Depression, My Thoughts, Social Anxiety

When There Are No Words

It is cloudy today.

In the morning, I had a short presentation, which I was quite nervous about. When I was called up, a moment of silence passed between the teacher calling out my number and me getting up; I was distracted by something, and this was a bit embarrassing for me, but as it turns out, that embarrassment was for little use. I did perfectly fine, and in the middle of talking, I was surprised by my flow of words. Granted, the presentation didn’t require much speaking, but I was proud of myself. I am proud of myself:)

It was set up to be a perfect day, but I suppose it wasn’t meant to be.

I was reading a post by Nat from Just a Nervous Girl, and I related to it very much, especially because that’s my mood right now, as it has been for the past couple of hours.

Without my depression and social anxiety, I don’t seem to be very much. I’ll say that in the most straightforward way possible- I know it’s not true, I know it. But that’s how I feel, and how I feel is how I know- or rather, at this moment, it takes precedence.

I’m obviously quite socially awkward, which makes me feel awful.

We came back from this spring break and headed immediately to school, and my poor social skills were again shunted front and center as I was forced to interact throughout my day. I very much wish that it were still spring break; maybe I could finish all of my endless homework and projects and study on time, maybe I could have an adequate amount of sleep, maybe I would have more time to relax and do what I actually want to do.

All this time trying to talk makes my energy sapped, especially when it’s cloudy outside. I starting to believe that the weather affects my mood a lot more than I think. I just don’t know what to say. And what I do say makes me feel stupid, as I force myself to make small talk that becomes noise lost in the chaos of people that actually do know what to say.

I wish I were normal, is what I’d actually say.

But what is normal? It’s been too long for me to actually know, to feel what normal feels like. It’s been years- eight years. Truth be told, there is no normal- there is just a life with mental disorders and a life without.

I’m tired of being always being the third wheel, for some people, the backup friend, the one who’s uninteresting, the one who ends up being quiet by myself because I don’t know what to say.

I wish I could discover myself under the bubble wrap and the tissue paper and the gloomy wraps of depression and fear from social anxiety. Because I feel warped right now, like an optical illusion, not enough to be one nor the other. I don’t know what’s inside, but what’s inside may have an escape route.

I don’t know what to say, but I do know what to write.

And I think that is enough.

C.

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Blog, My Thoughts

My Blog and Me: The Troubled Couple

Lately, I’ve been a terrible blogger.

I’ve procrastinated on posts and struggled to stay on my schedule of Monday and Thursday, run out of interesting post ideas and motivation, and have kind of simply thrown things at you. Last-minute, half-baked ideas as well as sorry excuses for why my writing is virtual trash, complaints about how I’m running out of time.

You’re welcome.

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(kidding;)

Now that I look back at my blog posts, I think that I’m pretty proud of them. Of most of them, at least. But I don’t think that I have enough of the content that I would like to have.

Even if the posts look alright on the surface, there is one heck of an ugly framework supporting it invisibly. A lot of nights procrastinating and freaking out and typing frantically while math homework lies by ignored, a lot of internal anguish, stress and pressure with the upcoming deadline, even if it’s self-imposed.

Not to mention the fear of not being good enough or being judged that comes along with the darling social anxiety. The blue PUBLISH button is something to be fought and conquered before being pressed, after the internal debate and whispers in my mind that tell me what I’m writing isn’t good enough, people won’t like it, I’m complaining too much, I sound too happy, I sound too depressed.

I’m ashamed to say that, more than once, I’ve thought things too depressing to be published. Talks of depression would repulse visitors and drive away views.

My blog, obviously, is supposed to deal a lot with depression. I’m freaking “A Girl and Depression”. A girl with depression too afraid to speak of her depression? A girl who hides behind her smile, sometimes genuine and sometimes not, in both the real life and behind someone’s LED screen?

Originally, my blog was created to deal solely with my mental health. But I never wanted to be restricted to one topic, to always just talk about my depression and social anxiety.

Then I discovered some amazing personal blogs, and I think that’s something that I want to do. It’ll take some time, but I’ll see if I can transition into more personal blogging- telling you more about me, what I’m up to, my thoughts on things. That’s when my goal for this blog was changed, and I introduced my happy side.

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But nowadays, my happy side comes in flashes, and I want to talk about my bad days as well. The real dirty, dark and gritty depression and social anxiety, the type that makes “neurotically neutral” squirm, what some people try to avoid reading. And I’m ashamed that I want to shield that side. That I want to bury part of the truth that so many others need to hear.

And for that I am sorry.

Maybe I’m too hard on myself (I probably am). For one thing, I really like the majority of my posts! My blog probably doesn’t seem like a mound of dung, because it isn’t (which is disputable:p) but this is how I feel from the other end of the screen. Looking back at my posts, none of them are as bad as I felt they were. But it was simply the process that completely stressed me out, and quite frankly made blogging a terrifying chore.

Promises for myself:

  • I won’t procrastinate, for I’ll post when I want, which is normally more often than just twice a week.
  • I won’t keep anything deemed too gloomy or too dark from my blog if I want to talk about it.
  • I will write more about me, and what’s up in my life.
  • I don’t like the inflexibility of a fixed schedule, so I declare its sudden demise at this instant.
  • I will write whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want.
  • I’m going to make blogging fun for me again!

To be completely honest, I’m getting an extreme amount of self-doubt about this whole post right now; I am resisting the temptation to dive back in and edit this whole post ferociously, and perhaps to even delete it. So if you see this post, I probably just clicked that blue button with my eyes closed, desperately quickly before closing my laptop.

Well, that’s it for today. I have to admit that I have a chemistry test tomorrow that I’m not prepared for at all, and it is 11:00 PM, so I really must go.

I hope that you have a fantastic day, all of you! Smile lots and have fun:)

Xx, C ❤️

P.S. quick shout-out to the amazing Adventuring Girl for teaching me how to insert GIFs! Finally…I’ve been trying for so long and it’s never worked 😂thank you, Faith:)

Social Anxiety

So I Tried Too Hard

Since I have social anxiety, I thought that it would be a *fantastic* idea to join the Model UN club at my school. MUN is a program in which simulations of actual United Nations conferences are conducted, and the whole point of it is to talk, giving speeches and cooperating with other “countries”, or students. So my helpful brain told me that it would help with my social anxiety and speaking skills.

As you probably can tell by now, it did not exactly work out.

During the whole conference, (which lasted three days and fifteen hours) I was absolutely miserable. I didn’t talk the whole time- I just nodded, smiled, and offered various affirmations for whatever my partner said. Throughout those horrible hours, a nauseous feeling in my stomach persisted in giving me extreme dread.  I was terrified that someone would talk to me, but I didn’t want anyone to ignore me and just talk to my partner, as they so often did. I stayed in my cushioned chair and scrolled through my phone, or admired the way other students talked so fluidly and with so much self-confidence. Boredom and a fierce headache from a lack of sleep (we arrived home at 11:00 PM) didn’t help.

Maybe the conference wouldn’t have been as boring to me if I’d talked but again, I have social anxiety. I was just about as ready to give a speech as a fish was ready to turn into lightbulb and fly.

Even an average person would be nervous in front of TWO HUNDRED immaculately dressed, intensely competitive, serious students.

But I didn’t talk when I could’ve, either- there were many times I could’ve tried to talk, when we weren’t giving actual speeches, but I couldn’t bring myself to get past the lump in my throat or the rock in my stomach.

Afterwards, guilt settled in, thanks to my perceived failures at the conference. It was, to sum it up, completely awful. My attempt to make myself “better” backfired, because my faults became all too clear to me.

Right now, I’m OK, though. “Happy” once again:) No, really actually genuinely happy, not just smiling. It’s funny (not so funny) how bouts of depression can just strike and disappear, like lightning, but am I glad that it vanished quickly.

And while feeling better about myself, I’ve come to an agreement with myself. No matter how boring, how awful I found this conference, I’m going to try again next year. I know that I overreached this year and expected too much for my first conference, so I’m going to give MUN a chance to work its miracles on me again. I’m sure that MUN, or activities like it, will help me learn how to talk.

My lesson learned: I’ll try hard, but not too hard- and don’t I won’t be too hard on myself when I fall. You can’t conquer a mountain in one day, and if you leap too high, don’t be surprised when you fall down hard.

xoxo, c.,❤