30 September 2006

The Ugly Truth of Me

Editor's Note: Might be graphic, about my depression. No sex here, so skip it if you're just looking to get off...

This is a really hard post for me to write. And I could just as easily not write it and skip over it like it doesn't exist. Except for the fact that it's consuming my thoughts lately and starting to take over too much of my life.

I "ran away" Thursday afternoon, though no where far as I just couldn't justify hotel expenses, even if it was for my sanity.

I hate the fall because I always get depressed in the fall. Some years aren't as bad, but this year is the hardest since high school. High school was the worst. And I really do hate feeling like I'm 15 again.

But it's the kind of depression where I wake up at noon, eat breakfast and go back to bed an hour or two later to sleep some more. Where dragging myself to class takes every ounce of energy I have. And then I have to find more just to be around my roommates. And the kind of depression where I cry for hours at a time about nothing and everything. The kind where after 2 years of not doing it, I've again taken a blade to my skin to try and release the tension in my body.

And it's really hard to be depressed when you live with 4 energetic girls.

So I left. I skipped class, my favorite one even, art history, and quickly packed my vodka, my Hawthorne, and art supplies and vibrator. (Hey I might as well masturbate when I have some alone time!)

I stopped at the art store and picked up some supplies I needed and headed to where I knew I could be alone.

First thing I did when I arrived, was nap. And it was a good nap. In a nice big comfy bed. Not like in my hard, bunk bed in the dorm.

And then I mastrubated. And not the quick, get it done before people come back like in my dorm.

I then stopped at the library to check my e-mail to make sure no one was looking for me and get some art books.

After I had my dinner, I sat down to create.

Except, I realized, hey, I have never studied drawing or painting and thus have absolutely no skill. And even though I checked out 100 books, I just couldn't teach myself.

And with my lower level of frustration, I promptly teared up. And I fell to the floor and cried. I sobbed. My body shook as the tears rolled down my cheeks onto the floor. After what felt like forever, I picked myself up, wiped my face and blew my nose and proceeded to paint. Abstract forms. A little bit easier.

But the sadness was still eating away at me. As I sat on the couch, listening to my iPod, I knew I needed to do it again. Cut. And I cried because no matter how much I did, it wasn't enough. It wasn't deep enough.

I didn't think there were more tears left in me, but there were. And as I cried for another hour, I prayed to God for help. Asking Him to make it stop hurting. I went to get tissues from the bathroom but found myself rummaging through the medicine cabinet. I pulled every pill bottle off the shelf and examined them, what they were, how many pills were in the bottles. I calculated in my head if it'd be enough. Because I knew from past experience it takes a good amount.

And I freaked. I fell to the floor, against the bathtub, and cried even harder. I wished I wasn't alone because I was so scared. I wanted Jefferson or Mitzi or just anyone at that moment. I grabbed my phone, and texted Mitzi, but it was late and I didn't get a response. She was already in bed, I knew that. But I had reached bottom and didn't know who else to turn to.

I eventually calmed myself down, and laid in bed, careful to not lay on my fresh wounds. And I contemplated running away. Really running away. What it would take to make a new life. Change my name, my past, my future. But I know I still be haunted by everything I left behind. No matter how far I ran. And of course we can't know for sure what happens to us on the other side.

So I came back early. Besides being bored with no TV or computer, I couldn't stand to be alone with my thoughts for another night.

So, this is me. This is a very real part of me. Not so pretty, is it...


Tiggr said...


I've been where you are and the best advice I can offer via cyberspace is to just stop... stop running, stop thinking... let yourself feel but do it safely, amiong friends. And don't believe yourself right now... at this moment, in this mindset, you aren't trsutworthy right now, and that's OK. It WILL change. Things will get better. You WILL grow stronger.

Feel free to drop me an email if you need anything at all... just someone to chat with. I still have the visible scars of that pain that threatened to swallow me, and very nearly did. But I am better now and although those urges will always be there for me, the urge NOT to is stronger still.

Please take my hand... I won't let you go, I promise!

Hugs,big ones!
A Spanking Good Time

rose said...

not ugly, just real. i've been on the difficult side of depression myself before. if you need an ear, you know where to find me.


Chris said...


I'm so sorry. I think we've all been there. Depression isn't anything to be ashamed of and what a brave young woman you are to be so open about it. That, in itself, says a lot about you. Remember you are right here, in this moment, and that's all that matters. In the grand scheme of things anyway.

And art? Well I firmly believe it only has to make sense to you.

You're a strong, beautiful, intelligent human being who, no doubt, makes the world a far brighter place.

Lizzie said...

Oh, Avah, I too have been there. I know what its like to feel like theres nothing to hold on to, to watch yourself slip away. Its so hard to want to feel nothing and everything all at once. Tiggr is right, you really have to just stop everything spinning around in your head and slowly sink into feeling, seeing, and holding onto what's real, what's now.. I only know of you through this blog, but what I have been priveleged to glimpse is a wonderful, sweet, caring, funny young woman. You WILL get through this- just trust the strength you cant see or feel just yet.

Lots of hugs,

George said...

Avah .. just somebody else to let you not that I have been there as well, most of this year. You will survive and regain yourself. Don't stay alone whatever you do, you need support and comfort ... you need to talk ... you are already journaling in your blog ... focus on writing to make yourself better, throw away the sex and concentrate on writing to make yourself well. I did and it helped immensely. You are very vulnerable to your own twisted thoughts right now ... You have several offers of help in these comments ... add me to the list and use one of us if you need an ear ... we all understand where you are.



Anonymous said...

You know yourself well enough that you recognize when you're in pain and you've hit bottom. Isn't it time to perhaps seek some medication that might help you cope with this?

Jefferson said...

Please call before you cut.

And I can teach you to draw.

Avah said...

Thank you everybody for your such kind comments. Though I've never met any of you (with the obvious exception of Jefferson), I'm so overwhelmed with the sweetness of your words. Thank you, really so much.

(And anonymous, I've tried medications, almost everyone there is to try, and nothing has ever worked.)

Gray Lily said...

I remember being there, in that dorm room, with those roommates, dragging myself out of bed just to go to class. It hurt to be awake, it hurt to eat, it hurt to just be. I still tear up thinking about how much it all hurt.

But it does get better sweetie. I am ten years older and much wiser now and please listen when I say IT DOES GET BETTER. Write your heart out, cry your eyes out, but please know that there are people out here who care about you.

We have never met but you are in my heart. I am on the West Coast and guaranteed to be up later than you if you need someone to talk to. I am completely serious, email me soon and I will send you my phone number.

No one deserves to go through this alone, and you are not alone. Not as long as all of us kinky, crazy sex bloggers are out here holding each other together.

Hugs & kisses,


Summer said...

HI. You don't know me, and I'm probably not going to stand out much from the other folks who are saying pretty much the same thing, but: I've been where you are, I know how much it sucks, and I promise you that someday you'll look back on it and... well, you won't laugh, but at least you'll be looking back on it.

For what it's worth, I didn't think meds would help me, but I finally found a combination that did. Between taking my pills like a good little girl (hey, gotta have a sense of humor about it...) and checking in with my therapist regularly, I seem to be managing it as well as I possibly can. New kinds of antidepressants are hitting the market pretty regularly - there may be something out there now that would help you.

And here's the part with the cliches. Hang in there, even if it's just by the very tips of your fingers. Keep writing and talking and creating, because even if they don't immediately help you process what's going on, they do give you something else to focus on for a few moments.

This, too, shall pass. The road out may take you on the scenic route through the back roads of hell, but it will pass. Time progresses, and that's one of the few certainties in life.


Lexi said...

Something that worked for me quite well was sitting by myself and thinking through my thoughts. I know it sounds like a recipe for disaster, but this is what I did:

I took a thought, singled it out, acknowledged whether it was happy, sad, painful, etc., and accepted it. Then, and this is very important, I let the thought go. I pictured it floating from my head and moved to the next thought - how does this thought make me feel?

Each thought gets the same amount of time and energy, even the happy thoughts. They are all sent out to space because they are just thoughts. After a while, your head becomes calm and the world feels lighter.