I never really know how to start these letters. Once I start though it almost seems as if they are writing themselves. The words just pour out of my mind. Almost as if I'm discovering them...
The more people I tell about my blog in my personal life the more reservations I have when it comes to writing the explicit and most intimate secrets of my life. For the sake of the common reader who doesn't know who I am though in real life, I will be keeping with my original vulgarity and grittiness.
I'm taking antidepressants.
I told my parents I'm bisexual.
A week or two ago (I honestly can't seem to remember. Time moves so slowly in this repugnant snowy world) I told my mother how I felt. I told her about how I felt there was no meaning to anything. How everything is pointless. She took me to see our family doctor where I told someone I've know my whole life about my sexuality. He was the first person I've known my entire life that responded positively, telling me that he completely believes that people are born this way. He told me that there are Lutheran churches that accept gay people, and that Paul was an ass. This made me feel very good. Paul was an ass. That made me laugh. He thought that I was depressed and put me on anti depressants. A few days later I went to see a counselor. I felt like the counselor and I didn't really connect at all. He seemed so formal about his work. Like he was trying to counsel me too much that he couldn't actually care about what I was saying. We talked about all sorts of things ranging from one of my friend's suicide to my sexuality questions. In the end after talking for an hour he told me that he thinks "I need to find myself." Whatever that means. I get what he was saying kind of, but I could of gotten that from a fortune cookie. I mean come on guy! Give me some deeper meaning. I don't really know what I expected, but he wasn't it. I think what set me off most was when I was talking how religions condemn homosexuality I said "I don't know what religion you are or if you have one" hoping to get some response out of him, but this grimace just flashed across his face that he quickly concealed. The rest of the time meeting with him I didn't really feel comfortable, because for a split second I saw disgust or something in him. It made him untrustworthy maybe? I just couldn't get that grimace out of my mind. I left the meeting feeling worse than when I had come in. I didn't get any solution to my problem. I felt as if this counselor was my last hope. That maybe I could have scheduled visits there where I could go and he would tell me all the answers to all my problems ever. Stopping at the elevator on the way out my mother asked me if I thought it'd helped. I was holding back tears in my eyes. I told her no. So its been a week or something since then and I'm on anti depressants. I've been taking 10mg of some generic anti depressant. So far, I haven't felt any change really. Maybe there has been one and I just don't notice. My biggest problem though is that the waves of depression still crash down on me sometimes at night. There are times when I am just overcome with this darkness that paralyzes me. It just crushes me. I feel like there is no purpose to anything, and sadness is all there will ever be. These spells just come at random times. The darkness usually brings them about. I can be in the happiest place, but the walls still come closing in. Its like that scene in star wars when the walls are closing in and they are going to be crushed. I can't push against the wall. I took 15mg the other day as the doctor ordered. That must be what it feels like to be high or something like that. I was not there mentally at all. I couldn't think straight. All I could do is look off into oblivion. It was horrible. 5 people asked me whats wrong before lunch. While I didn't like everyone asking me whats wrong, looking back I did enjoy the numbness.
The other night in one of my depression spells, I thought it would be best to pen some song lyrics from Spring Awakening into my arm. I promised my doctor that I won't hurt myself. I keep promises. He asked me if I ever wanted to hurt myself. I said no, but honestly, I wouldn't mind a cut or two in my darkest attacks. Regardless, I keep my promises to people that matter. My dad came downstairs where I had my headphones on playing Those You've Known (which by the way if you're looking for a depressing song this is your song) from the Spring Awakening soundtrack. I was scrawling the words into my arm fairly vigorously. He asked me what was up, but I ignored him. I finished writing the words, and I was about to go upstairs when he asked me what's up? I could see the look in his eyes. His heart was breaking. He just wanted to know I was okay. I told him a wave of depression just came crashing down. Long story short there were some tears and stuff and he told me he loved me no matter what and that he was still sad from his dad dieing and that his fathers death still crashed down on him sometimes. During the exchange he said "You aren't the only one being affected by this depression." That is when I decided that I would tell my parents about my sexuality. I was hoping that my sexuality would be the root of my problem, and when I told them all the sadness would go away. I wrote them a letter and emailed it to them that friday night when I was at work. It was very difficult, because I was pretty sure my father was going to try to convert me to heterosexuality (I'm think of myself as Bisexual). He didn't though. My mother texted me that they thought this for a while and they love me unconditionally. The depression hasn't gone away though. We haven't talked about it in person, and I'm pretty sure my dad isn't completely sure how he feels.
I've come to conclude that if God didn't want me to be this way he would have taken away this from me. I asked. Trust me.
I feel a wave of darkness coming. I better go.
-The stars too. They tell of spring returning.-