Cope

How do we go about it?

There's a right way out there somewhere. There's gotta be a right way.

There are depressed people out there. In this modern era, you'll (hopefully) recognize them by their occasional comments of, "Don't mind me, just switched meds, and I've gotta wait to see if these are working out for me," and their, "I'm going through a low period right now, thought I'd let you know." Yeah, they're the ones who can differentiate between real emotion, and their brains/meds pulling shit on them (if they're lucky).

I'm not suicidal, I'm not depressed. I don't suffer from depression, and I hate the way people don't differentiate between clinical depression and situational depression. Fuck you and your profits, Pfitzer. There's a difference. And I'll find it.

When I was younger, my mother chased my father's car down the driveway and into the streets of our little suburban utopia wearing nothing but a pair of lace granny panties. She was screaming after him, her body flopping and giggling along with her rage, he was just a car, driving away. All I could think of at the time was getting her back into the house before my high school class mate next door saw her.

That there's some shitty coping mechanisms.

When I was older, but still young, I beat the shit out of my body. I hacked it up, I burnt it up, I fucked it up, I drugged it up, then I put it in a coma.
Before that, I was an asshole. After that, I was depressed. Funny how perspective changes, isn't it?
But guess what? I wasn't depressed. I don't give a damn about your stats about depression, and heredity, and all that crap that you pull out of your asshole when ever you sell anti-depressants for a living. Once again, Fuck you, Pfitzer. You suck.

Situational depression. Live it, love it, learn it. Shit happens, and it makes you sad. Guess what? That's okay by me. Because shit should make you sad, and medicating it into happy rosy fields of glory ain't gonna make that shit go away. Life sucks. Deal. And part of dealing is accepting that sometimes, it's gonna be too much for you to handle alone. And you're gonna break down. And you're gonna cry. And maybe you'll get drunk, do lines, fuck someone you don't know, I dunno. I'm not you. I'm not gonna try to tell you how to lose it.

But it will happen, and that doesn't make you depressed, it makes you human.

There are people who suffer from depression. They're the ones who, (I dunno, I'm an art major), their seratonin isn't going where it should be? Fucked if I know. They're the ones who have a medical condition which makes it impossible to feel happy.

What does that have to do with situational depression? Well I'll tell you: Nothing! That's right, Sweet Fuck All. Welcome to the land of misery. Enjoy.
Sometimes, life sucks, and you can't medicate that shit away. It's not about you're lack of seratonin (or whatev), it's about the fact that life really does suck. You can medicate all you want, but it's not gonna fix it. Because sometimes the problem isn't your head, it's your life, and you're gonna have to change it.

Coping

Yeah, I got nothing.

Anyone? Learned how to cope? Wanna lend me a hand?

I miss my stint with depression. Sure, it was a necessary right of passage for a girl growing up with a mother like mine, but it was damn comfy. It's complete control, the ability to wrap the world around you, to smother your self in the perceived hatred of your peers, to know that you run the show, this will only last as long as you let it last. Except to truly commit, you lose the ability to control.

Coping

Now I'm all growed up, and I've realized that the problem with suicide is it would make me dead, and that makes it not such a fine coping mechanism after all. Thing is, even when I was younger, I never hated me, I just hated what I thought other people thought of me. Then I learned that I really don't give a damn about those other people.
I'm a friendly kinda gal. I meet people whether I like it or not. I have far to many people to worry about, I do not have time to throw in a bunch of fucknuts that I don't even know into the mix. Seriously, I'm stretched thin right now. So if I don't know you, I don't care, which would make your not liking me your problem, and not mine.

But where do I go with coping from here?

Today I may have failed an exam. Which would mean that today, I got myself cut off of student loans, and kicked out of school.

Someone want to lend me a hand on how to cope with that shit?

Or any shit?

People talk about how their childhoods were stolen from them. But mine wasn't stolen from me, what I lost was my ability to deal with emotion.
I have no idea what I'm allowed to feel. What's normal? Where am I overly dramatasizing? Where am I quelling my thoughts to the point that I come across as a robot?

How the fuck can I figure out how to deal with emotions if I can't even figure out what constitutes a real emotion?

So yeah, once again, I have no closer. So do tell, am I buying into the hypochondria I was raised with in worrying I might be out of an education, or am I playing in to my emotional oasis by not reacting more than I am to the potential loss of life as I know it, or am I reacting like a normal person would?
And is the normal reaction to just deal and move on, or to pause, then move on, or to mourn?




Fuck it. My fish just died. My life can hold for one minutes worth of funerary flushing. I'll figure out how stressed I ought to be later.





And yeah, I think that fish deserved a minute of silence.