Zee Blog

Late night death rattle.

Life has been a bit strange lately. I'm not sure if that has leaked into my blog too much, but now it's going to pour into it. Life since my last counselling appointment has been interesting.

When we had our initial talk, she evaluated me. She feels that my depression is currently in the danger area of the spectrum. I began to talk to her about how I was feeling overwhelmed with all that my life was asking of me.

Normally I'm really dedicated to my schoolwork. I'm an 'A'/'B' student in college and I've always been motivated to keep it that way. Yet, here comes this semester. Whereas I'm the one yelling at my friends to keep their asses in class, I'm the one now ditching them left and right.

I started the semester out at 17 credits. I was pumped and ready before the semester started. It was going to be a cinch. Then the semester started, and so did my depression.

I hit a wave of depression like nothing I had ever experienced before. I wasn't suicidal, but I was a phantasmal blob. I sat on the couch, with the lights out and the television flickering. I didn't read, write, nothing. I simply sat around and played a video game to help me fantasize what it must be like to live a life where things are actually happening: where I'm making a difference.

As of my appointment I was taking 6 credit hours. I dropped the others. I couldn't help it. I literally just had no will to do it. It was like someone who is 600 pounds laying on my back and telling me to get up and run.

She listened to what I had to say about everything else in my life. I told her about how my family expects me to do everything. I'm required to make sure the house is cleaned, the cars are taken care of, animals are fed, walked, and groomed. I do everything for them but the jobs they are employed to. One of my friends joked and told me I had the life of a "House Wife".

On top of this I don't have a steady income. The company I practically helped build with my mom is no longer lucrative. After 9/11 and her embarassing display of alcoholism we are living in a metaphorical Purgatory. We get a job every so often, but it's rarely enough to make my car payment every month. Yet, she still requires me to be in the company.

My father on the other hand piles more work on me than I can handle. He's backed me into a corner to not only design a website, but custom draw the entire thing for a friend of his. On top of this he wants a fully illustrated and colored comic for his branch of his military that talks about what you need not to do if you wish to be a member of the Air Force. I have to draw two versions: One for the Air National Guard, and another for the Air Force in Tucson.

On top of that I'm trying to find a way of moving out. Shauna and I already have an apartment picked out and we're planning to move into it by the first of January. So the stress of wondering if I'm financially capable is killing me.

I'm still living with all of this grief and depression to. I can't quite shake losing my 'ex', still trying to come to terms with my fling with Mystery Girl X, and coming to terms with my parents, how they treated me, along with my own past substance use.

My counselor looked at me and said: "You are carrying way too much. What if I gave you a doctor's note which would allow you to withdraw from your classes with no penalty?"

I wanted to cry the moment those words left her lips. I know many people around me are sighing, shaking their heads, and silently screaming in their heads, but to hear someone else say it just lifted such a weight from my chest.

I need to get out on my own. Sink or swim, I have to get out. I have to disconnect myself before I can really be myself. I know that if I continue to stay in this house for the sake of getting out of school I'm going to eventually lie down and never get back up.

A part of me wants to shake its finger at me, tell me its wrong, but too much of me thinks otherwise. To those that call me a coward, lazy, or incapable you get my middle finger. Sorry, but I need this for me.

But it is 3:33 in the AM and I have a counselor appointment at 8:30. I'm gonna go to bed.

Viva la Resistance.