Honesty.

I was talking to a friend online today and she was trying to help me with my blog. She gave me some wonderful ideas (which I forgot to copy, sorry Diva). But afterward I came to a sort of realization about my life. I want to be honest with anyone who is reading this, and it's hard for me mostly because there's a certain amount of shame I seem to attach to telling people what my life right now is really like. But I want to be real. So here I am.

I have clinical depression (all you Tom Cruises out there who say it's not real can bite my chemically imbalanced ass) and I am currently on disability. I also live with social anxiety disorder. I am on medication for the depression, but it hasn't been very long so i'm still waiting to see if it's the right one, that's the part I hate "Am I getting better? How long do I wait for this shit to work? What does happy feel like?" i'm not sure I remember. Oh sure I still feel happy sometimes, I still smile and laugh, but it seems like such a minute part of what I feel on a day to day basis.

I don't work, I don't go out, I rarely talk on the phone, I don't even do things within my home, where i'm most comfortable, to expand my horizons. Then I sit infront of this blog post page and stare at the cursor wondering why I have nothing to write about. Then it hit me. You have to have a life in order to write about it. Seems obvious to you doesn't it? I guess i'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes.

I'm not sure if it's the depression or if i've just lost myself completely. Everything inside me, my personality, sense of humor, spirit, wit, expressivity(i checked, it is a real word), all of me seems to be clouded over or underwater, someplace just out of reach. It's so terribly frustrating know i'm in there somewhere, but all I can muster to show the outside world is just a blank shell. I don't even feel like me, i'm blank. I remember me, what I used to be, but it's gone I think. How do I figure out what the now me is like?

Insecurity. Everyone has them. About their looks or their finanaces etc etc etc. But I think i'm insecure about me. All of me. Inside and out. I feel I can't talk about being insecure without sounding like i'm whining but i'm really just trying to discover what's happened to me.

I feel selfish talking about myself. It's very strange, I think it comes from not liking being the center of attention. I'm not sure where the selfish and ashamed part comes from though. I want to get over that.

All of this talk about my life has compelled me to make a decision. I have something very valuable in my everyday life, something not very many people have alot of. Time. I'm very fortunate to have so much, and suddenly I feel responsible to do something worthwhile with it. I have wasted so much time. I have wasted so much of myself.

When i've been in the depths of depression my boyfriend Rick has been there right by my side and he said to me "Do something. Do anything. The smallest thing. You'll feel better, trust me."

I believe it's about time I did.