"What Is It With You, Girl?" (February 2012)

  I've been going back and reading my posts over and over to make sure my points are clear and I'm saying what I feel I need to say, but I want to clarify a few things.

  I am fully aware that there are people who suffer from depression worse than I do, and my heart goes out to them.  I'm fully aware that there are people who have had way more traumatic experiences throughout their lives, and my heart goes out to them.  I'm fully aware that I've been pretty damn lucky, and sometimes that's the hardest part of my struggle - What the fuck do I have to be depressed about?  So I'm in the process of figuring out why I suffer from it and how to fix it.  I didn't grow up poor, I was never abused in any way, I was never really bullied in school, aside from the minor teasing I endured because I was a late bloomer, a bookworm, and not very athletic.  (See The Ugly Duckling from Dane's Haus.)  Back when I was growing up bullying was no where near the serious and devastating issue it has become today.
  I take a step back and look at loved ones of mine who've been to hell and back - those who have been exposed to sexual abuse, mental and emotional abuse, addictions and various other tragedies, and I'm in awe at how these people have picked themselves up, dusted their shoulders off, and turned their lives around in order to move in a positive and healthier direction.  It's definitely an inspiration to me, and maybe one day I will share their stories, anonymously of course.
  It's looking like for me it's all boiling down to being chemically imbalanced, and as I move through the grieving process I'm learning that my father's problems stemmed from just that.  "The man who had it all..."  Yet his life never stopped spiraling out of control.  I don't want to end up like that.