Monday, August 31, 2015

The First Time

Do you remember when you first felt like your world was ending? Do you remember the pain it left you in the pit of your stomach? The pain in your chest of your heart breaking? You thought you were going to run out of tears after this tissue but the tears never stopped? Your mind kept racing trying to figure out why you can't stop crying but then remembering whatever the incident was that turned you into the sobbing mess and just crying even more?

I do. At age 13 I should have been diagnosed with depression but it was before my parents were on the mental disorder bandwagon so I wasn't officially diagnosed until I was 21. I remember being a very emotional child but I didn't have major breakdowns that I remember. Until I was 17. I won't go into too much detail but of course it was over a boy. I was madly in love with this boy and I knew we wouldn't survive going to college and separating but I wanted to try. Silly me thinking he would want that too. I found out in a very public and horrible way that he didn't want that. In fact he wanted someone else and was also dating her. The night I found that out I went batshit crazy. I remember yelling, crying, screaming at the top of my lungs and nothing helped the pain. I cried LOUDLY in my bedroom that night. I couldn't stop crying.

I get flashbacks of this night sometimes and now I feel shame. I feel like an idiot for showing my emotions like that. I feel like a stupid little girl for thinking that what I had in high school could be true love. I think that I was an idiot for caring about someone so much that they could hurt me like that. I am embarrassed for having feelings. I am horrified that people saw me in that state, that people can still remember that happening. I hate that I remember it happening, why would I want anyone else to remember?

I wish I could say that one episode was the only one but I'd be lying. Sometime I'm triggered again. I cry, I scream. I hate myself most of all. Even when I'm not the cause it all comes back to, "Adrienne grow up don't feel this way" or "Why does my brain have to function this way? Why can't I be like someone else and just always find the silver lining?" I end up blaming myself. This sets me down a dark spiral. I get suicidal. Don't freak out. Not extremely suicidal. I've determined I could never actually kill myself because I'm too chicken and I love Boston too much. But when I'm suicidal it's usually a lot of tears and some bad bad googling. (lets just say I know I can't OD on my anti-depressants...wise on the manufacturer's part)

I hate that I feel this way. I hate knowing other people feel this way. I wish there was a magical way to make it go away but I haven't found anything. When it happens I just lay in bed, crying and wishing for a miracle to happen. I wish for my memory to be erased, to wake up in a different life or different body,  I wish for my heart to stop so I don't have to feel the pain anymore. I wish to just sleep and never wake up.

People don't know this is what happens behind closed doors. They don't know what happens in my head. They are shocked by what is really going on in my mind. But I feel like these episodes are more me than the facade that I put on to be a normal functioning member of society.