I am not my illness...

...but unfortunately, I sometimes can't figure out who I would be without it.

I've mentioned it before, but I suffer from depression. There's really no point in trying to hide it, people can freak out and run if they want, it doesn't change anything. Several family members and close friends deal with it as well, so at least I know I'm not alone in my struggle, though it often feels that way. For those who have never dealt with it, I really can't see how you could ever sympathize, so please, just don't try. I am convinced you have never really understood hopelessness until you have stood in front of the mirror facing a depressed and self-loathing self. And I'm sick of people telling me that happiness is a choice and that if I just slap a smile on my face and decide to be happy, happiness will follow. It's really not that easy sometimes. Yes, on a normal day with regular situations and an unaffected self, Tolstoy's statement: "If you want to be happy, be," is absolutely true. But when chemical imbalances come into play, the playing field completely changes. I know all about slapping a fake smile on my worn out face. How many people actually figured that I often truly believe that I am too difficult to love, and that I'm so broken no one would ever want me? I try to put up a show. I cover it up with a sarcastic and highly-inflated view of myself that I push on everyone I meet, hoping that someday I'll actually believe deep down that I AM wonderful. I try to pretend that there's nothing wrong with me, that I am determined enough to overcome this trial. But let's face it. I've been in denial. And it's time I get help and fix this.

I'm so tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of hurting those I love because of it. This thing that plagues me, it isn't me. It's some crazy genetic flaw that is holding me back from becoming all that I was meant to be. It's a barrier between me and life. It's a constant source of grief and despair. Being super busy with school, particularly reporting, helps. But I'm not reporting right now. When I am alone, I feel restless. Anxious. Unhappy. Being with others is a distraction, but it does not heal. And this sickness prevents me from getting too close.

This tendency towards anxiety combined with my fraught relationship past makes me doubt and question everything. I had really hoped that by now I'd be fine, but the harm that was done to me continues to haunt me. I'm always nervous that someone else will hurt me in the same destructive way: I expect them to think that I'm not worth it and that their rejection will once again confirm that I'm such a terrible person no one would want to be around me (I'm not sure some people realize how much of a detrimental affect their careless words can have on a person). And even when a person is so unbelievably nice to me, an undeserving companion, and tries their absolute hardest to make me happy, I can't figure it out. I stress over so many variables (all on my crazy end of things, because, of course, there's absolutely nothing wrong with the other) that I don't know what to do. I clearly still have issues within myself I have to figure out, and it's just not fair to drag another person through this mess. They deserve so much better, and I wish I had it in me to give it. But this outside thing prevents me from understanding myself and my needs and my wants. I don't know what's right or what I should be doing, and I feel consumed by this anxiety.

So, I'm alone. Exactly where I expected myself to be years ago when I realized the potential consequences of this thing I will always battle. I will probably never be perfectly right. But that doesn't mean that this is who I am.

PS. I am so sorry. I think I might love you, too. And I really wish I knew what to do.

PPS- to everyone else: I feel like I need to explicitly say this because people often wrongly interpret hard stuff like this post. I am NOT a potential physical harm to myself. I also already seek help for my condition. Thank you.