Just Another Manic Monday

Depression is something I have known intimately in myself since I was a young teen. The depression I now feel is something unknown to me. It is no longer me that is the problem, but everything. Yes, I am the problem, but it’s not my state of liking myself. I love myself. I know myself and I like me. But I do not know how to live anymore. Forcing myself out of bed is an accomplishment every morning. Being social with friends that insist I hang out is an accomplishment. It is something I have to work on; I have to try. When I have very few friends, and I need new ones, trying is not something I can afford. I don’t have it in me to care for myself, let alone to try to be a friend! And my best friend, the fact that we are ex’s has finally come to the front. How do we talk about stuff like this, when we are no longer together? We all know that the fact that we are not together is probably half of my battle into unfamiliar territory. I have never given so much of myself; I have never had so much to lose.

I feel incredibly isolated. I know you are saying it’s because I don’t go out; I don’t try. The thing is... I can’t. For some reason, leaving the house terrifies me. Knowing that I have to live up to some sort of norm where one does not cry in public terrifies me. I know that I cannot guarantee that I will not cry. Crying in public only gets me looks of concern; it doesn’t get me anything useful. I cried in public today. And then I cried the whole way home. Somehow, in the safety of my basement, the tears have stopped.

All my life, I have had one dream that remained constant. I want a family. A real family - a husband, children, our own house full of memories. Suddenly, I have a new dream that pretty much takes away the one dream that was such a comfort to dream. With two conflicting dreams, both of which mean the world to me, I don’t know what to fight for, what to look into doing. In my heart I know that I do not want a travelling family. Although cultured children are good, they also lose too much of their childhood making new friends. I doubt that life overseas would be settled.

I called for a counsellor today. I cannot see someone until March 25th, 2010. I am that desperate for help, for a friend that I am willingly going to a counsellor for the first time in my life. I just.... can’t live like this anymore. It’s been almost 3 weeks since I came home, and everyday seems worse than the last. I was warned that coming home would be harder than going over there. I assumed it would be only materialistic. But, I am okay with having everything I have. I expected to merge right back into society, its busy lifestyle, its craziness. Instead, I cannot face it. I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere. I have never belonged where I have been, but now I can’t think of anywhere in this world to try. I cannot go back to Ghana and expect to be happy. I am not happy as an individual. It does not matter where I am if I am not happy as me

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to turn. And I have never been so depressed before. I have never needed so much when I can have nothing.