How About A Little Comic Relief?

I don't want this blog to be all serious, all the time.  So I'd like to sprinkle it with little anecdotes from my family life, because honestly, someone should make a reality show out of us.  Times like yesterday are why I love being a part of my family.

  The central air conditioning is not working.  Jammed compressor or something.  Thankfully someone is coming out to look at it soon, as I sit here writing this, sweating, and drinking blazing hot coffee.  I'm a glutton for punishment, whatever.

  My brother, his wife, and the baby, Nico, all came over yesterday afternoon to swim because this heat is pretty damn brutal.  Well, you can't swim when it's lightening and there's a storm brewing.  So we battened down the hatches and went back inside, where it was hotter than hell.
  Now work with me for a minute, and just try to visualize three sweaty, grumpy albeit still good-natured adults and a 2 & a 1/2 year old losing their minds.  Thank God we all have a sense of humor.  My brother is running around opening windows, grabbing any fan he can find and positioning them around the family room. My sister in law is laughing at him and making sure her bathing suit is drying so she can sit on the furniture because she didn't want to put her clothes back on, I'm laying face down on the floor trying to cool off and Nico is climbing all over me.  We're pretending to go "night-night" because the fan that is in his bedroom is now downstairs and he thinks it's time to for "night-night."  We're making snoring sounds.
  My brother goes to change Nico, and the baby decides he'd rather run around naked.  (I really couldn't blame him.)  He's also feeling the need to show us all his behind, and playing with his little pee-pee.  My sister in law and I are dying as my brother struggles to get some clothes on him.
  My mother walks into this circus as my sister in law announces, "Hey guys!  My butt is dry!  That's good news!"
  Meanwhile, I'm blowing up my new exercise ball and attempting to use it.  Picture me, the girl with very little coordination and not much grace, trying to balance my ass on this thing, falling off and nearly busting my head on the fireplace hearth.  We were all in tears from laughing so hard.
  Then dinner arrives, the storm breaks, and life goes back to normal...
  Well, whatever it is that we consider normal.

Notes To Him

I always miss you when you're not near me.
I need you.
I want to sleep.
I want a drink.
I think I'll have another cigarette.
Sometimes I want to die.
I need to feel your presence next to me.
Because when I do, the pain goes away.

How The Fuck Did I End Up Here? From February 2012

Let's talk about what exactly depression is. Is it a disease? Is it an affliction? Wikipedia defines it as a state of low mood and aversion to activity that can affect a person's thoughts, behaviour, feelings and physical well-being. Click on the link to read more.

So how do I personally define depression, that from now on I'm going to refer to as my "D," and how does it affect my life? I've battled with it for quite some time now. I've experienced just about every emotional and physical symptom that it can invoke, even ones I would never consider related to it.

The D for me is many things. It's feeling isolated in a crowded room. It's a feeling like a worthless human being. It's feeling like there's no purpose for my life. It's the feeling that no one truly loves me, even though I fucking know better. It's listlessness, frustration, mental exhaustion. It's looking in the mirror and not liking the person staring back at me. And those are just the things I feel inside of me.
Physically, it's the fact that I rarely eat anymore, and when I do my stomach feels like it's trying to lurch it's way out of my body through my navel, or I get indigestion so bad I feel like there's a Mac truck sitting on my chest. It's waking up in the middle of the night unable to breath because I'm having a panic attack, or just not being able to sleep. It's crying so Goddamn much that I get dehydrated, (yes, it's possible,) it's sitting in my room and smoking cigarette after cigarette watching the clock.

I'm having a hard time hiding it anymore as well. People pick up on the fact that I am not okay a little quicker than I'd like. "You look beautiful today baby, but you're not happy, I can see it in your eyes." "You've lost so much weight, you look fantastic, but I can see it in your eyes that something's wrong." Damn me and my tell-all eyes.

I've decided that I'm fed up, and have decided to get professional help, which I'll elaborate on later. Because honestly, I don't know how the fuck I ended up here

Two Years Later... (From June 26, 2012)

My depression got worse before it finally got better.
I've lost touch with the D/s world and am okay with that.
Still a rock & roll junkie.
Still a bit trashy, but I've learned there's a time and place for it.
  Like heavy metal music festivals.
Still a broke bitch but my finances are now in much better shape, so instead of broke let's call it "frugal."
I'm not over Buzzard yet, I wasn't when I wrote it two years ago, but I have moved on and will not let myself look back.  I can't ever let him back into my life this time around.  Ever.  
I've lost even more weight.
And there's more gray hair throughout this mane of mine.
I no longer need contacts or glasses to see.
Cultivated more new friendships and let go of ones that faded away without remorse, animosity, or regret.
Still have the same job, going on year seven.
My nephew has taken to calling me Na-Na.
The car is paid off.
I have health insurance.
Nine tattoos instead of eight.
The revolving door my bed used to be is no longer in service.
  Aka - I'm learning to respect and love myself.
Still in tune with my sexuality but I yearn for something with substance.
I've been to Las Vegas for 3-11 Day and had the time of my life.
My mother and I are as close as ever.
Same goes for my brother and I.
I am fatherless now; mine has gone on to Heaven.
Attempting to grasp the fact that life is about the right-here-right-now, not the what-ifs, would-ofs, or should-ofs, or even the what-wills of the future.  It's about right now.

24 Things I Am Now (From June 23, 2010)

I wrote this in an attempt to figure out where my life was and where I wanted it to go.  I know there's a list from 2009 laying around somewhere but as of right now I cannot find it.  The notes in italics are from my point of view at the present time.

Utterly and hopelessly depressed, worse than ever before. 

  Little did I know it would get so much worse.

More dominant than submissive.  

Rock & Roll junkie.

Still trashy.

Still a broke bitch.

Still slutty.

Eight tattoos.

The aunt of a beautiful baby boy.

  Nico was born on October 27th, 2009.

Over Buzzard.

  Haha, I was delusional.  I was in no way, shape, or form over this man.

Over the other one whose name began with a B.

  The love I had for this one turned into a good friendship.

Having an affair with a co-worker.

  Not so much an affair as just simple fun.  He's still a good friend.

Perfectly lonely.

More mindfuck-er than fuck-ee.

  This is up for debate.

A few pounds lighter.

Noticing more gray hair around my temples.

Mourning the death of more than one friendship.

Back to working for the same boss who hired me out of college.

Closer to my Mama.

Not afraid to jump on a plane, train, or into an automobile.

Feeling like I'm back at square one.

Suffering from a creativity block.

Uninsured.

Attempting to clean up the mess I've made of my life.

Welcome To My Groove - February 2012

What is my purpose for starting this blog?  To give others an inside view of living with depression and anxiety, not just the woe-is-me, "I hate my life," whiny perspective that I find is all too common.  I want this blog to be informational, yet personal.

Some background on myself -
  I've been struggling with depression and anxiety for the majority of my life.  Yes, I grew up a privileged white girl in suburbia who had two loving parents, wanted for nothing and boatloads of friends.  Now I am a still somewhat privileged white girl in her late twenties, still living in suburbia, with a college degree and decent job, even more friends, an adoring little nephew, a loving family, the phone numbers of more men whose faces I can't even remember stored in my phone, who has done more and been more places than most people I know.

So what's your deal, Dana?
The truth is, I don't fucking know.  If I could understand why depression afflicts certain people and leaves others alone, why it makes those of us who do have it feel the way we do, I'd have an answer.  I don't know the reason why I feel alone in a room full of people, or even with someone laying in bed next to me.  I don't know why I feel like no one "gets it," like no one gives a flying fuck about me, but dammit I just do.

I'm starting this blog to track my progress as I travel down this long hard road to recovery and am going to do everything in my power to keep it going, for myself, for anyone else who feels this way, for people who don't understand what it's like for those of us who are unfortunate enough to be afflicted by this awful demon called Depression. And I'm also doing it for my mother.

Whether You Like It Or Not

I'm merging my two blogs, and I've chosen this one as my outlet for...everything and anything.  I had a separate one that was solely based on my struggles with depression, while this one is a little more light-hearted, I realize that, as Jack Johnson says, it's all relative.