I woke up at 1 p.m. which was not technically sleeping in, at least not for me. I laid in bed on my phone for a while and then read for an hour or so because I missed reading a lot and I didn't really know why I hadn't read since, well I don't know the last time.
My dad came home and talked to me for a while but I don't really remember what he said. Some friends asked if I wanted to go to the res, I said yes but I planned on flaking out because I didn't want to go to the res or ... anywhere. I wanted to lay there. Actually, no I didn't. I wanted to do nothing. Laying there was something and I had no energy to do something. Yes, laying there took energy, so much energy, energy I did not have. My mind was running a marathon and no matter how badly I willed it to stop running, it continued on and on. I wanted to be unaware, asleep ... but permanently because temporarily just wasn't enough anymore. I had already slept for sooo long though. I couldn't sleep anymore, as badly as I wanted to, my body wouldn't allow it.
Soon there were several friends on my door step wanting to do something fun which I'm usually pretty good at putting on a show, so I really do seem like a good candidate to go to when someone wants to have fun. I knew that I had faked my happiness for so long that it was starting to become too hard. But I motivated myself to answer the door when I heard them knock. I could tell I looked like death frozen and then reheated by the looks on their faces. I cared, but I didn't do anything about it because I had no energy to. What they thought had SO much value to me but this time I couldn't bring myself to put the slightest of effort into my appearance. I went with them for a bit but then I started to feel sick and my body was aching, so I left. I then took eight ibuprofen and laid back in bed. And then the race that had been a steady jog when I was with people because a full sprint, a sprint that hurt every part of my soul. I wished it to go away, yet it would not. The overthinking was from one extreme to another and then... I fell asleep. Hallelujah, no more thinkin, for now. I woke up at 8 pm and watched a movie, kind of; I was still thinking about everything - him, my mom, college, Kayli, my grandma, the future, the past, my mistakes, my misunderstanding, the gospel, it just never ended and I don't believe it ever will. All of the sudden I decided I wanted to go to the theater. I never want to do anything so I knew this small and insignificant but very real spark must be acted on instantly or it would surely fade. I knew there were a lot of people who would have gone with me, but I went alone. I didn't get ready at all even though I would have liked to get ready because I knew people would see me and I cared so much about what they thought. And surely enough, people looked at me with odd expressions, it could have been my appearance or the fact that I was alone but either way it hurt. The movie was The Fault in Our Stars. It's a movie about cancer and death, I didn't even shed a tear. Numb. Getting to the numb stage is both a blessing and a burden, because feelings are so extradorinary but when you have a mind like mine they are terrifying. I then started to have deep thoughts about life and found myself at Maverick buying Laffy Taffys (#ironic) to munch on while I drove around contemplating.
Clearly, I am depressed. Don't worry I'm taking antidepressants every night and have gone to therapy many times.I found myself lying to ny last therapist because I cared what my therapist thought of me. I cared what everyone thought of me and still do. My heart has learned to be numb. I used to get terrified at scary movies and now I watch them in hope to feel something. I watch sad shows only to find that I have become heartless. I drive at dangerous speeds without a seatbelt because I want to dance with death. I refuse to kill myself because of one thing; I desire celestial glory. If only I could be murdered, drown, die in a car crash or really anyway; anything to take me away. I want to die. I think about dying everyday. Sometimes I feel a little better but it's only like a strike of lightning; it is there, and then it is gone. In the bright but quickly fading flash I hurt people because I make promises to them or let them in because I feel okay for a minute but then can't put effort into maintaining my comitments which throws me down another bottomless pit of sadness to realize I have become a person who hurts others constantly.
Who wants to be around someone who is depressed? No one. Nobody wants to hurt me either, they understand how broken I am so they stick around until I break them too. Being around someone who is drowning in depression is not fun. I certainly don't want to be around someone who is going to bring me down. So how can I expect people to want to be around me? That my friends, is why I must fake happiness.
I always think nobody knows the depth of my despair, but I also know that is not true. I know that their is a Christ who has suffered worse than I have; yet, has felt exactly as I have felt and I know He can fix me. But in order for Him to fix me it requires effort on my part. That's the problem, I have no energy to apply any effort. I am overwhelmed with hate for myself and cannot find an ounce of strength to pray or study or even take care of myself. I've made a promise to myself and now to you too; I will NOT kill myself until I've read the whole Book of Mormon. And I know once I've read it I won't want to kill myself, I just need to get to that point.
I see things so honestly. I see things for how they truly are. I know what people think when they look at me or when they talk to me. I know what others think when they look at others. I know how human nature is and it can be both beautiful and terrible. People are who they are for millions of reasons and it's not entirely their fault that the world has molded them into who they are brig good and bad. I also understand that people can change with the right amount of effort on their part for the better or for the worse. I understand that people are usually unaware of their effect on others, nevertheless their opinions still have very much value, at least to me. I love people and I love their perspectives, everything about them changes me. I'm shaped by everyone and everything. I'm vulnerable. People break me and build me and support me and tear me down but only because I let them. Why do I let them? Simply because I value them more than I value myself.
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