A serious attempt at introspection.
Normally when I write journal entries, it's to expel some momentary emotion or highlight a semi-interesting thing that I found or did earlier. I don't write very deeply for very long because it often leads to many negative emotions. I want to change that and actually write a thought-provoking entry, one that I can look back on and not think, "I was pretty lame in this journal."
I will begin with my thoughts on the end of my freshman year of college. The last couple months of school were a welcome difference compared to the rest of the school year. I don't dare go back and reread my entries because I might want to punch myself in the face for being so whiny, emotional, and pessimistic. At the same time, I know that when the depression grabs hold of me, I become a shell of the person I know I can be. So I rationalize that it's not really me. I call it a phase. A toxic phase, but, nonetheless, it's temporary.
Anyway, the introduction to a new friend at school into my life was a catalyst for a change in self-confidence. I will call him JB, and he and his roommates played a significant part in my happier life at school.
Now, the classmates in my section were all generally friendly and easygoing, but I never really connected with anyone in particular. I think this is due to my natural introversion, which was exacerbated by depression and low self-esteem. I preferred to keep to myself even though I wanted to make friends. JB would later tell me that I appeared slightly desperate for company, but, hey, when you're engaged in a daily battle with your own mind that's telling you, "I hate you, I hate being in so much pain, so please just find a way to end it," I think it's reasonable to want friends.
JB and I had a slowly developing friendship. I honestly didn't think we were friends until, one day, after I poked fun at him during our light-hearted small talk, he said, "Hey, and here I thought you were my friend."
From then on, I felt better. And then from there, I started to hang out with him more often. Once I met his roommates, we all began to have awesome card parties and whatnot. Having an established friend group, for some reason, boosted my confidence so much. I didn't even think about being depressed for a long time. JB and I aren't alike in many ways, and yet we were good friends. It was he who first said, "I'm your friend so I care about you." I rarely extend myself like that, so it felt like a relief. I wonder now that maybe I am too distrusting of other people, too hard, too paranoid, too critical.
More than once, someone else gave the suggestion of getting a boyfriend. JB too. I think that would be healthy for me right now. First of all: If I can't even love myself, how can I love another person in a selfless and healthy way? My first involvement became messy near the end, and even now, it haunts me. I became an unhealthy individual, so when that relationship ended, the effects were unhealthy too. I want to learn how to stand on my own two feet, and having to depend on someone will only perpetuate the "damsel in distress" mentality that I sometimes have in my depressive attacks.
I don't want to feel like I can't live without another person. Not right now. Sure, I'm not the happiest individual and I have a lot of problems that need to be addressed, but at least I'm not dragging another person through the mud with me.
Another thing I realized about myself is that I want to have control over things that happen in my life. I used to have an overwhelming desire to seize control, but that urge is diminished. Now, I just have a hard time giving a shit about anything. When it comes to school, I don't care about it as much as I used to. I don't care about other people's perceptions of me, which is either a good or bad thing depending on the circumstances.
But I don't really care about keeping people in my life, and that scares me. I used to care a lot last year, after my dad died. I have this mentality that once I think someone is attacking me for who I am or disregarding my worth as a human being, they aren't worth my time nor my consideration. So I switch off the "considerate" side of me toward those people. The problem isn't so much what other people do, but how I judge others' actions toward me. I think I exaggerate the wrongdoing and it matters too much. I want to learn how to let go.
Now that I have written quite a bit, my bed calls for me. Time to sleep soundly for Mother's Day tomorrow!
I will begin with my thoughts on the end of my freshman year of college. The last couple months of school were a welcome difference compared to the rest of the school year. I don't dare go back and reread my entries because I might want to punch myself in the face for being so whiny, emotional, and pessimistic. At the same time, I know that when the depression grabs hold of me, I become a shell of the person I know I can be. So I rationalize that it's not really me. I call it a phase. A toxic phase, but, nonetheless, it's temporary.
Anyway, the introduction to a new friend at school into my life was a catalyst for a change in self-confidence. I will call him JB, and he and his roommates played a significant part in my happier life at school.
Now, the classmates in my section were all generally friendly and easygoing, but I never really connected with anyone in particular. I think this is due to my natural introversion, which was exacerbated by depression and low self-esteem. I preferred to keep to myself even though I wanted to make friends. JB would later tell me that I appeared slightly desperate for company, but, hey, when you're engaged in a daily battle with your own mind that's telling you, "I hate you, I hate being in so much pain, so please just find a way to end it," I think it's reasonable to want friends.
JB and I had a slowly developing friendship. I honestly didn't think we were friends until, one day, after I poked fun at him during our light-hearted small talk, he said, "Hey, and here I thought you were my friend."
From then on, I felt better. And then from there, I started to hang out with him more often. Once I met his roommates, we all began to have awesome card parties and whatnot. Having an established friend group, for some reason, boosted my confidence so much. I didn't even think about being depressed for a long time. JB and I aren't alike in many ways, and yet we were good friends. It was he who first said, "I'm your friend so I care about you." I rarely extend myself like that, so it felt like a relief. I wonder now that maybe I am too distrusting of other people, too hard, too paranoid, too critical.
More than once, someone else gave the suggestion of getting a boyfriend. JB too. I think that would be healthy for me right now. First of all: If I can't even love myself, how can I love another person in a selfless and healthy way? My first involvement became messy near the end, and even now, it haunts me. I became an unhealthy individual, so when that relationship ended, the effects were unhealthy too. I want to learn how to stand on my own two feet, and having to depend on someone will only perpetuate the "damsel in distress" mentality that I sometimes have in my depressive attacks.
I don't want to feel like I can't live without another person. Not right now. Sure, I'm not the happiest individual and I have a lot of problems that need to be addressed, but at least I'm not dragging another person through the mud with me.
Another thing I realized about myself is that I want to have control over things that happen in my life. I used to have an overwhelming desire to seize control, but that urge is diminished. Now, I just have a hard time giving a shit about anything. When it comes to school, I don't care about it as much as I used to. I don't care about other people's perceptions of me, which is either a good or bad thing depending on the circumstances.
But I don't really care about keeping people in my life, and that scares me. I used to care a lot last year, after my dad died. I have this mentality that once I think someone is attacking me for who I am or disregarding my worth as a human being, they aren't worth my time nor my consideration. So I switch off the "considerate" side of me toward those people. The problem isn't so much what other people do, but how I judge others' actions toward me. I think I exaggerate the wrongdoing and it matters too much. I want to learn how to let go.
Now that I have written quite a bit, my bed calls for me. Time to sleep soundly for Mother's Day tomorrow!