Usually, I can go at least a month– maybe up to three months– without suffering a bout of depression. However, when Vlad leaves, and I can’t talk to him, see him… I begin to become volatile. I will have a couple days when I’m okay, and then I will become overwhelmed with anger for the next two or three. And then the immense sadness, and regret will wash over me, and I’ll drown in it for at least three days.
Today I felt both the anger and the sadness. I felt like screaming, like destroying things. I also wanted to hurt myself. Memories swirled around in my head, thundering my own disapproval of myself over and over, whirling and striking me where it most hurt. And I realized I may have been lying to myself.
Let me explain what was in my head– and maybe it will help me. When I was in high school (particularly freshman and sophomore years) I had not yet know that I was extremely awkward. I didn’t know how to interact with people, and, when forced to, I would humiliate myself with things that didn’t make sense or just looked or sounded outright stupid.
So what? Well, my biggest hope in high school was to be in the chorus and drama classes– because at that time, I had wanted to go into that field. SPOILER: I gave up.
When I finally got into those classes, I had only a couple friends in there. Everyone was like a family– it was something I desperately wanted to be a part of. I kept to myself entirely, out of fear that they would shun me– since, aside from the few friends I did have, everyone seemed to dislike me. Several people, including the teacher, openly encouraged me to join in, and interact with them… and so I did.
And was immediately made the class pariah. Even my friends that were in that class would COMPLETELY ignore me as soon as we entered the class. I didn’t understand. I realized that the class was not a family, but a clique. One that I was definitely not welcome in.
It was during the time I had those classes that my depression cycled crazily. I would cry every day– usually when I would get home– and I had even less self-esteem than before. I wanted to die, because I felt that the one group I thought would appreciate me– they hated me. I was in a musical production of “Little Shop of Horrors” that pains me to remember. If I watch or even think about it, it makes me want to hurt myself. I remember all the pain, all the humiliation. I remember just how much I hated myself.
And even though that time has passed, every time I think about it, I find that I hate myself just as much, if not more.
So what prompted this sudden self-loathing? I seemed to be doing so well! I was even saying things like “I’m completely satisfied with myself right now.”
Well, one of the girls that was in those classes works with us. Usually she works at the other store, and she mostly works mornings– but tonight she came to our store and took charge. Why does this matter?
She was one of the ones who encouraged me to interact. She was also one that gave me the most disgusted looks. Not to mention she has always been a favorite to teachers, and everyone else at work knows she is the bosses’ favorite. She can bend the rules, and they don’t say a word.
And every damn time I look at her, I feel that loathing crawl up my throat, stabbing, stabbing, stabbing.
She talks to me like I’m a child– at least that’s how it seems. She treats me like an idiot. And when I stopped to eat, she said some things that felt like she was being passive aggressive. As if I didn’t deserve to eat, that I wasn’t working hard enough.
And who knows. Maybe that much was all in my head. I still despise her for the memories she brings up in me, even if the rest doesn’t really exist. I can’t stand to even look at her.
But that hatred doesn’t touch her nearly as much as me. I am reminded so much that I hate myself that, given something to do it with, I would hurt myself right then. Usually, I don’t get that bad– but being around her makes me so angry, so wild with hatred…
Have I been lying to myself? Am I really satisfied with who I am? Of course not. I never will be, as long as I have memory.
But I’ve decided. I will move to Lexington. I will move there– and I won’t come back until I am done with college and have a good job. Because I don’t ever want her to have the ability to look at me like that again. In disgust. Like she’s so much damn better than me.
I’m sorry for having cursed. Usually I keep a tighter lid on than that… but I just can’t tonight. I’m tired, and I feel like I have a hole in me. I feel like I’m being crushed by that hatred and that misery. And I left the rest of my sandwich at work– so I can’t eat anything else tonight.
I have way too much to get done in too little amount of time. So tomorrow, when I get home from work, I will not be getting on here. I will be busy cleaning. And, I pray to God I don’t have to see her again any time soon. At least until Vlad gets back. When he has time for me, I don’t hurt as much.