A while
I was just thinking about this idea I had to start another journal to give myself an outlet to talk about my tv shows and books. I realized then that I have so many different outlets over what I have to say, and each is a form of censorship on myself. My facebook tells the random thoughts I have, things that are not harmful, just facts about my day to day life. I know my family reads that so I keep it light.
For some reason one of my greatest fears is my family finding this livejournal. I could make it friends only, but I never quite understood having a livejournal that was friends only. This journal as of recently tells the inane musings of mine on Twilight and Glee coupled with the dark thoughts that are result of the my dads death. For the most part my parents know I struggle, but it is not something we talk about day to day. My family has gone through more trials than I feel it's fair for one family to endure. But, that is another story.
But then there is this journal, that so few people even still read anymore. Yet, it still provides a catharthis in both the journals and communities I watch, and my rare posts. Not to mention this journal chronicles two years of high school and my entire college experience. Every time I think of giving it up because of how infrequently I post, I can't stand the thought because of all the truths that I have told in this journal that I wouldn't even speak out loud.
Part of the reason I haven't posted lately is because I have a new way of looking at each day and trying to categorize it. I only have told my parents and a friend or two this, but I'm not okay. I saw my counselor a couple months ago, the last time I could afford to see her because my insurance ran out. Which ever way you slice it I am depressed. I have a lot of the classic symptoms; sleep problems, lack of appetite, lack of interest in normal activities, and low energy.
What is a little more worrisome is something that has happened to me a couple times since my dad died. I have these weird periods of uplifting mood. I have so much energy, I thrive on a couple hours of sleep, I do crazy things, and I'm more productive. A couple of these moments have been documented in this journal, including the best example, my asking of Levi out in November, something I would NEVER normally do, but somehow I had felt like I had been compelled to do it. Without telling my counselor any of my own suspicions, after describing how I felt she agrees that it might be early signs of bipolar. If you are susceptible to it, sometimes a traumatic event can trigger it. I don't know anything for sure and I can't know anything without seeing a psychiatrist. She conferred with a colleague who also agrees it could be a possibility.
However, I am doing little things in my life right now to help. I am taking supplements which have helped level my moods some. I try to go for walks more, although I haven't done it recently because of how warm it is. I am trying eat healthier, but that is easier said than done. I am either eating too much or not enough. But, I guess what I'm saying is that now I look at my day if it is a normal day, depressed day, or a manic day. There are moments that panic seizes my body for no reason. There are other times when rushes of emotions run through and I can do nothing but scream in frustration. Then there are days upon days where nothing is wrong and I am like I have always been.
My parents know, but I could tell it broke my moms heart when I told her. I never want to worry her again. I told her once in high school that I contemplated suicide, and you should have seen her face. I never want to put my mom through that again, but in the same breath she would never want me to hide this from her. So, I tell her half truths. The supplements are helping...which they are. I just don't tell her about each and every bad day. I think that is why I come on here and spout out really irrational or emotional entries. I have to get it out somehow and that is why I am writing this obscenely long entry.
I wish so much that I didn't have censor myself. I even censor myself in this journal because you don't hear about all the happy moments in my life, those are reserved for facebook or telling people in person. Maybe someday I will have the courage to merge all these different forms of expressing myself, but for now they are going to stay segregated. It's the only thing I can do.
For some reason one of my greatest fears is my family finding this livejournal. I could make it friends only, but I never quite understood having a livejournal that was friends only. This journal as of recently tells the inane musings of mine on Twilight and Glee coupled with the dark thoughts that are result of the my dads death. For the most part my parents know I struggle, but it is not something we talk about day to day. My family has gone through more trials than I feel it's fair for one family to endure. But, that is another story.
But then there is this journal, that so few people even still read anymore. Yet, it still provides a catharthis in both the journals and communities I watch, and my rare posts. Not to mention this journal chronicles two years of high school and my entire college experience. Every time I think of giving it up because of how infrequently I post, I can't stand the thought because of all the truths that I have told in this journal that I wouldn't even speak out loud.
Part of the reason I haven't posted lately is because I have a new way of looking at each day and trying to categorize it. I only have told my parents and a friend or two this, but I'm not okay. I saw my counselor a couple months ago, the last time I could afford to see her because my insurance ran out. Which ever way you slice it I am depressed. I have a lot of the classic symptoms; sleep problems, lack of appetite, lack of interest in normal activities, and low energy.
What is a little more worrisome is something that has happened to me a couple times since my dad died. I have these weird periods of uplifting mood. I have so much energy, I thrive on a couple hours of sleep, I do crazy things, and I'm more productive. A couple of these moments have been documented in this journal, including the best example, my asking of Levi out in November, something I would NEVER normally do, but somehow I had felt like I had been compelled to do it. Without telling my counselor any of my own suspicions, after describing how I felt she agrees that it might be early signs of bipolar. If you are susceptible to it, sometimes a traumatic event can trigger it. I don't know anything for sure and I can't know anything without seeing a psychiatrist. She conferred with a colleague who also agrees it could be a possibility.
However, I am doing little things in my life right now to help. I am taking supplements which have helped level my moods some. I try to go for walks more, although I haven't done it recently because of how warm it is. I am trying eat healthier, but that is easier said than done. I am either eating too much or not enough. But, I guess what I'm saying is that now I look at my day if it is a normal day, depressed day, or a manic day. There are moments that panic seizes my body for no reason. There are other times when rushes of emotions run through and I can do nothing but scream in frustration. Then there are days upon days where nothing is wrong and I am like I have always been.
My parents know, but I could tell it broke my moms heart when I told her. I never want to worry her again. I told her once in high school that I contemplated suicide, and you should have seen her face. I never want to put my mom through that again, but in the same breath she would never want me to hide this from her. So, I tell her half truths. The supplements are helping...which they are. I just don't tell her about each and every bad day. I think that is why I come on here and spout out really irrational or emotional entries. I have to get it out somehow and that is why I am writing this obscenely long entry.
I wish so much that I didn't have censor myself. I even censor myself in this journal because you don't hear about all the happy moments in my life, those are reserved for facebook or telling people in person. Maybe someday I will have the courage to merge all these different forms of expressing myself, but for now they are going to stay segregated. It's the only thing I can do.