Easter Weekend: Trying to Be a People

Last week sucked. It sucked hard.

I was very low Monday after my pharmaceutical FIASCO. Tuesday… I was weirdly better. It’s a trend I’ve noticed, that when I hit rock bottom I tend to be better, because apathy kicks in. The less I care, the happy I often am, but it’s not a cure all. The rest of the week was still a struggle. I was still down, having had all my hopes and dreams of feeling better dashed to the ground, and spit on, and kicked by Kaiser Permanente,but the weekend was a pleasant relief.

I was unusually social.

Friday I went to David 2’s to watch RuPaul and Martha & Snoop. HOW DID WE MISS THE RETURN OF MARTHA & SNOOP? We still don’t know, but we’re happy to catch up. I worry about David 2, because he has a substance abuse problem. It seems that every weekend he has to get as drunk and high as humanly possible. While I’m not hating on people that like to get twisted, I feel like it’s not a good thing to need that every weekend… and high as a kite every single night. That’s my dad. That’s exactly how my dad is. Oddly enough… all three of us (David 2, myself, and dad) are all bipolar… I hope I don’t ever fall into that habit. I had fun, though. We shared music and watched TV and microwaved Peeps in honor of Easter!

​(This is not our picture… We microwaved one on a paper towel, and then a whole box of them… but like… I needed a melty peep pic… I needed it.)

Saturday Mothership and I got our hair done. I whacked all mine off. It’s pretty normally colored, though. Got some rose gold and pinks for spring. It’s cute, and there’s nothing better than whacking off your hair when you’re having an emotional crisis. I convinced Mothership to whack hers off, too. She looks younger with a cut closer to her head.

Afterwards, I took her to Ulta, because I wanted lip plumper. I like lip plumper. I like when it hurts. I got Buxom, if you’re curious. The shade is Samantha. While we were there, however, they were doing free makeovers for spring. I did not get a makeover… I have a certain look that I do, and I don’t like people trying things with my look. BUT these were older women, and they noticed Mothership’s eyebrow situation… as in, she has none. I convinced her to let this woman show her how easy it is to pencil on eyebrows. It really is easy. She ended up getting the box the chick used, and some cream to bleach her dark spots.

Meanwhile… I discovered Nyx.

I’ve been a pretty loyal Smashbox girl for years, but it’s so expensive. Nyx is pretty cheap… and the COLORS are amazing. I conned myself into some ridiculously colored lipsticks, eyeliner, and even a contour kit… I’m not great at contouring yet, but I’m working on it. I figured that going back to putting on makeup in the morning would help me feel more like a person… and since I’m still so depressed that it’s hard for me to even shower regularly, figured I’d take it up a notch… because why not make it harder?

#TryingToBeAPeople

I’m trying to figure out contouring, too.

I went to see Missa Saturday afternoon. I gave her a box of painting supplies. I’m trying to ween myself off having SO MANY hobbies, because it takes up room. So I gave her all that, and now I just gotten figure out who to unload my yarn on. She was happy to see me, which was weird for me… I don’t have a lot of confidence in most people actually liking me. She invited me to hang out for a couple of hours and we just caught up. Then Lola came home and we talked about her starting a makeup channel on YouTube. I told her that I’d love to help, even if she just wants to put stuff all over my face. Much to my surprise, she messaged me this morning to make plans for Thursday. So… it’s weird, but good.

When I got done at the Polygon (literally we call it that because a ton of poly people just move in and out of there all the time, with Lola, Rhonda, and Missa being the constants), I zipped out to Lakewood to see Bren. Shaunna got off work early, and we all ate ribs and hung out, and I kicked Bren’s ass twice in Star Realms. Lol. It was a good time. I really enjoyed the socializing.

Sunday was Easter! We did nothing.

Well, that’s not true… Mom got me a dark chocolate bunny, a small box of Russel Stover’s, and a bag of apple flavored gummy bears… and then we went to the grocery store, and I wasted the rest of the day with the dogs watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, Season 7. Lol.

I enjoyed doing nothing.

Tuesday is my phone call with the psychiatric nurse, and then I’m off until next Wednesday. So… Just gotta get through the current chaos…

Latuda Costs $1120.00

So… yesterday was awful.

It didn’t START awful. Like, I didn’t wake up already feeling like I should kill myself or blow up a medical building, but I ended the day debating both. I did neither, I promise.

So yesterday I went to see my old primary care doctor, because Kaiser is a piece of shit system that hasn’t afforded me the ability to see any kind of NEW primary care doctor, even though it’s April. I don’t know if I told you guys how hard getting this appointment was, so a brief recap was that I got accused of trying to commit insurance fraud. So, I already didn’t feel GREAT about going in, but I like my doctor and felt like she could throw me a metaphorical bone.

The appointment was as expected, except that the nurse that took my blood pressure and stuff also gave me a Peep… That was unexpectedly nice.

I had to field the normal questions, such as whether I’d lost interest in hobbies, if I still go out, etc. Every answer was, of course, overwhelmingly bleak, so I tossed in that I had a friend to help get me out of the house, and that mom also tried to get me to do things… seemed to make her feel better, even if it’s something of a mixed truth.

She wrote me a script for Latuda, which is an antipsychotic currently being used to treat bipolar depression. It’s not unusual for a bipolar to take an antipsychotic, and I’ve taken one before that was supposed to help with my irritability (it didn’t help with that, but it gave me some wicked nightmares). The reason doctors give out things like antipsychotics to treat bipolar depression, is because if you give us something like an SSRI there’s a good chance we’ll be stuck in a manic state, and they say that can be really dangerous. I disagree, on the grounds that my mania is the best part of my life… but you can’t trust a manic bipolar… we’re impulsive and irrational… so they say.

So I went back to work, but this headache I’d been fighting all day got the best of me and I ended up going home early, before I reached a point where I couldn’t drive. I went home and changed, and then went to the Kaiser pharmacy by the house. I hate that pharmacy… it’s full of weird people, sick people, and Kaiser employees that seem about as happy to work there as I am to have Kaiser Insurance. Still, I was excited to finally get something that could bring some spark of relief. My life has been so heavy and dark recently, that the spark of hope was blinding.

All my hope was obliterated when the pharmacist, who was quite unpleasant to start with, loudly said that my medication cost $1120.00 and that my doctor should put me on something cheaper. People in the back of the pharmacy gasped, and I… didn’t know what to do. She continued on about how Kaiser’s formulary is available online and some other useless facts that didn’t help anyone and just further embarrassed me. So, I just left. I felt like someone had just run over my dog and then blamed me having the audacity to own a dog for why they killed it. I felt like nothing mattered anymore. I was completely devastated.

In my stupor, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I mean what do people do when they’ve lost literally all hope of life ever getting better? Oddly enough, as often as I’ve considered and mulled over suicide, in this moment of absolute wreckage I didn’t consider that at all. I just felt lost and hopeless and like I was drowning. I cried all the way home, which wasn’t really that far, and then decided I should just talk to my mom. She was at a vet appointment for Ava, so I sat on her doorstep and waited for her to come home.

There were tears and stuff, but essentially she just told me to call my doc and see if there was an alternative medication. I did that, but it’s almost 11am the next day and I haven’t heard from the office…

My mom convinced me to try and make a mental health appointment with Kaiser again, so I did that this morning. Kinda.

This part of Kaiser really adds insult to injury. I’m at a place where I need to see a mental health professional. I don’t know how low OTHER people have to be to see a mental health professional, but for me it’s pretty close to rock bottom. Well, since I “self-referred” myself Kaiser won’t schedule the appointment until I have a conversation with a psychiatric nurse and convince her that I’m sick enough to see a doctor. The idea is that she approves the self referral. It’s just insulting, though. I’ve never had to convince someone that I needed a shrink before, and it makes me want to slit my wrists in a Kaiser building and spell out AM I SICK ENOUGH NOW!? all over their walls. Like, this is a shitty way to treat people who are crazy.

Still, I’m sucking it up and I’ll do the fucking phone call… I’m not going to be happy about it. Every single fiber of my being wanted to tell the appointment guy that this is fucked up and I shouldn’t have to convince a nurse that I’m potentially suicidal in order to get an appointment with someone who can give me something for it. The thing about that is that I know that guy is just doing his job… so… I try not freak out on people who are just trying to live. Also, if you mention that this might be some kind of emergency, they just want you to go to an ER. I don’t need an ER right now… and actually if I did I still probably wouldn’t go to one… What’s the point of living if you’re just gonna rack up an incredible amount of medical debt to hang over your head for the rest of your life? Like… no… that doesn’t appeal to me.

We’ll see what happens.

The one thing about hitting a rock bottom, even if it’s not the lowest I can get, is that today doesn’t bother me so much. Work is still shitty, but why wouldn’t it be? I’m still fat, but I don’t care. My overwhelming sadness has been replaced with apathy. Somehow that’s still an improvement. I think when I get home I’m gonna spring and get my Adobe Creative Cloud… start reteaching myself how to make art with it. I can’t draw, but maybe I can restore some old photos or make a collage or something… just something. Cuz why not?

If yesterday didn’t end me, it just proves that it’s going to take something worse than losing all hope for life before I check out early.

Hard Day

I’m having a hard day…

That’s not a new thing, it’s just how my day is panning out.

I woke up in a pool of sweat.

I almost threw up several times this morning.

I actually threw up twice this morning.

And… yeah.
I want to dig a hole, curl up in it, cover myself with a large rock, and die.

That’s where I’m at today.

I am so fucking tired of feeling this way.



I’m glad that I have an appointment with my doc coming up, but I swear to god that I would kill a drifter to be able to see someone right now. I’m just over this feeling. I’m over being sad, and tired, and overthinking random people’s comments, and just constantly having a little voice in the back of my head that goes, “Wouldn’t it be easier if you were dead?” Because yes. It would be so much easier on me to just be dead.

Don’t hear me wrong. I don’t want to die. I am not suicidal. I’m often finding myself talking myself out of some kind of self harm, but I’m not suicidal. I just… am not doing well with existing at this exact moment. Also, I feel like it’s getting progressively worse. It’s not like it’s suddenly more frequent, because everyday is already super frequent, it’s just more consuming.

Metaphorically, my depression is like getting stray ink on you from a pen. It started as, oh shit, I have ink on my hand, and has now become something like, oh my god, my pen exploded and ruined my white clothing.

I don’t really have more to say, unfortunately, so I hope you enjoy my short, but depressing post.

#Depression : How my life is currently blah

Hey guys, girls, and non-binary pals!
(Yes, I stole that from Thomas Sanders… but I don’t think he’d sue me for it, seeing as it’s the catchiest way to properly greet everyone.)

So it’s been a while…I’m trying to post this via email, so we’ll see how the formatting comes out.

I had to correct the last entry a little. I thought my step sister named her kid Anakin. My HALF sister named her son Anakin. My step sister named HER son Avi. Ani and Avi… Just like… Okay, family… Whatever. Fortunately, I’m estranged, so like… this is just information I get to have, as opposed to a piece of my actual life.

Let’s see. Updates in my life?

LIFE UPDATE A, I’m going to Oregon.
I finally booked a ticket to go visit my bestie in Oregon come May. She’s excited. I’m excited. We’re gonna play Injustice 2 with her husband, and see Singing in the Rain at this cool theater, AND she’s thinking of getting a beach house for a couple days so we can hit the beach. I am super stoked. I could really the use the vacation, but also I really miss her. I find myself in a lot of situations where I’m like, “I wish Billie was here to hang out with me.” So like, getting to see her and stuff is super exciting and I’m super happy about it.

LIFE UPDATE 2, I am horrifically depressed.
I’ve been depressed for a while. This isn’t new, other than I was originally thinking that I was depressed because I was tired, but I’m pretty much sure that I’m tired because I’m depressed. It’s been a bad couple of months. I’ve been sad. I cry for no reason. I recently discovered that if I listen to music that makes me happy I cry… so that’s a weird thing. Pretty much, at this point, I am just constantly pushing down the urge to cry at all times. Also, sometimes I want to cry, and nothing happens. It’s crazy.

So, being a rational human being (hahahahahaha…. right), I finally reached a place where I decided that I should see a doctor.

SKIP ALL OF THIS IS YOU DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT HOW FUCKED KAISER INSURANCE IS.

So, I called my local Kaiser Behavioral Center and asked for an appointment concerning severe depression. “Yeah…. we’re not gonna do that… we’re gonna schedule a psychiatric nurse to call you in a week, and if you can convince HER that you’re sad, we can schedule an appointment with a shrink for you in… like 2 months.”

Obviously, they said it more professionally than that, but that’s still what they said. They scheduled for a nurse to call and interrogate me, and then IF I seemed like I actually needed to see someone, they were scheduled about 2 months out… to which I just thought… Yeah, cuz it’s not like people kill themselves when they’re depressed or anything.

I am not suicidal, btw… not right now, anyways.

Anyways, so the day before this nurse is supposed to call me, I get a call and this chick is like, “So I was looking at your chart, and honestly, because of how far out the appointments are, maybe you should go through your primary… but I see you don’t have a Kaiser primary caregiver?” And yeah, I don’t. The facility close to my house, and pretty much EVERY OTHER KAISER FACILITY has no doctors accepting new patients. As a result, I’ve just been avoiding having to see the doctor. So this chick is trying to tell me that this other facility has some open spots and I’m trying to explain to her that the other facility is really out of my way… It boiled down to cancelling the phone call, because it wasn’t going to do me any good anyway…

In related news, my mother is on Kaiser, too, because we share an employer. She has a very bad cough, and can’t breathe. I accidentally gave her my upper respiratory infection. So, she called the appointment line at Kaiser and asked to see ANYONE at the facility by the house that could advise her. They really just wanted her to go to the ER. Uhm, no. Kaiser only uses certain hospitals, A, and 2, it’s $500 to go to the ER. She wanted a script for the cough. So after fighting tooth and nail for her right to be able to SEE A HUMAN BEING, she finally got in with someone. They couldn’t give her much for it, apparently, but they gave her an inhaler and some pills to suppress cough. Fuck man. Kaiser super doesn’t want you to actually see their doctors. They will do ANYTHING to deter you from actually seeing a doctor. Literally, they wanted to know why she didn’t have a primary that she could just email about it. I dunno about you, but in the event I actually get to the point where I want to see a doctor, I don’t want to email them about it. WHAT IF IT’S PNEUMONIA?! They can’t accurate diagnose you via email for shit like that… It’s just… ugh… so annoying.

I AM NOW DONE RANTING ABOUT KAISER

So, I called my doctor. On my insurance, I can see an out-of-network doctor 10 times. I have to submit a claim and stuff, but it’s an option, and I was so fucking fed up with the run around from Kaiser, that I made an appointment with my doctor. HERE IS THE MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO: I told the girl making the appointment that I wanted to see my doc about depression. My doc is booked up until the second week of April. She repeatedly tried to get me to see a nurse practitioner or another doctor this week. She was very insistent, because I was making an appointment for DEPRESSION.
I appreciated it, but if I’m going to pay to see my doctor, I want to see MY doctor, ya know? So, I see her the 2nd week of April, and I’m sure my depression will hold until then. Why not? It’s held this long.

I’m still not like… good. I’m better, knowing that I can see my doc in a couple weeks, but like… pretty much anything makes me want to cry right now. It’s crap ass as fuck.

LIFE UPDATE D, I went on the worst date I’ve ever been on.
So, I was seeing the Robot Boy for a while, but I have since just stopped talking to him all together… and I will tell you why.

He was supposed to come to a game night my friend was having, because we all wanted to play a D&D type game. Cool. We are nerds. The night before was his actual D&D night with his own nerds. That got cancelled, and he seemed real bummed about it. I wasn’t doing anything, so I asked if he wanted to do a thing. This was my mistake. I should staid on script. We had plans for the next night. We didn’t need to see each other.

Anyways, he invited me over, told me to bring some movies, and said he’d order pizza. Cool. Great. I am not high maintenance. Movies and pizza are great. The drive to his place was ridiculous, though.

I don’t like to go far to see people. It’s a thing. If you’re more than like 20 minutes away, you’re kinda far… especially in winter. It was a nice evening, though, so I made the trip. It’s 45 minutes if you have good traffic and about an hour in normal traffic. I find that REALLY far, but I was trying REALLY hard to socialize and get to know a person.

On top of all that, I had to look like a people for this person I’m dating, so I put effort into my clothes, and I had to find some movies I thought he’d like. That’s hard. I own mostly horror movies. Lots of people don’t find watching a film crew get horribly murdered and eaten by a tribe in South America to be a good time. So I dug around in the basement and pulled some good ones.

So I load up, I make the drive, and when I get there…

Okay, I’m not high maintenance. I don’t need fancy. I don’t even need to go out once I’m relatively sure that you’re either not a serial killer, or at least not going to kill me. I don’t need to be wined and dined. I don’t need name brand. I don’t need gifts. I’m just looking for someone that I enjoy hanging out with. I need you to understand this before I tell you about the date. I don’t think I’m being high maintenance here. Yes, we’d been talking since last June, but in actual dates, we were on date five, maybe. If it’s the 5th time you’re seeing someone in person, this is not how I recommend acting.

So I show up, and he’s wearing sweatpants and a ratty shirt. Not impressed, especially after I legit put on makeup, since it’s the fifth time we’ve seen each other in person. I rationalize it, though, because I’m not a high maintenance gal. I get it. He’s at home. He’s comfortable. Fine. Clothes don’t make the man. We ate some pizza and I let it go.

So, I ask what movie he wants to watch, and he decides he doesn’t want to watch a movie. He just wants to watch Bojack Horseman. I’m kind of miffed,since I went to a lot of effort to try and find movies, but I’m adaptable. I haven’t watched Bojack, but I hear good things. He’s in the middle of Season 2, though, and no, we are not starting over. So I watch it. I dunno what’s going on, but whatever. I try to ask a couple questions, like why Todd lives with Bojack, since I don’t know what’s going on, and he gets kinda irritated about it, saying he didn’t put that much thought into cartoons… so I just sit there. Meanwhile, he really wants to do that touchy-feely-cuddle shit, and I’m just not about it. I’m not a cuddler on a normal day, but I’m super not one when I’m irritated with people. I’m trying to be cordial about it, but I’m irritated. This whole night seems to be a vague, uninspired attempt at Netflix and Chill. If you’re gonna Netflix and Chill me, put some fucking effort into it.

I guess at some point he noticed I was irritated… or maybe not. He went to his room, got a blanket and a pillow, and burrito’d up on the couch. And I’m just like, “Why am I even here?” And that was my queue to leave. He didn’t seem to mind… and I’m like… well fuck… what a ruined Friday night I could’ve devoted to anything else.

Here’s why I’m mad: If he didn’t want to do anything, we didn’t need to do anything. I didn’t need to drive that far. I was not lonely. I was planning on seeing him the next day anyways. I was totally happy staying at home playing video games. HE invited ME over.

Anyways, I cancelled him coming to game night, by blatantly lying (I said that Bren’s kid was Exorcists vomiting so it was cancelled). I just… wasn’t having it. Bren, and other people I’ve told about the night, agree that it was strange. So, I still don’t think it’s me.

But yeah. That was god-awful. And it sure as shit didn’t help my depression.

In unrelated to me news, David 2 is seeing someone. We went out with a girl I know and her gay friend, and the gay friends hooked up. That’s nice, I guess. I try not to be envious about it, but…

I manage to get him to go out to a bar one time, and he ends up dating someone. I couldn’t pull that off if my life depended on it. I’m fucking lonely. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him. I am. I hope it works out and that they end up being boyfriends, fiances, and live happily ever after with a fantastic wedding, but I’m still envious.

Maybe I’m just envious because of the depression. That’s a totally valid kinda thing. Maybe if I can wrap my arms around this depression thing and haul myself out of this dark place I’ll be less… resentful. I dunno. We’ll see, I guess.

Anyways… I’m out for now.

Hope this formats right.

TTYL Silent Audience.

Fatigue or Depression???

Am I depressed because I’m tired, or tired because I’m depressed?

I feel like this is the kind of question that a normal person doesn’t have to seriously ask themselves, but it’s a question I’m currently faced with.

I am perpetually tired. I wake up tired, I force my way through the day, and then I go home and go to bed early. It’s shitty. I don’t want to go to the gym, because I’m tired. I don’t want to go out with friends, because I’m tired. I don’t want to go to work, because I’m tired. I don’t want to get out of bed, because I’m tired.

I’m fucking tired, or being FUCKING TIRED.

It’s hard to live when you’re perpetually tired. Getting out of bed is the hardest battle of my day. On the weekends, sometimes I don’t get out of bed at all. Yesterday I got up at one in the afternoon. I only managed that because the dogs and I were hungry. When I do manage to get up, I can’t focus well. Work is hell, because it’s just me trying to focus and then having to redo whatever I was doing because I forgot what I was doing to start with. After work, I haven’t been able to make it to the gym much. I’m fucking tired. I look forward to going home, eating dinner, and sleeping. Consequently, I’m not enjoying my hobbies, because all I want to do when I get home is sleep. Also, my social life is suffering. I don’t have the energy to go out. I don’t want to be out. I want to be at home asleep. So, I’m not seeing my friends, either.

No hobbies, no socializing, no energy to exercise…. It’s no wonder I feel depressed.

Still, am I depressed because I’m tired? Or am I tired because I’m quite deeply depressed?
If I’m depressed, I’ve been depressed since about June… and that’s a problem, too.

I’m cut off contact with the friends I used to have. I talk to all of three people regularly, now. I tell myself it’s because they weren’t great friends… and maybe that’s partially true. They weren’t, but who really is? I haven’t had a real best friend since that girl that stopped talking to me because her boyfriend (who she eventually married and started a family with) didn’t like me. I don’t have someone I feel like I can talk to about anything important.

People always tell you that you can tell them things… but have you actually had someone open up to you? It’s awful. You like them, sure, but you can’t HELP them. What do they really think you can offer them in the way of consolation or advice? I think about this when the thought crosses my mind to tell someone anything. And then I don’t tell anyone anything.

I did go to the doctor, though. Since I’ve been tired since JUNE I decided that warranted a doctor visit. She asked if I’d been sick, and as polite as I could I told her I’d been sick a couple of weeks ago, but not since June. She did a depression survey, and I took time to mention that I’m bipolar, and how I couldn’t be sure if I’m tired because I’m depressed or depressed because I’m tired. We also discussed how I don’t seem to be cycling (I thought about that later and realized I am cycling, just not to the extremes I’m really used to since I’m exhausted ALL THE TIME). In the end, she ordered me a Pulse Oximiter to wear while I sleep to see if maybe I have sleep apnea, and ran a whole lot of blood tests (about six vials worth) and last night I got the call back on it.

I was honestly hoping that there was something wrong with my thyroid or liver. You see, I get really angry when they run all these tests and there’s NOTHING to explain why I feel bad. If they can’t find anything wrong with me, they can’t fix it. It happens a lot, and not just to me. My mom is notorious for thinking she’s dying and the doc not being able to determine why. I don’t, for a second, believe that there’s nothing wrong with me… but according to the blood tests, there’s nothing to explain why I’ve been incapable of being a proper human being since June.

My blood tests revealed I have a viral infection. They didn’t specify what KIND of viral infection, so I don’t know if it’s residual from being sick after going to hang with Bren when Michael was sick (I was so sick after that… and I didn’t even touch the kid) or like an Epstein Barr Viral infection… but they want to see me in a month to see if the infection is gone… Also, my vitamin D levels are REALLY low. They like to see people with a score above 30, but according to the internet a score of 20-50 is considered fine. Mine is 10. So, they want me to take 10k units of vitamin D.

Here’s the thing about vitamin D. When my mom came up with a vitamin D deficiency, the doc told her to take 10k units of it a day. That caused an overdose and she became weak and her whole body hurt. So when you’re deficient, it can cause brittle bones and MIGHT cause fatigue. When you OD you are subjected to pain and weakness. Vitamin D is scary.

So instead of following orders, I’ll be taking 5k units a day… assuming I can remember to take it. They also want to see me in a month to see if the viral infection is gone. So… I’m not real confident that I’m going to feel better any time soon.

I’m going to see if I can WILL myself to feel better.
Make myself go to the gym.
Make myself get back into illustration.
Make myself be social… maybe…

I feel exhausted and sad just thinking about it…

High-Functioning

I keep seeing stories about high-functioning depression all over the soc-meedz (social media) and I think it’s super weird. People always say the weirdest things about high-functioning depressive types. They were so happy. You’d never guess. They were so successful. They had their life together. By all accounts, they were living the perfect life. I had no idea. I can’t believe they’d do this. They just seemed so normal.

Really, people?

Maybe it’s because I live with more mental illness than the normal person, but no suicide attempt ever comes out of nowhere. No one is perfectly fine while keeping a deep dark secret of extreme depression. No one is living a perfect life right before they chase a bottle of aspirin with a bottle of vodka. (Do people still try to kill themselves with aspirin? I don’t actually know.)

No one is fine.

Some of the most depressed people I know are also the most social, the most ambitious, the most outwardly happy… The ones that invite you to brunch every weekend. Know how to spot a depressed person? Look for someone whose life you envy. Look for someone that seems happy. Look for someone. Anyone.

What’s really bothering me about this article trend isn’t that people managed to slip under the radar. What’s really eating at me is that I AM NOT HIGH-FUNCTIONING, AND PEOPLE STILL DON’T GIVE A FUCK.
I’m not outwardly happy. I’m not social. I don’t have my life together. I’m not overachieving. I don’t have stable relationships. I don’t see people on a regular basis.
I’m reclusive, moody, very forward about my general dislike of people, and in general the only high-functioning aspect to me is that I get up and go to work consistently.
It’s not an achievement.

And yet… If I went home this evening and hung myself from my stairs, people would be just as surprised as ever.

High-functioning mental illness is scary, but not because no one ever sees it coming… it’s scary because no one cares. I’ve thrown up pretty much every red flag on the list short of actually drinking bleach. I’m drowning in myself over here. I’m choking on life and the reality of every day being the same.

Last night I went home and had a hysterical breakdown. It was a shitty day. I rode home in weird tense silence with my very depressed mother. We stopped at the grocery and all I could manage to think of to buy were Michellina’s dinners, because they were a dollar. Then I went home and one of my dogs tried to eat my computer mouse, my record collection, and generally wrecked the house. I freaked out and after yelling about how I don’t deserve to be treated this way, I left. Just left.
Fortunately, I had no where to go. Went home and dug out a giant dog kennel, which is where my darling Keagan is today… Spent an hour reinforcing the seams, because it’s pop-up and last time I used it, Kyrie busted herself out of it and destroyed her face fitting through the seams. Blood everywhere. Not doing that again… Then I literally sat in a chair and stared at nothing for 30 minutes.
Then I went to bed at 8pm.
I woke up this morning at 1am… and proceeded to just watch iZombie till it was time to leave for work. In that time, I also decided that I should just box up everything I own and either store it under the house or toss it. I don’t really use anything, so it’s not like I’d miss any of it, other than for sentimental reasons. I essentially just watch TV at this point in my life. Lost all creative juices, no motivation to fix up the house, and sometimes I just want to lay in the middle of the floor and stare at the ceiling…

But if I go home and kill myself, no one is going to see that coming.
They never see anything coming.

You don’t have to be high-functioning to hide. Just avoid the subject and people will gladly pretend not to see the scars. Smile and people will look past the tears. Apologize when you’ve thrown a fit and no one thinks twice about it even happening. You’re not depressed or bipolar. You’re just eclectic, or a little sad sometimes, maybe having a hard time. You’re the novelty friend. You’re really busy, so you don’t get out much.

High-functioning, my ass.