Today has been going OK. Not great, not terrible. I have my frequent moments of despair, but in between there are rare moments of hope for the future. Today I promised to myself that I would allow myself to make mistakes and not beat myself up over everything. Monday night I was on a depression support forum on Reddit.com online just looking to vent to someone anonymously, and I had a very long conversation with a person that really helped me. At one side of the spectrum, he told me the brutal truth and it hurt to hear it, but I was glad he did. Because I didn't know him, there was no bias. He told me his opinion and that was it, and he was right. All the things he said were true. I thought a lot about what he said to me, and I've come to a conclusion. It's not the end of the world if I don't do so hot on an assignment or test as long as I try. It doesn't matter if I make a mistake with something or someone, I can't change what I've done. I made progress today with accepting myself. I allowed myself to make mistakes and I allowed myself to be imperfect. That's all well and good, but every time I try to do this I reach harsh criticism from my teachers, parents, and peers. My art teacher today was lecturing me for not wanting to continue any longer on a pastel painting that I had spent over 20 hours doing. I was happy with the way it looked, and I wanted to move on to something else. Yeah, I was aware that it wasn't incredibly detailed but I'm just not that great with pastels. I tend to smudge them by accident. I tried to not let it get to me but when I am doing something I love, and someone criticizes it, I get hurt really easily. I am so thankful that this person talked to me in my time of need. It brightened my day and gave me the strength and the courage to face the world when I woke up the next morning.
My orchestra teacher is apparently very worried about me. He overheard a conversation I had with a friend in the hallway about not sleeping at night and being sad all the time. When I had my bout of depression last year I had told him about it so he didn't harp on me so much, but this time I left him in the dark. Subconsciously I didn't want to admit a "failure" on my part. He used to be so proud of me for getting over my depression without medication, and here I am, part of the Prozac nation. I wish I didn't need to take it but I really didn't have another choice. I've only taken it two days so far so it is completely impossible to see if it is helping. I sure hope it does, that would make my life so much more tolerable. I wish I could tell my teacher how terrible I have been feeling lately but I'm not really sure how...I don't like to see him worried. He's a teacher, he shouldn't get worried about me, right? There I go again, devaluing myself as a person.
I am still having my depressing thoughts, and my crushing anxiety. I am getting over a massive cold, so I have been tired all the time. I want to feel happy so badly it hurts me. I want to reach out to everyone but no one seems to want to talk to me, really. I have prom on Friday and I am so nervous. I have to be around people and I will probably have to explain to someone why I take prozac if they see me sneaking away to have my meds given to me by one of the teachers. I can't have it on my person I guess. I can see why lol. They don't want kids running around handing out adderal and xanax to all their friends. Well, I am starting to get more depressed, and I don't feel like typing any more. I'm out. Peace.