I have yet to share the creation of this blog, and I think it’s because I’ve put some imaginary pressure on myself by creating it. “Since folks enjoyed my Facebook posts, everything I post anywhere has to be good” says I. As long as nobody knows about it, it’s my soundless scream into the abyss that is the Internet. I tried blogging on Tumblr once, but do you have any idea how much porn is on there?! So alas, I abandoned it after only a few posts about how pitiful my life was at the time. You see, I’ve been having it out with depression for a few years, now, and for a while it was winning more rounds than I was. My nights were plagued with anxiety attacks and I could barely will myself out of bed in the morning. It got really bad when I started graduate school. I was among people so much smarter than me that I actually began to wonder if I was developmentally delayed. Despite what I’ve always been told, I’m afraid I didn’t feel very intelligent at all. Add to that the fact that I was in the final stages of an apparently doomed relationship and the fact that I was incredibly intimidated by the overwhelming intelligence of everyone around me–so much so that I could scarcely nurture any friendships–and it was a very dark time for me, indeed. In fact, it was the tireless friendship of two wonderful people several months later that snapped me out of that funk.
Do you ever feel like your very existence is an annoyance to those around you? Like even though you try your hardest, people will believe you’re a fraud? How about the feeling that wherever you go, people talk and snicker behind your back? Like you only get invited to things because people feel obligated, or when you don’t get invited, that it’s because people don’t enjoy your company? It’s a bitch, and it makes life terribly lonely.