Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Understood.

"You can do this."

I looked into his eyes after I told him I felt hopeless.
You know what people say about eyes doing the talking?

I saw how he was hurting for me. I saw that he understood what I was feeling, because he had felt the exact same way before. I saw the sad, but sweet sympathy.

I've never met anyone before that can simply look into my eyes and know. Understand. And respond with empathy. I felt understood, and that maybe there's hope for me.

Those 4 hour Starbucks visits: the ones that you empty yourselves. Your thoughts, your being, your worries, your everything. Those are the best.

Here's to a new beginning. I can do this. I can get better.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Sadness is home.

I don't feel like I have a reason for this intense sadness.

Sure, I'm having some health issues. I'm tired a lot, and unable to think and concentrate. Which then, causes my grades to suffer. Which then causes me to not want to even try to make good grades. Which in turns, leads to me wanting to sleep a lot. Which then makes me feel like crap.

I mean, nothing major has happened though. No one has died in my family, no traumatic events have happened. Besides the fact that 2 out of 3 of my grandparents alive were just diagnosed with cancer. 


There's just too many little things on my plate. Many more that I didn't mention.

And yet, I feel like I have no excuse for this depression I feel.

Am I really depressed? Or maybe I'm just making all of this up for attention.

I don't want to get out of bed. I want to just stay in bed forever, maybe I'll feel better if I sleep away my pain. I don't care about school assignments, due dates, or grades. I just want to get out of here. I don't care about anything.

Why am I feeling so numb? So useless? 

But the strange thing is... sometimes I don't want help. I enjoy this sadness. It's familiar. My sadness is home.