Depression Understood Forums

I don't really need advice, but I don't have anyone I can comfortably talk to about this kind of thing so I just wanted to vent a bit, but if anyone has similar experiences please share.

This is gonna sound really self centered, but my life right now is kind of perfect, and because its so perfect I hate that I feel the way I do. The constant need to cry, the lethargy, the visceral pain of waking up and going to class everyday, its too much sometimes. I always thought that when I got to college things would be different. They were suppose to get better; and they did - for a bit. But there are moments - like right now - when I can't even begin to imagine the next few years of my life because I just can't bring myself to care. I want to go to medical school. I have motivations and dreams and aspirations, and I know I want to live a fulfilling life, but there are these moments where I feel so crippled by my depression and anxiety and its not that I don't think I can, I just don't want to do anything.

(Trigger Warning ahead -self harm-)

When I was in high school I used to cut, and I made excuses for myself. I just need an outlet and it wasn't like I was going to seriously hurt myself, I just needed a distraction. It was so easy too because no one cared enough to ask or push. I haven't cut in over two years now, and I always thought that the longer I went without it the less I would want to. I couldn't be more wrong. Even on my best days anytime I pick up a razor the idea flits across my mind sometimes so quick I barely notice, but in its wake it leaves guilt; and that guilt sends me down a spiral if I don't snip it in the bud quickly enough (which is ironic considering I'm trying not to cut)<-- feel free to ignore my attempt at dark humor - its how I cope.

I hate myself for feeling like this. I have no reason to, and If I could just be happy I could do so much more; I could be so much more. My parents still don't know that I ever cut and I never even told my therapist. I don't want anyone to know. I want it to be my thing. I want to overcome it and never do it again, but I also know I'll never forget the comfort of it. The pain, the blood, I don't want to romanticize it in any way, but there's a level of clarity when I get hurt, whether by my hand or not, and in that moment nothing else matters but 'fixing' the issue, getting through the pain, healing. Maybe its because I couldn't fix my brain so I took back control and proved to myself that I could 'heal'/'fix' something.

Note: don't come at me for using the word 'fix' I know its got a bad rap and not a lot of people like that word, but I am well aware that my brain is broken. I have a chemical imbalance in my brain, and I should be medicated - I was when I was younger and it worked wonders for me - but that's not the life I want. I crave control and It terrifies me to lose it, the idea of being dependent on anything or anyone scares me - which is probably why I'm 20 years old and have never been nor have any interest in being in a romantic relationship.

In high school my best friend told me that I can't be depressed because my life wasn't 'bad enough'. I know she didn't mean it and we're still friends now and I love her (she's grown a lot), but it always stuck with me because I wish that was how depression worked, because if that were the case I'd be really happy right now. I wish I had something to blame, or someway to explain why I feel the way I do; but I don't, I can't, and that only makes me more upset. I'm stuck.

This is really long now, but I've never written about my depression before so I suppose this is well overdue.

Me again.

Finals week is sucking the life out of me and we've barely even started, but I'm hoping venting again will keep me occupied and distracted for a few minutes.

Today's dilemma: What do you do when you hate being around people, but don't trust yourself to be alone?

I have friends and family and for the most part I love them; but sometimes (most of the time) I crave self isolation. I just want to live out the rest of my days with zero human interaction. Now I believe in holistic medicine - healing through nutrition and behaviors - so I understand the human necessity for companionship. People want to relate. They want to belong. But I don't really feel like I do, and I know I'm not the only anxious person or depressed girl in the world, but in my head it feels like no one truly understands each other. We can grasp an extent of an emotion from some facsimile of an experience of our own, but do we ever really understand how someone else feels? Even if two people go through the same circumstance their reactions may be vastly different, because no humans are exactly alike.

Fairly often I feel like I'm just going through the motions. Acting and reacting the way people want me to, the way they expect a 'normal' person to respond. I am naturally adept at assessing a tone and reading body language in a general way that I can respond accordingly without really listening to what is being said. Such a 'skill' means I can disconnect from other people without them realizing it, and lately I've been doing more that usual. I am constantly reserving myself to my own mind, almost stowing myself away and just languidly slipping through the days.

(TW - Suicidal thoughts and self harm)

I enjoy my solitude for the most part. I am by far the most introverted of all of my friends. I am extremely paranoid and hyper conscious of everyone and everything. I'm afraid of the dark, so I rarely go outside when the sun goes down which means that during the winter season I'm inside from about 6pm until the following morning. I don't like parties and I second guess everything I've said after a one-on-one meeting. When I'm alone I never have to worry about saying the wrong thing or being aware of my surroundings, but being alone especially in silence means the voices in my head are audible. They get so loud at night that I have trouble falling asleep. I just sit here staring at the wall in complete silence proving to myself again and again that they don't control me. I control them, but they are me. There's a self destructive part of my mind that whispers thoughts to me, makes me feel like shit then reminds me that I don't have to live like this; I don't have to live at all. And that's terrifying.

I've contemplated life a lot, and death as a facet of it as well. I am religious. A Christian to be exact, and I never understood why people feared death. As a Christian we are taught that there is life beyond death and that one day we will live in Heaven with God, a perfect place as perfect creations. Even outside of religion from an atheist's perspective, life would just cease upon death. Nothing matters when I'm gone, and everything that matters in life I am uninterested by. I hate having to force myself to 'want' to live. I'm not saying I want to die I simple don't care either way. What I will say is that life is too stressful sometimes and death - even just the idea of it - is almost a comfort to me. A reminder that this is not forever. One day I will be able to let go and truly rest. I don't think I'll ever kill myself for various reasons. Knowing I have that power - that control - is enough for me and cutting proved to me that I had that control.

I'd also like to point out that this isn't just me being unhappy where I'm at or needing a less stressful career or lifestyle. This is bigger than that. I honestly believe that I will/would feel like this regardless of where I am or how I am living.

This is a very heavy topic for a lot of people and I feel inconsiderate feeling the way I do about death so I don't share my views of it with anyone. I don't want to offend anyone or speak lightly of the pain that comes with losing a loved one. I just find the concept perplexing and I view it from a very cynical and analytical perspective which is probably not how I'm suppose to see it.

I just want to say you’re not alone, even if it feels that way sometimes. A lot of people, including myself, have gone through moments where everything seems “perfect,” but inside it’s just… not. It’s okay to feel like that, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful or broken.

The fact that you’ve gone two years without cutting is something you should be proud of, even if the urges are still there. That’s a big step, and it shows how much strength you have, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.