Always the Simple Things

Time to be cliche again. I can’t help it sometimes.

Lately I’ve been “depressed”. I don’t want to say simply depressed because I doubt that its serious or clinical depression, it’s only been a few days, but the past few days have been pretty rough. No significant change to my life, but old problems I’ve tried to avoid have been catching up with me, and thoughts I’ve previously put to the back of my mind crept to the forefront of my consciousness once more.

It started with a dream. I dreamt I was supposed to go back to Austria, with all the same people from this summer, and words can literally not describe the joy I felt in that dream. Then, I missed the flight, and woke up. I knew it was just a dream, but I couldn’t help but allow old thoughts and fears to return to me. When I first came back from Austria, I was afraid I was never going to have an experience as great as that. I hate growing up and want to stay this age forever, because as much as I want to experience new things I cannot let the past go (easily at least).

Things just seemed to spiral after that. For about five or six days, I woke up every morning with a terrible sickness in my stomach that reminded me how seemingly pathetic my life was. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back to soccer because I feel like I don’t fit in, and I envied my friends who had extracurricular activities where they felt they were among family. I was feeling insecure about my relationships with my family and friends, and was angry that only one could see how depressed I was (which was false, because my parents did ask me what was wrong, and my friend noticed my icky thinking face during school and looked concerned). Everything agitated me and I hated everything.

Today a few things happened. My friend took an interest in what was wrong. An assignment I wasn’t sure if I had written well was praised by my teacher-not just praised, exalted. Her exact words were “Yow!” and she asked if she could cite it for her next class. I went to an after school teacher competition and just had fun, and felt the rush of true competition, even though I wasn’t participating.

But the most important thing was coming home, where my dad was watching old vintage country music videos. Lately I’ve taken a liking to old country. The song that came on immediately was Billy Dean’s “Billy the Kid”, about missing the innocence of childhood. You would think this would deepen my depression, but it didn’t.

It made me realize that everyone goes through growing up and leaving old things behind for new adventures. Everyone loses their innocence and childhood. Everyone has to go through this, and that means I also have to. However, this means that I’m not alone, and whatever issues I have to go through, someone is always going to be there to help me, or to understand what I’m going through.

“We’re dying in America,

at the end of the millennium. 

We’re dying in America 

to come into our own. 

And when you’re dying in America,

at the end of the millenium

you’re not alone; 

I’m not alone. “

-RENT (Larson)

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