I'm fine, until next time.

One thing I have noticed about depression and anxiety is that it is not constant in a all the time sense. It is constant in the, "hey, you'll be fine for about 3 weeks then I'm coming in like Ray J and you are a Khardashian."

I struggled with the ability to bounce back, now I have it pretty much down to an art. A very sad art. Like a poorly drawn 1st grade picture that hangs on your refrigerator.

I try to figure out the triggers, the frustration and the general reason why I feel depressed at any given time. Playing video games used to pacify, but something in my brain has now associated that with anxiety. I'm kinda just a blob. A mindless person who just sits there like Homer Simpson.

Grasping at anything he can get to be motivated. Unfortunately it is hard to find, if you are depressed. Sometimes all you need is to someone to give you a tough talk. Everyone can be sympathetic and optimistic, but pessimism and cynicism almost always brings me out of it.

Unfortunately the world is not perfect. It will never be as long as the Big Bang Theory is on TV. But, the imperfections in the world, in people, in your own mind are what makes you human. That is what gives you knowledge. That is experience. We all gain from experience. Positive or negative, experiences guide you.

I'm not bold enough to make a move. I'm rather plain. That's me. I try to survive everyday, I try to struggle with the fact that I will never live depression free. Sometimes, that is okay. Those moments when I am not I feel unbeatable.

That is what is truly scary for the rest of the world and mental illness. There is no true cure for it. Pharmaceuticals can take that numbness away. But, at the end of the day you are still depressed just running on a pill.

Social media has one thing in common. People feel anxiety, people are uneasy. It does not have: people willing to talk about anxiety and what causes it. Because it is a "weakness".

I'm vested in social media because I can get lost in it. It is a trigger at the same time, because when other people feel like shit, I want to take on what causes their feeling so they do not have to anymore.

So, I'm out of the depression after about 4 days.
It should be back in about a month.
I'm fine, until next time.

Regards,
Devon

Trapped.

For once in my life. I am at rock bottom.
I don't feel like hurting myself.
Don't feel like myself.
Don't feel like looking at myself.
Don't know myself.
I don't know how to act.
I don't know who to talk to
How, or what about.
Nothing is really worth talking about.
I'm depressed. This is clear.
I let it eat me alive like it never has before.
I am more aware of how bad it effects me.
I don't function. I don't do anything.
Even seeking validation I don't give a shit.
Everyone has their lives.
Everyone kinda keeps up.
My life is still moving.
I am not.
I am not motivated.
I am not happy
I am not content.
I am not patient.
I am not inspired.
I don't care anymore.
I am not me.
I am not a McRee, a Hunt, a anything.
I'm without identity and slowly losing personality.
There has to be something said to post-secondary schools
about how everyday life there effects the students.
There has to be a wake up call.
I am drowning in the sea of depression.
I have a midterm tuesday. Who knows if I will even look at it.
I do not want school if it makes me want to contemplate suicide again
I live a dream that I never wanted. I live this dream because people want me to
I am smart, I do not need a university or the ability to regurgitate bullshit to prove that I am
The anxiety creeps.
The depression creeps.
I am not the only once, cynically I take some comfort in this.
Macewan, UofA, NAIT, Stanford, Yale, Brown, Notre Dame, Florida, LSU (ETC)
Have no problem taking your money, and having apathy to how your life is affected
financially, emotionally, physically.
Just give them their bread and butter.
Fuck the students, fuck the people like me who are tormented with fears of unknown and unnatural being. Fear of convention.
 You read stories of students committing suicide every week or at least attempting. This isn't enough for someone to wonder anything?
Wonder how we can fix it.
Because, having a shitty Councillor read you a book definition of chronic anxiety but not help you is not doing anything. Having a psychiatrist who does not know a damn thing about you does not help.
Outreach? For whom? I'd say the outreach is them to you, to make themselves feel better that they do not live everyday with anxiety. With the feelings of depression and regret.

Regards,
Fuck you.