Spring Semester 2011-12, Part 3: Pills and Pals

In Part 2, I said how I hit a low point where I longed for a True Friend, but actually, I wanted one all semester. Just last semester, I was thinking how you don't need a significant other. You could find ways to be happy without one. I really believed it. I had friends, I enjoyed school, and I felt good. This semester, I was back to wishing as hard as ever for my True Friend. I stopped writing in my diary for the first time in five years because I didn't feel like anything in my life was worth remembering. I ate less but seemed to gain weight, probably because I was stressed and sleep-deprived. I had fairly constant heartburn. I thought a lot more than usual, NOT about committing suicide, but about suicide itself. I'm not sure why. Maybe I realized that some people commit suicide because of the very feelings I had. Knowing that, maybe I had more reason to feel sorry for myself; maybe I had more reason to believe I understood people; or maybe I just had more reason to think about suicide this semester.

I've always understood why people would kill themselves. I believe in Heaven. Who WOULDN'T want to switch their misery for Paradise? However, although I won't say that I'd never kill myself, it's not likely that I will. Some people think it takes guts, but I think the opposite. As I just said, it seems like the easy way out. I want to be brave, like the people I admire, and keep going no matter the pain. And I don't want "them" to win. I don't even know who "they" are, but it just seems like they would win if I died. So I refuse.

I just happened to think a lot about suicide this semester. That seems like a sign of depression, doesn't it? I mean, I know I was depressed, but I've begun to wonder if there's a difference between normal depression and "clinical" depression.

I don't really believe there's a difference, but it's also hard to swallow that all these health professionals could be lying when they say antidepressants will help you. In the END, I honestly don't think the pills help. I think people get depressed because something in their lives is wrong, and by taking these pills, people give themselves an excuse to NOT change their lives. By taking these pills, people give themselves an excuse to not grow as human beings. Perhaps though, by taking these pills, people also give themselves respite from the pain and strength try again later. Perhaps, even, by taking these pills, people fix their brains of the wonky hormones and chemicals that could be impeding their happiness. . . but I have a very hard time believing that.

While I'm tempted to blame my depression on hormones and chemicals, I know in the end why I'm unhappy. It's because I'm alone. It's a real reason, external to my brain, and it should cause me to change my world and myself.

Sadness is terrible in itself but can be very, very good for you. It forces you to grow and change until you've developed a new view of the world, one that will give you hope regardless of the newest addition to your list of sorrows. I'd like to skip the sorrow in life but I don't want to skip the growth.

During this semester, though, I thought more about antidepressants because I realized that while the pain I've gone through has made me stronger and better, it's a continuous cycle of pain and wellness. Pain then wellness, pain then wellness, pain pain pain then wellness. While I will always get through it, the real question is if I want to keep going through it.

Besides, this year, I had to wonder if I'd brought it on myself. My friends may have alienated me, but I kind of alienated them back. I wondered if I couldn't handle being happy, if I just HAD to dig up sadness for myself, if I myself have always been the cause of the cycle. If so, didn't that mean there was SOMETHING wrong with my brain, something that pills might help? But no.

See, for instance, I thought a lot about my friend, J, this year, and changed my mind many times, but so far, I've decided she wasn't a good friend to me and wasn't compassionate to others. I don't want to be around people like that. I'm better off without her. In distancing myself from her, I was aiming to lessen her influence on me till she couldn't hurt me anymore. That's not crazy, and it doesn't mean I need pills to fix my brain. I figure that I'm just as alone now as I was when she was my friend. I just don't hold as many illusions now. 'Course, I change my mind a lot on this issue, and maybe she wasn't that bad. I don't think she meant to hurt me. But that doesn't change the fact that she did. She was inconsiderate at best. . . See?

At least, I do seem better at distancing myself from her. I can be civil to her in a "Howdy, Stranger" kind of way, like I am to most people. I still hurt when she overlooks me though. I switched back and forth from hating her to implementing new plans to "forgive her" or "get over it" while we were both still alive and at school together, so that I could be a little happier. However, while it seems that civil discussion SHOULD help, there's not much you can say to a person like her. She's the kind who will never be able to believe she's done anything wrong.

This semester, I told her I was frustrated she didn't keep in touch. At least, I said, "You never text me anymore," in as frustrated a voice as I could. She lightheartedly replied that she "didn't text anyone anymore." She was "trying to focus on school this year." Yet, I seemed to see her texting all the time, and somehow she managed to get together with all her other friends every night for dinner, and according to one of those friends, none of them were doing their homework. Last semester, it was the same thing. I'd get after J for something and she'd come back at me with endless excuses.

I obviously can't talk to her, so I distanced myself, but if it's helping with the pain, it's working very slowly. Besides, it scares me because I'm not sure if it's weird to care that much about a friend. If she's any indication of normal, then it's very weird. I was scared someone would think I was a lesbian, when I'm pretty sure I'm not and I hate being misunderstood. I think I only care so much because it always hurts when people neglect me, especially those I used to trust. Maybe, as with many pains, I just have to wait until it fades.

Even after that pain fades, I'll still be alone, which I know is why I'm depressed. In order to get better, I need to shake this loneliness. The most obvious and perfect way to do this would be to find my True Friend. I'll get into exactly what that means in my post on Love, which I promise is coming sometime.

Anyway, this semester, I felt a strong impulse to try eHarmony or some other soul mate-finding site, to find someone who will always be with me. However -- and this makes me feel like such a whiner -- I don't have time for a soul mate. I won't have time until after college, at the earliest. At least, I don't FEEL like I have time for anyone I'd find online. Somehow, though, I always feel like I have time for anyone who just pops into my life. I don't know. I'm kind of messed up at this point anyway, and I'd like to prove that I can become wise without my soul mate, and then prove I only need my soul mate because they are my soul mate. I'm getting ahead of this post, though. The point is I didn't try anything like eHarmony this year, and I probably won't unless I get really depressed. It's possible.

But I don't think I should take pills to fix my brain. I should fix my life. You know?

In the last couple of week of school, I was starting to feel better. I spent more time than usual with my classmates. We went to a music-fest, took a box of free pizza from it, and chased people around campus asking if they wanted free pizza. We threw a folf disk around. We had long conversations about anything and everything, because we had time, because school was almost over, and I finally started feeling like writing in my journal again.

Now I've been on vacation for about a week, and I have summer classes in another week. I'm taking summer classes so that I can fit a chemistry minor into these next four years, but I kind of regret giving my summer away. It's only five weeks, but still.

I really want to post that Love post, but I don't know if I'll get to it in the next week. I'll try, but I also want more followers before I post that one. I feel I have something to say to the world, but so far, I haven't done a great job of getting the world's attention. After my summer classes, I'll try to get more followers. In the meantime, I want to encourage comments, so comment and tell me what you think about loneliness, antidepressants, and/or free pizza.

Thanks for listening, I feel better already!

The Quiz

August 29, 2011

Well, I've been in college for over a week now. I have lots of classes. I've been working 8 hours or more (usually more) on schoolwork for each of the last 7 days. I felt like I was doing pretty good. I was working. Last time I was in school, I couldn't even bring myself to do that. I was too scared and discouraged and convinced I couldn't do well. Over the summer, I prayed that God would just let me WORK, and work hard. It seems He answered my prayer, and I'm grateful. But I always harbor this feeling that it will all end in a minute or two, my ability to work. That's scary. And today I think I almost came close. First of all, I'm very tired, and when you're very tired, it's often hard to tell how tired you are. You're no longer sleepy, just tired. Even on days I try to sleep in, it's usually too hot. And it's definitely affecting me. I've made some really weird typos and mistakes in the last few days.

Yesterday, specifically, I tried to take my first quiz of the year. It went far too slowly, and I ended up with a pretty bad score. Well, at least, I thought it was 75 all last night and today, but my teacher just told me it's actually about 90, which isn't so bad. Anyway, I was awfully discouraged and a host of emotions attacked me. It's just the first quiz, not that important, I know, but it was a pretty easy quiz, and if I can't even do well on that...It just seemed that my first quiz would set the tone for the rest of the year. I was hoping it would go well. The other students all did well, as far as I heard, and I couldn't?

I tried talking to people about it and got no real sympathy. I tried talking to this boy I knew from my online classes. I chat online with him now and then, but just a few days after I moved to the dorms, we actually talked about topics of importance. I told him the college kids outside my window were being loud, stupid cliches, and he didn't even have to ask what I meant. He knew, and he wasn't shocked or worried, but sympathetic to the right degree. Then, we talked about college kids, how I could hear them having sex in the next room, summer camps, how the kids at camp didn't like me, which I felt ok telling him because he didn't seem able to be shocked. I didn't have to tell him not to worry, but he sympathized nonetheless.

And instead of any ordinary reply like "That's too bad," he told me this rather personal story of how kids used to call him gay and he didn't know what it meant. This was something brand new, someone telling me something that PROVED they knew pain like I did. I don't think I've ever before met someone who could make me actually feel better about anything. I'm dead serious. I didn't even hesitate to then tell him about the snobs in the online school who ignored me and made me feel like I didn't exist. He still wasn't shocked. He listened and sympathized and didn't seem to think anything ill of me for complaining about our schoolmates. He was the first and only person (I know) that I've told. I could never really tell anyone else.

I went to bed that night, not in love in the sense you might think, but thinking maybe I'd found my True Friend. You don't know exactly what I'm talking about because I haven't published my post on Love yet, but I'll post that someday, and then, you'll know. Anyway, after that, we chatted every day for two or three days, and I told him how I feel stupid even though everyone's always telling me I'm smart, and from what he said, he does also. I did realize he couldn't be my True Friend when he said he wasn't into cats, but I'd pretty much expected him NOT to be my Friend, so it didn't bug me much, and I decided to just go with the hopeful, giddy feelings I'd been having. I often have such feelings (not usually about people, though; about books, movies, etc.), and I always know they'll fade away, and it hardly bothers me anymore, to be honest. I consciously knew that they wouldn't last, but I could plainly see that he could be a good friend, if not my True one. I knew that much was truth, and not giddiness. I was wrong.

When I told him about the quiz, he gave me a smiley face. =) Seriously, and that's it. I mean, I didn't say exactly how distraught I was, but I mentioned it, and that deserves a mention in return. An emoticon does not count as a mention. The same thing happened with my mom. I emailed her about the quiz, this whole long story, and she gave me a two line reply that said NOTHING about it. I seriously wondered if she was mad at me for doing badly. She's financing me, keeps saying how my education is an investment because I'll get a good-paying job afterward, keeps saying how I need to get good grades. After that terse reply, I actually believed that she didn't really like me, that she wouldn't like me when I wasn't doing well in life. I know now she probably wasn't mad at me and didn't stop liking me, but I'd believe that she was and did, and what exactly does that say?

The quiz made me realize that the boy wasn't my True Friend or a good friend, but a person in the class of people I put my mom in months ago. These people are not friends, but friendly. Not good, but okay. Not people to trust, but people to be kind to.

After the quiz, I started to feel again that I can't do this. College. I don't think I ever really believed I could. I felt hopeless and alone and sad, all of which was worse because I was tired. I'm STILL tired. I should be sleeping right now, but I'm writing, and hopefully this will make me feel better. Last night, I kept thinking about. . . everything. Earlier in the day, I'd noticed how you're never really in control of how well you do. I mean, you are. But you aren't. I've often felt completely confident I got a question right, and it turned out wrong, and I've heard stories of people who studied as hard as possible and still failed their tests. And sometimes, like on the SAT, I've felt I would completely fail but then I did very well. So, I was thinking about how God must control all that, not you or me.

On one hand, it's extremely comforting to know you don't have to worry, because you'll succeed when you're supposed to and fail when you're supposed to. On the other hand, it's disturbing that maybe I'm not in charge or responsible for how well I do. See, just that thought could keep me from working hard. You ARE supposed to work hard. God tells us to, but why? If He controls how well you do in life anyway. You're supposed to "Seek first the kingdom of heaven" and not worry, because everything else you need will be given to you. I suppose you seek the kingdom by working at what God has given you to do, and if He's landed you in an engineering college, I suppose that's what He's given you to work at. It still doesn't explain why you should work hard when He controls how well you do. I guess you're just supposed to show you're dedication. I don't really know.

But a lot of thoughts went through my head in the last 48 hours, many of them God-related, many more than usual. This could be a good development. I've wanted to feel closer to God. He was the only one to comfort me last night, with thoughts of why I need not worry. He usually IS the only only one to comfort me.

I was even a bit grateful for the emotional turmoil. See, I was scared when I envisioned the next 9 months of full-time studying, 9 months of sitting at a desk not actually DOING much. I was scared I would become static, stop changing as a human being. I don't want to be static. I want change, not just for what surrounds me, but for me. I want to become better. That happens when I meet trials. I'd forgotten I can still meet trials from studying all day. I can change, just from the emotions of quiz-taking.

I started thinking about it, and I know it's cliche, but I realized grades aren't important. I really am just going to college to learn. And I'm not failing at learning. I've learned quite a bit. I'm only taking classes because I need to know the path to becoming an engineer -- basically what books to read -- because they motivate me to do physical learning, and because they give me a sense of time. On days without classes, all the hours blur together and I don't get much done at the leisurely pace this causes. I may need to graduate to get much of what I want, but a C is good enough to graduate, so even if my quiz grade had been as bad as I thought, it would have been okay.

I need to have more faith that everything will be okay. I need to have faith in God.