Let's Change the Dating Culture: You deserve better

The state of modern dating is atrocious to me and for a long time I gave into it because it was popular and I figured it was the only way.

Last night, I went out with my boyfriend and two of our friends who had recently started some sort of....well...relationship? dating? chilling? Who knows. Not I'm not saying a label is needed to be happy or for your relationship to matter but they didn't know what the other was thinking of the situation. I asked my girl friend if it was a date and she replied with an awkward "I don't know." I responded saying she had a say in the matter and her response really got to me..."Do I really though?"

YES! OF COURSE YOU DO! 

It amazes me how many awkward mind-games are played among twenty-something year-olds. It is a game of chicken where no one wins. You can never be the first to say what you want, you should wait until they text you first, you should never say I love you first, and on and on and on.

If both parties are "playing it cool" and doing their best to avoid being the first to show real interest then NO ON GETS ANYWHERE! 

If you want it to be a date, you should be able to say so. "Hey, I like you and would like to pursue a casual (or serious) romantic relationship with you." See how easy that was? Now I know easier said than done but maybe that is because of the culture we have created. I have seen both males and females that wanted something more serious in their relationship and suffered because they did not speak up. If you want to be exclusive then tell them. If they say no then you decide if you want to look elsewhere or maybe you keep doing your thing. If you want more than just sleeping together or "chilling" then tell them.

I used to think that commitment and marriage and monogamy seemed so boring and unnecessary. I thought casual "hanaging" and "talking" was the only way.

Here is an important tip: It's not.

Look at people that still love and like eachother after being together for years. You know how they do it? They talk to each other about what they want and expect from the other. Now they may not always agree but that is not the point.

So young'ns: stop playing these messy games. Figure out for yourself what you want and then communicate it. Trust me, it is so much better on the other side.
 

Real Talk

Sometimes I don't think my life is real.

Everything truly good in my life has happened since my hospitalization. My best friend, my boyfriend, my apartment, my life. It has all started since that night. So what if none of this is real and I actually succeeded in my goal of slipping into a coma? What if this is all a dream?

It is sometimes hard for me to remember things or people if they are not in front of me. Even my family, closest friends, and boyfriend can be hard to feel emotional attached to when they are not directly involved in my life at any given moment. Sometimes it is just hard to care. I think about cheating or driving off into the sunset never to be seen again. I don't worry about how it will affect others. I sometimes just leave parties or restaurants without telling anyone. I just wander off. I try to fight the urge but I can't.

Sometimes I want to hurt people. I have graphic images in my mind that I can't control. I take interest in the idea of getting away with a crime because of the intellectual skill involved. Sometimes I lie. Not like little white lies but full on lies. I convinced my family and closest friends that I was going to counseling for months when in fact I was not. I made elaborate stories because it  worked.

I can ruin people with just my words. I can hone in on insecurities and sensitivities and just tear people apart. I often find myself analyzing others to decide their faults. Not in a judgmental way, but in an intellectual and defensive way. It is a fun game I play that also prepares me for an attack if ever needed.

These are problems people are often to afraid to admit. It makes me sound harsh and uncaring but I'm not. In fact, the reason I do not just drive off or harm people or treat my life as if it were nothing but a coma dream, is because ultimately I care for others. I don't want people to hurt or worry. I don't want them to be mad or disappointed with me. so what if this is a coma dream? If I accept that idea what does it change? This is my reality and so I should do my best to keep it in tact. It is hard to admit and very few people know these things about me. But they are true, and I am not alone. So why is it so stigmatized? I don't actually hurt people or commit the heinous crimes from my mind or verbally destroy people. But these are real problems. I feel like a monster because I can't admit that these are real things that my mind does. Many people go through the same things and work so hard to hide them that they eventually snap and lose touch with reality. So here I am admitting my deepest self. The self I hide because it is insane. At my depth that is all I am.

Please don't worry

Somehow my blog has become about my struggles with depression, which I am fine with. I am glad to have somewhere to put into words what it has been like. Before I started this blog, and on occasion still, my mother would send me links to cartoons like Hyperbole and a Half and articles and blogs about people with depression or anxiety and ask me if that was what it was like for me. Since my breakdown and subsequent hospitalization two years ago, she has worked to understand what I was and am going through better. She has minimal personal experience to compare and so it is hard for her. This blog lets her see what I am going through, how my depression and anxiety manifest and affect my life.

But there is a downside to this.

There are times when I am afraid to really open up on here because I know I have family and friends that read this. I am afraid they will judge me, call me crazy, or worry because of what I write. I am torn between telling my story and hopefully helping others see what it is like, and keeping my loved ones from worrying.

Life with depression is hard. There are days where I literally do not leave my bed even if I should. Have you ever developed bedsores from spending so much time in your bed? I have. I have missed so many classes and assignments over the years and flaked on so many social obligations or plans because I could not leave that damn bed. And when I write it out I fear someone will read it and judge me or say that I just need to suck it up or worse will start to worry and see that as me never doing anything I have to. There are a lot of wonderful things in my life and a lot of wonderful moments. That is why I have started Thankful Saturdays. They let me show some of my positives. But these posts aren't for that.

They are to talk about everything I have kept bottled for years. All the pain I have held inside because of fear. All the self-hate and confusion, all the bad thoughts, all the tears I hid, and all the time I spent hiding. Its about time I start sharing my story and I mean all of it. Some people are going to learn very intimate things about me in the next few weeks and it will be hard. But I need to tell them and furthermore, I need try to help people not go through what I did. I went too long without the help I needed and I want to help beat the stigma. I am more than my problems. I am more than a diagnosis. I needed help and I got it. There is no shame in me anymore.

So please do not worry when you read my work and please do not bring it up to me. Share my story and help me make people better. This is not just about me. This is about so much more.

To those who broke my heart

To those who broke my heart,

Thank you. Honestly thank you. If it weren't for you, I would not be who I am today. You made me stronger and smarter. You showed me new things that I may not have seen without you. I found new music and places. You helped me see how much I could love, and showed me that the love I have is special. You showed me all the things I need in a partner and all the things I should avoid. You helped me realize that being an adult is great and not something to be afraid of. Being a responsible person is not boring and being predictable can be wonderful.

Before you, I thought that loving someone was weakness. All I saw was the pain. And even though you caused me pain, you showed me why it was worth trying. And thanks to you, I let myself love. I met a man who is everything I never realized I needed. He isn't like you. You were all so spontaneous and young. I thought that it was fun, at first. But then I realized I want someone I can count on. I need a partner not just a boyfriend. And now I have that. I see the value in him being responsible. I love that he pays his bills as soon as he gets them. I love that he keeps his apartment clean and his room tidy. I love that he doesn't just show me love but shows me respect.

If it weren't for my experiences with you, I would not have seen his value. So thank you. Thank you for making me who I am. Thank you for making me the woman he loves. Thank you for letting me go. If you hadn't, I may still be with one of you and none of you are the person I need. Because I have met him and he is so much more than I ever thought I deserved.

Thank you.

I remember

I remember. I remember the morning my mom called up to me to get up for school and I didn't move. I remember when she called my cell and I made non-committal noises. She asked if I was sick and I said no. She asked if I wanted to go back to sleep and I did. She said I could make my own decision and so I stayed in bed.

I remember the night before Valentines day. I remember coming home from a youth group where I had thanked G-d for helping me not have as much anxiety. I remember working on an assignment and what class it was for. It was tenth grade. I remember my brother distracting me and I screamed. I didn't yell at him but simply screamed. I remember covering my eyes and grasping my scalp. I remember the way it hurt and that I couldn't stop. I called my sister and told her I was upstairs and having an attack. I couldn't calm down. She got my parents and they came up to me worried. They didn't know why I was so upset and they did what they could to calm me. I remember sleeping in the next day and finishing the assignment. I remember going to school with sunken eyes, bruised from my palms pressing into it. I told my friends I had a rough night but avoided details. I remember thinking I was crazy.

I remember the hospital. The ER was a haze and my friends were in and out trying to figure out what was going to happen. The nurse needed urine and when I stood up my legs gave out under me. I remember my mom was there. I was a sophomore in college. I remember the hospital and all the questions. I remember the schizophrenic girl that helped me. I remember my roommate who yelled about the snakes that weren't there. I remember convincing them I was well enough to leave.

I remember the first week out of the hospital. It was hard and overwhelming. Everything was so much louder and brighter. There were so many people. I remember that no one noticed I had been gone those three days and how much that stung. I felt alone. I was alone. I remember needing help.

I remember.

Dear mom,

So I saw this video a while back and it gave me an idea. So I am going to start posting thank you notes. I think we as a society don't say thank you enough. sometimes we just assume they know or think it doesn't matter, but saying thank you can make more of a difference than you realize. So here's to thankful Saturday! In honor of my mother's birthday this past week, let's start with her.

Dear mom,

You have been my number one supporter all my life. You encourage me and stand by me and pick me up when I fall down. You are amazing. From those very first days of struggle, you have stayed with me and helped me through everything. You have loved me unconditionally even when I struggled to love myself. I know that I am curt with you and disrespectful and for that I am sorry, because you deserve nothing but my praise and admiration.

Your strength reminds me that I can do anything. There have been so many times in my life that I was crumbling and you saved me. No matter how old I get, I will always love coming home to one of your delicious meals. When I am sick, you always help me through it. When I feel weak, you remind me I am strong. When i feel alone, you remind me I am loved.

I can never give you the proper thanks you deserve. I can never show you how much I appreciate you. I love you. You are an amazing woman. Thank you for everything.

-B. Anne.

Two years later

You know, I went back and forth on what I wanted to blog about. I reflected earlier in this day on how much progress in recovery I have made over the past two years when I realized that the anniversary for my depression related hospitalization had come and gone without me realizing it. Last year, it was difficult to not think about. It brought about this overwhelming reminder and pain. But this year, I didn't realize the date had even passed until this morning. It was strange to realize that something that was so intense last year and clearly the year before, was so inconsequential now. I saw real growth in myself in that moment.

I wish I could say that I realized I am completely cured and that this moment showed that my depression was gone for good and everything suddenly became clear and easy for me in the world. I no longer ached in my soul, or felt crippling anxiety about small and future decisions, and my many health issues from stress were suddenly healed. But that is not true. In fact, this is unlikely to ever just happen.

Now I can manage a lot better than I used to but, medical depression is something that never truly goes away. And one of the hardest parts of depression is the fact that it doesn't end. Part of what makes depression so difficult on people, is that it is not something to just get through.

Now do not get me wrong, there are times that are harder than others, and times that are better but ultimately, the depression is a part of your life. It will always come back. Just knowing that it can strike at any moment makes it harder to try. It makes it harder to care. You become hopeless because of the idea that you will ultimately feel hopeless. It is a vicious cycle. You seclude yourself because all you want is to be with people. You are stuck.

This metacognition is truly one of the hardest things I have dealt with in regards to my depression. It gets very frustrating for me to hear that it will get better. Because in my mind, I know it will just get bad again. It may be less bad each time but it will come back again and again and it becomes exhausting. You get beaten down and stop waiting for it to get better because what's the point?

I have come to see that this seems very cynical and yes it is an extreme view. This is not always how depression is but these thoughts are what beat you down the most. I wish I had a clear positive message to end on. I wish I could say, but it does get better and it really convince you but it is not that simple.

Depression is hard. It will always be hard. But so is life. And life, is kind of awesome.



So now here is a video that made me smile today:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/592553.