Feeling #ForeverAlone on Valentine’s Day?

It could be worse. Your boyfriend could have broken up with you the week of Valentine’s day.


I’m still in a period of mourning-currently I’m in the guilt stage where I’m looking back on what I might have done differently to prevent the break-up, though I suppose it would not have changed much. What are the other stages of breaking up I have gone through so far?

First it was denial, which occurred right after we broke up. Nothing really felt that different at the time, so it was hard to realize I no longer had a boyfriend. In the middle of my stage of denial, I had a night of crying hysterically and thinking how unfair our break-up was because I really love him. I had thought our relationship was perfect, but now I see from his side it wasn’t, and I wonder how long it had been that way.

I continued with my denial until I suppose the end of the next day, because I had gone through a whole school day that had no involved seeing him. Though we agreed to be friends (because we do have a fantastic friendship) I conveyed I needed space for some time in order to get over him.

In order to push through my lingering sense of denial, I listened to some really sad break-up songs (mostly Taylor Swift) so I could get some crying out of the way. They hurt a lot, but I believe they will help me in the long run. Acting like a strong, I-don’t-care-we’re-over type of woman in real life doesn’t help anything; in my opinion, it simply prolongs the pain because one does not confront their emotions and let them wallow and become stronger inside. My friend also shared an excellent Sara Bareilles song with me that was exactly what I needed-a song saying that I was still devastated by the break-up, and would not get over this guy very quickly, but one day I would. At this time I truly entered the  mourning stage.

I’m still very much sad, but I will survive. Though I might have mixed feelings on why we broke up, I am definitely not mad at him for his timing. I would rather be broken up with prior to Valentine’s Day than to think my relationship is perfectly fine on Valentine’s Day when it’s really not, only to be broken up with a few days later.

Though there are a lot of songs I could relate to my situation, the one that puts me the most at ease is Taylor Swift’s “Sad Beautiful Tragic”. Despite the tragedy of the relationship, it was very beautiful at the same time, and once the pain has passed I will be able to look back on it and reminisce of how wonderful (albeit bumpy) this relationship had been.

Thanks to Dr. Horrible’s Sing-along-Block, I no longer say “Everything happens for a reason”. Just, “everything happens”. And you deal with it.


What’s Wrong With Me?

No, this is not some deep psychological or personality-related question, or even self-loathing. I’m just seriously asking, what exactly is physically wrong with my brain?

So far I have received few answers. My therapist believes my depression is genetic, not situational (which we both thought at first), but naturally I doubt this because I do not have any concrete evidence and often wonder how I could possibly be depressed when I have so many wonderful things in my life.

In response to my therapist’s theory, she suggested a low dose of antidepressants again, and I obliged willingly. My mother, who may not completely understand depression and is considerably against antidepressants (while they do not frighten me, I know they scare the life out of her), took some persuasion. Somehow my therapist convinced her to look into a psychiatrist and possibly schedule an appointment.

Then, my therapist thinks I might have seasonal affective disorder, which I am not so sure about. In previous years I have never noticed being sadder during the winter months; notwithstanding this, my therapist also suggested I get a full spectrum lamp/light bulb which would combat SAD (pretty ironic, that acronym, eh?).

If that was not enough, she also believes my sadness could be related to those “female hormones” and “that time of the month” because just before “that time” I usually get a tad more depressed than normal. I think.

I also think I have some symptoms of BPD and Bipolar disorder, but self-diagnosal is not effective, so I will keep my mouth shut on those two.

Unfortunately depression is one of these diseases that are quite arbitrary in the process of discovering what is really wrong. I suppose I should just sit back and enjoy these multiple doctor visits because many people do not have the opportunity or support required to seek answers.

Nerds, Snow, and Drugs

The end of this semester has been pretty busy. Though I don’t have to take any finals, I’ve had the FAFSA and CSS profile and a final college application to complete; however, it feels awesome to be done applying, and now my parents just have to update the FAFSA and CSS when we finally get our actual taxes done.

This last week has also been crazy stressful due to the Shore Bowl. My school’s Science League entered this year, and we practiced a lot this week in preparation. The event, which was on Saturday at Rutgers, was a buttload of fun and pretty interesting.

The adventure started off as any true adventure should, with a major setback or conflict. In our case, our adviser did not show up on time. He had accidentally overslept and his wake up call had not come to wake him up, which resulted in about an hour and a half of waiting on the school bus, worrying our butts off, before arriving at the Shore Bowl very late.

Our A team missed their first match, but they later thanked our adviser for being late because the team they would have gone up against turned out to be the winning team and slaughtered the competition. I was on the B team, which I attribute to the fact our adviser tried to split us up by strengths, and the only other AP Chem kid is my genius boyfriend who definitely should have been on the A team. I did mind quite a bit, but it didn’t matter in the end because both teams lost all of their matches. =D

It was fun to see that I actually knew some things. I let my little sister, who was the alternative for our team,  punch me in the face (not really) because she had a right answer and the rest of the team (mostly me) thought she was wrong. We ended up getting 0 points for that round. We had a ton of fun together though, and it was one of those rare days in which I was truly happy.

Plus I got a snazzy shirt, two awesome pins, and a Rutgers bag out of it. Considering all of the other schools were academies, two of which specialized in oceanographic studies, we did pretty good.

Flash forward to today, and it’s snowing AGAIN. I’ve accepted the fact I will never get out of high school (really they’ll just take off from our spring vacation). Not that I cared because I wouldn’t have had to go in anyway, but this means I can’t go to my friends house today.

Finally, I’ve been thinking about the prospect of antidepressants a lot more lately. Nowadays I literally hate everything and everyone, and I can only see all of the bad in the universe. To me, the world is a terrible place and nothing seems to change that image. Furthermore, this view of the world decreases my motivation, because, honestly, what’s the point? There is so much in the world I will never be able to experience-I only have a small sliver of time in the vastness of the universe and will only be able to witness things from my limited point of view.

Then I hate myself for being so negative and am certain I need to isolate myself from my friends because I”m sure my negative nature is bringing them all down. I can’t stand to be around my family anymore, and often need to hide away from them because my anxiety level skyrockets around them. I’ve started to believe I am truly a bad person, and have spent a lot of time doing absolutely nothing productive.

When I make a mistake, it ruins the whole day. I was supposed to fill out a scholarship from which I was sure I would get some money, but because I emailed the wrong person about my recommendation, I started to hyperventilate and cry and hate myself. The rest of the night I locked myself in my bedroom and cried and triggered myself with Tumblr and sad songs. The pain of sadness is so familiar that, when given the chance, I seek it out rather than try to fight it. The time I had put into that scholarship, as well as the time my teacher had spent writing the recommendation, had been wasted.

The worst part about all of this is that I see how much I’m completely wasting my life being sad and unproductive, and that depresses me even more. My mom is really against antidepressants-I think they scare her-but my therapist has promised small doses.

So why haven’t I considered antidepressants an option until now? I’m not scared of side effects or getting addicted. I really just don’t like the idea of messing with my mind. Because depression is a disease of the mind, I feel like it’s almost a part of me;  depression, to an extent, is who I am. By using antidepressants I will be suppressing or at least regulating an immense portion of my being. I’m not sure if this is making any sense or going anywhere, but that’s how I feel.

I’ve begun to accept the idea of antidepressants being like any other medicine which helps to cure a disease.  Sometime before my next appointment I have to bring the subject up to my parents (or at least my mom). I’ve discussed it already with my friends, and two of them support my decision. The third is a bit frightened by antidepressants, but states if they can help me then it’s okay.