It’s kind of a funny story… (a review of sorts)

When did my blog become a book review blog?

Well, I guess when I ran out of time to do much except read, work, and sleep.

I’m not really writing reviews, y’all. I’m more writing about what I’ve learned from these books or significant things these books are telling me/reminding me of/etc. Plus, I don’t want to give spoilers and in order to get a thorough review, spoilers would happen.

In case the title of this post wasn’t a clear indicator, I just finished Ned Vizzini’s “It’s kind of a funny story.” The book, as a whole, was amazing. I enjoyed his writing style and it was a pretty quick read. I started it a little over a week ago and probably would have finished it earlier if I didn’t spend most of April 13-17 in the middle of a panic attack from hell.

Which leads me to the point I’m trying to make with today’s post.

It’s very hard to write about depression in a way that is understandable to people who’ve never had it without somehow losing part of the experience. I know this because I’ve tried. It’s even harder to write convincingly about depression if you’ve never experienced it.

Vizzini’s writing speaks volumes about how struggles with the illness. His suicide this past December is a reminder of how that illness often wins.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and depression when I was 14. When I was 17, after three years of the meds basically making it worse, they rescinded the ‘bipolar’ diagnosis and focused on teaching me ways to maintain my depression and anxiety without drugs. I attended weekly (and later biweekly) therapy for 7 years despite no longer being on medication.

I’ve never read a book that actually put into words things I went through during those years. At some point during those years, I was most of the characters in that book. Harming myself to fight against expectations, unable to get out of bed, paranoid of every person I saw, desperate to make it all just stop. 

I found myself crying at the end of the book. Not because someone dies or because the story ended or any other painful reasons but because I felt like a piece of myself was in this book, a piece of myself that I spend a lot of time being ashamed of and hiding away. But it’s still in me and you can’t really lose any part of yourself, despite what you try to tell yourself at night.

If you’ve ever dealt with serious depression or are close to someone who has, read this book. Share this book with that person. It’s the closest you’ll get to understanding what it’s like without having to live through it. Trust me.

30-Day Challenge: Insecurities

12. Insecurities. They’re a thing. Share at least one of yours and way you’ve managed to deal with it.

You guys don’t know me. Hell, I don’t even know me most of the time. But I have a very… particular personality. I hide my insecurities behind humor, self-deprication, and a false ego to an obnoxious degree. I’m kind of a bitch, to be honest.

And I’m not going to use this post to defend myself for having those moments, nor am I going to use it to justify my personality flaws. But I will use this post to explain who I am and how I cope with things.

This is one of the most recent photos of me. It’s from Christmas morning, I was snapchatting friends, and my stepmother caught it on camera.

This is not an attractive photo of me.

I’ve always been big and I’m sure you all know that kids are cruel. I spent most of my formative years being picked on and basically hating myself..

They don’t tell you everything in all of those anti-bullying commercials and seminars and everything else they make kids sit through that never actually work. Trust me, I’ve sat through an hour long ‘bullying is wrong’ lecture with my 4th grade class only to be called ‘beached whale’ and ‘fatso’ as soon as we go out for recess.

What they leave out though is what you’re supposed to do when it’s not your classmates who are treating you like crap for your body at the ripe old age of 7. They don’t tell you how to deal when it’s the people who are supposed to love you, unconditionally. They don’t tell you how to deal with how much your own parent can’t stand to look at you.

30 Day Challenge: What’s the story, morning glory?

5. List 5 things you wish people knew about you without having to explain the, oftentimes lengthy, story behind them.
From: http://www.thesitsgirls.com/blogging/january-writing-prompts/

The worst thing about this prompt is that I came up with the damn thing and now I can’t remember what the five things were that inspired me to suggest it.

(I don’t have a source for the GIF because I saved it FOREVER ago but know that it’s NOT MINE)

Thankfully, I can remember a few so I’m going to try my best to flesh out five of them

1) I dropped out of high school. A lot of people think that’s not a big deal because it’s pretty common, especially for the area in which I grew up, but they don’t know me. Up until my junior year, I was an A/B student, I was in clubs and organizations, I was not the type of student you expect to drop out of high school. But that leads me to number 2.

2) I suffer(ed) from severe depression as a teenager. You’ll find out more details about this on day 12, when I discuss my insecurities, but it’s really only mentioned in passing. I was diagnosed at 14 but by 16, my depression was so debilitating that I rarely got out of bed in the morning, which lead to missing a lot of school and my grades dropping. I was on meds for a while and in therapy for a long time but now, I manage any mood swings without either. I’m actually considered ‘cured’ if there is such a thing as a cure for depression.

3) I only have one biological sibling but, when asked, I say I am 1 of 6 kids. My parents divorced when I was young and both have since remarried. I have an older stepsister, two older stepbrothers, one younger biological sister, and one brother who we call ‘adopted’ but is by no legal means actually related to me but who I have known most of my life and will always refer to as my brother. I may not actually be related to any of those individuals, excluding my sister, but they are my siblings and I will always refer to them as such.

4) I have enough daddy issues to make the Winchesters look normal. These will be elaborated on some more in Day 12 also. The gist of it, though, is I tolerate my dad because of entirely materialistic reasons that include but are not limited to his bank account and the fact that he has much more expendable income that my mother. I don’t live off of his money by any means but when it comes down to needing rent money or textbooks, I have to call him because I have no other choice. Again, more explanation of these daddy issues will come about in Day 12 and possibly others (day 12 is the only other one I’ve already written by this point) so look forward to that drama.

5) I have to have music playing at all times. This is my ‘grasping for air’ choice but it actually does explain a bit about my personality. I’m not sure if it’s a residual thing from therapy and learning to deal with my emotions and just myself over the years but I have to have music at all times. I can’t sleep if there’s not music playing. I can’t drive if I don’t have music playing. I don’t do well with silence. I only mention the sleeping and the driving examples because that’s when it’s most notable but it’s the same walking across campus or riding the bus or even if I’m in the car with other people. When it comes to sleeping/driving, my brain tends to work in overdrive to the point where I won’t sleep at all if I don’t have something else to focus on. I spent most of middle school and high school drugging myself to sleep (with nyquil or tylenol PM) just to shut my brain up. When I drive, music forces me to pay attention. If it’s not playing, I tend to get lost in my own mind and not focus on the road and trust me, I’ve been in enough accidents without needing another hazardous condition. I guess it’s all the same, really. I need the music to get me out of my own head, so I’ll stop nitpicking everything about myself or thinking others are judging me or, even worse, falling back into a depressive state. Sometimes, I honestly think I can better communicate how I’m feeling or how my day has been with a  song rather than stumbling through words. It’s not nearly as traumatic as it sounds but over the years, I’ve learned that some people simply can’t sleep or do homework or whatever if there’s noise so I’ve had to get used to explaining my reasons for needing it.

So there’s some information about me. Have I scared you guys off yet? I hope not.

I’d love to hear some things about y’all that you find yourself having to explain pretty often.