your final year of high school or university people get senioritus meaning they don’t want to do any work. They’re bored and ready for the next step.

I don’t want to do anything at work right now. I am absolutely dreading going tomorrow which is a way I haven’t felt at my current job before. I’ve usually felt comfortable enough to get through the day when my mental health isn’t the greatest. If I can’t handle it, I go home early.

Feeling the heavy weight of depression for the first time in a while has really been challenging. I’m in that rut where the thought of leaving my house sounds horrible and all I want to do is chill with my pets.

If I choose to not go to work one of the days this week, is that playing hooky or taking a mental health break?

Sure I had the weekend to kind of chill, I mainly shopped and cleaned the house, but I want another day.

**This is where the post gets a little long so you can totally skip this part and I’ll let you know when to come back for the conclusion**

But there’s something else behind not wanting to go other than depression. I take photos as part of my job. I’ve been doing client portraits for the last couple months which has been rewarding for me. What makes this shoot scheduled for tomorrow different is that the client wanted to go to a nearby park to have a shoot with her twin babies who are 10 months old.

I told my supervisor about this and she scoffed, “You’re going to do a family photoshoot with babies? Somebody else is coming along with you, right? I think you should have someone else come with you.”

It hit me in a sensitive spot that has now developed a bruise. I feel incredibly insecure about my ineptitude with babies/young children. It makes me feel like a failure as a woman.

So I don’t want to go and feel like a fool trying to do a shoot with a family while a coworker has to babysit me. The thought of it is humiliating! Therefore I don’t want to go.

**We are back!**

I really want to take a mental health day tomorrow just to be at home. To relax, read, finish season 3 of Jessica Jones (omg it’s ssssooo good) and be with my pets. I feel guilty bailing (see my recent post about me being a flake here) on people especially since the client is counting on me! But I just flat out don’t want to do it.

Any advice, blogosphere?

Speaking Up is Hard

This post is inspired by autumnskiesblog’s post on The Bipolar Writer. She wrote about how it is difficult for her to speak when somebody asks her a question or for her input. I relate to this so much so I wanted to share my experience too.

All throughout school I would almost never raise my hand to answer a question. Getting called on out of the blue was a fate as bad as getting yelled at by the teacher. Teachers felt like they had to call on me because I rarely raised my hand. I either didn’t have anything to say or I was nervous that my answer was wrong.

In college it was the same. One of my professors actually confronted me about it. Her name was Dr. Simcox, very smart and serious woman, who wondered why I never contributed in class. I flat out told her the truth.

I said, “I don’t have anything to say and I don’t want to get the answer wrong.”

I have always been afraid of sounding stupid or saying the wrong thing in front of a lot of people. Oddly enough I didn’t have those worries when I performed minor roles in the plays in high school.

Those fears have stayed with me all of my life. The fear of speaking up (even if it would mean something positive could happen for myself) has held me back. I often leave a situation regretting that I didn’t say something that I wanted to.

I’ve worked with my therapist to try to speak up in meetings at work or in general conversations with other humans. The conversations with my cats go very differently.

Yesterday I found the courage to speak up in a meeting. I don’t know where it came from but I opened my mouth and gave my opinion. My idea was shot down but I think that was good practice to realize that if I’m wrong about something, I can survive it.

Seeing My Past

Monday was the first time it was warm enough to be wearing shorts this year where I live in America. It is always exciting when it starts to feel like spring especially when it is around my birthday (which is this Saturday)!

I was sitting in my boyfriend’s car while he went to get us pizza for dinner. I looked down at my legs which were covered in scars. Sadly they have not faded like I hoped that they would.

*Before you go any further please check yourself because I’m going to talk about self-harm. If you are not in the place to read something like this please check out a different post of mine! Like this or this.*

They’re scars from 2016 when I was really struggling with self-harm during my episode of severe depression. During that time I didn’t care what my body looked like, I wanted the relief that cutting brought to me at my lowest point.

I don’t regret doing what I did to myself during those horrible months. I regret other times that I have self-harmed but not then.

“But Megan why?” you might ask.

A great question! I was having constant suicidal thoughts, wasn’t eating and wanted all of the pain I was in to end. My mind told me that the only way for me to escape my suicidal thoughts was to end my life.  So instead of doing that, I cut myself.

I had been struggling with self-harm for 5 years at that point so this negative coping skill was one that I was very familiar with.

I’m not encouraging anybody to self-harm as a way to cope with mental illness. But as I reflect back on that time in my life, I give myself a pass. I wasn’t myself, my mind wasn’t functioning properly at all.

Even though I am left with the scars on my body, I forgive myself for it all.

I don’t think forgiveness is spoken about much among people who struggle with self-harm. It really should be though! We have to forgive ourselves for what we did when we weren’t feeling mentally well. We forgive then try to find a different coping skill next time.

I still have scars from when I began cutting at 18 so I know these will not fade for a long time. I have to accept my past, love myself despite my challenges and be confident even though my past pain is carved onto my body.

If you struggle with self-harm, have you forgiven yourself? If not, what’s holding you back? Leave me a comment please!