I haven't posted in a long time and I had all this information that I wanted to talk about. All these moments in which I enjoyed Bosnia, which I may do at some point soon. I honestly was so excited but when I got home the desire ran from me.
Instead in this post I just want to write. First I want to talk about depression, for the reason because I try to relocate thoughts of past memory of times I was supposedly depressed.
What is depression? To be quite brutally honest I have no idea, people write about it, it'd in books, medical publications and internet forums. Though the thing is it doesn't make sense. At all.
Here is why, I've always, ALWAYS considered myself so incredibly lucky, the stars were in my favor. The world was a vast continuous ocean of knowledge and discovery that I have this desirable urge to sweep through with a comb. I want to be apart of this thing that we call the world. I knew I had the tools, the magic at my finger tips to achieve all this. That I had and have never a thing to complain about. I don't DESERVE to complain. Sometimes this is pointed out as having terrible self esteem, and I've been told that I'm allowed to complain. But I feel guilt and shame for thinking about complaining and then actually complaining. Why would anybody want to hear me?
Why am I writing this, not so people can hear me but to actually put thoughts in my head onto something more solid.
And yet, I feel like this utter failure for not being able to take the reins of my life and use all these wonderful gifts to accomplish the greatness that I want to accomplish. I question myself every other day and I compare myself to other people. One minute I love me and then the next I want to improve me. Then I think what do people see in me, because all the people in my life are just utterly amazing and here I am just Sara. And I wish to the gods and heavens that people see that they are amazing. Maybe some say the same for me but in my head it doesn't make sense.
Is this depression? No, some may say it is but I don't believe it for one second it is.
When I was 12 to the age of 13, I was depressed. I don't even remember what I did in those times. Except that I walked everywhere by that age and I remember just thinking of killing myself, but the only thing stopping me was the fact that I'd hurt others in my life. I didn't want to talk to anybody, I didn't notice things anymore. I dressed in black because I thought I would be cooler, but then it didn't even matter anymore. I just wanted something to change but nothing in my mind would change. I would continue walking feeling dead. I cried a lot too, I still cry a lot to this day but I cried so much in that period that it was exhausting. I couldn't wait to sleep and I dreaded getting up in the morning.
Is this depression? I said it was but when I talk to myself I feel as though I was this drama constricted child that didn't know what to do with herself.
But is depression only depression when it's passed a certain time frame? Could my depression be 7days long? Because I feel like when I was 16 I was depressed too. It was heartbreak, betrayal, sadness, exhaustion, and unable to comprehend or care anymore. I couldn't eat for a week because I literally felt like puking every time I smelled food. I cried so much. My heart was being ripped out of my chest, and it felt like someone was grasping my heart and choking the air out of it.
Was that depression? Or the numb feeling that came after that, which lasted for a few months.
I still think about death and I accept the fact I could die tomorrow or in the next 2 minutes. Is that bad? Envisioning the possibilities of death and then wondering how much people would care? Because I can imagine certain people in my lives being heart broken but I of course would want them to move on and be happy. But I wonder if I really am that someone they would miss or just the idea of me is missable.
I'm not depressed, I just think about dark things. I use to be unaffected by what anybody said about me but now I slowly have started to take things personally. Just that I feel less wanting to impress people and instead just want to explore myself.
I haven't had the opportunity to actually put myself in the position that I have envisioned myself being in. It's become this harsh reality. A reality of what, I'm unsure.
I still will keep the optimism in my spirit and continue to envision myself in a new adventure that will make me learn things that I wouldn't of otherwise.
Ciao
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