Why I’m such a flake

I’d like to start the new year by creating an open dialogue about my mental health issues. In the coming weeks, I’m planning on writing posts explaining the issues that cause me to be so spacey, depressed, and often unreliable. The posts may be disjointed and may not make complete sense at times, but I’m going to try my best. It’s a hard topic to write about. Perhaps someone in my family will read them and gain a better understanding that I’m not a mooch and a jerk – although I can understand how I may appear so to the unkeen observer. Perhaps someone with the same issues will read them and see that they’re not alone in their struggle. Perhaps no one will read them and I’ll simply have a medium to get this all off my chest. Win-win, right?

I don’t want to be defined by my problems. I don’t want to be the type of person who shakes someone’s hand and says, “Hey, my name’s Beth. I’m very depressed – even though you’d never be able to tell when spending small amounts of time with me – and I can barely function as a human being.” I want to be more than my problems.

I try so hard. And “I’m trying” begins to sound like an excuse to others’ ears. I swear, though, that I am. Every day is a struggle.

I live day to day and very rarely have the opportunity to look at what’s happening around me. Every so often I realize that it’s been months since I last spoke to certain people, but to me it feels like only days because time has passed so quickly as I try to simply stay afloat in life. I look around and see nothing that proves that I give a crap about those around me or even myself. I know it looks like I’m doing the bare minimum that a human can do but in reality I’m spending every hour making sure that I make it to the next. I never know how I’ll be the next day, which causes me to be unable to commit to anything or plan in advance. I could be perfectly fine, or I could be completely vacant and lost in the recesses of my mind. I may simply be too depressed to eat, let alone get dressed and leave the house.

I feel like it shouldn’t be this hard for a human to be alive. But sometimes it just is. And sometimes feels like a lot of the time to me.

So please, if you know me or someone like me with depression, anxiety, or any other body chemistry altering disorder, please remember that although they may seem like a total selfish flake they’re actually trying their very best.

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One thought on “Why I’m such a flake

  1. Pingback: You’re Never Weird on the Internet (Almost) | The Nerd Wife's Life

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