Not Okay

I don't know how you other v-girls do this. I am so depressed. I know the pain has been worse lately and that's probably part of it. I also know I already have depression issues and maybe if I started as a normal person I wouldn't get this far down...

I know I shouldn't talk about "normal people" but it's really hard not to. When you feel held to a standard, an emotional standard, when you feel judged for emotions that to you are totally organic and normal...when the world still doesn't accept mental illness as valid, when the world can't see mental illness and can't see your pain either and so both are burdens on your behavior, on how you comport yourself, because neither can serve to substantiate the way you're acting...

I am just really depressed. In a different way. It's seeped down into the roots of my mind, corrupting philosophies and deracinating values and apparently vocabularies. I drank a lot, started smoking but neither ever took...cigarettes, the most disgusting things in the world, felt the cancer creeping into my lips. I wish I were addicted to something because then I'd have a pursuit. I'm hurting myself with food which just hurts me more by making me less stable, throws off my mood, less able to cope, spiral down.

I don't know how I'm going to make it. And I just wish for once when I confessed all these things I didn't hear "no, you don't feel that way" or "come on, it'll get better." What is so hard, so foreign about "that sucks and I'm sorry." When I hear what people have to say all I can think is that they don't really understand how bad this is, how very depressed I am, how much the pain hurts, how it is exactly torture, nothing less. How I have lost everything I am and everything I wanted and I don't see a way forward in this world. How I have no energy to care about searching for solutions and I can't rely on anyone else's momentum here, have to do it all myself, because I don't have any advocates or any partner or anyone willing or able to do some sort of spirit-blood transfusion.

How much this feels like a violation of my body, of that body clothed in bright colors and laughing hysterically deep in her four-year-old belly. It feels like I am falling apart. It feels like I'm rotting.

Please don't write me to drop knowledge on me. Don't tell me to get to a head doctor or that I should try this or that approach to resolving the pain. I can't do everything everyone suggests and I just have to put my head down and go one step at a time. And I know I need to get to a head doctor. I've made the appointment.