(Note to the person who I think still stalks my blog - Some of this might upset you, so please look at the words and what I actually mean by them. I'm fine. I might have what I say I do, even so I'm not going to do anything. I promise I mean that. Okay?)
Before anyone gets confused, I'm not talking about sadness. Many people think there's no difference between sadness and depression, but there is. My mum explained it to me - with sadness, there is always some hope that things will get better, however small. With depression, you lose sight of that hope.
I was in the chemist just over two weeks ago, waiting for my prescription for stress-induced nausea. Acid reduction tablets. Ranitidine. What ever you want to call it. Anyway, I saw a book on depression, with a massive storm cloud on the front. Not all that promising. I picked it up, and looked at the list of symtoms. The ones that stuck in my head were something like -
- Lack of self-belief
- Loss of interest in hobbies
- Lack of emotion
- Suicidal intent.
There were many more, but these made me feel a bit uneasy. I have the first, second, third sometimes and, while not suicidal intent, a kind of feeling like there's no point to being here. Like I just can't be bothered anymore.
Then my Mum told me she thinks she had depression from my age, till she had me - at age 23. I know my Granddad on her side gets depression, and my Dad gets depression and anxiety. Just fucking great. I've got it on both sides. I asked my Mum whether it's hereditary, and she told me she thinks that it's a genetic thing to be prone to it.
So I think I have depression. But when I feel down, I feel so guilty. If I look at my life, I have nothing to be down about compared to some other people, but then I think about my parents and I think I do. It just makes me so confused, because compared to some people, I just have nothing to be sad about. I have a house, amazing, amazing friends, I can go to school, I have at least one parent who loves me and even though some shit may be happening, it's not going to kill me. But I still feel down, almost permanently, and I have the fact that I might have a mental illness bearing down on me to make me feel even worse.
So. I have plenty of things to chew on.
I can't think of a way to end this, so I'm just going to. The End.
-edit- I just remembered I forgot to say I bought Umbrella Academy Apocalypse Suite yesterday, whoop! And I got a really great book from the library called The Art Of Drawing And Creating Manga, and it's really interesting. I'm sort of okay at it, surprisingly. This really is the end. Good Afternoon.
