I can feel it. I don’t know what to do. I am wanting to do things, like laundry or cleaning anything. I want to help. My husband does everything. He says he doesn’t but he’s a liar.
He does the cleaning around the house, he gets the kids off to school in the morning, he puts them to bed at night, I just make sure they don’t die while he’s at work. My mind is telling me I am useless and I can’t find anything to argue with.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to go down again. I have worked so hard. I joined a choir because I love making music with other formally trained musicians. I joined my church praise team because I wanted to make new music and I’m learning to play the bass for that group because it’s fun to learn something new. I have tried to get out and make friends and be more active.
And here I am. Going down again. Helplessly. So I guess this is an experiment. I am going to see if I can actively work to get out of this, or if I have to wait it out. God, please don’t make me have to wait it out.
Step 1: I am going to do everything in my power to keep going to my obligations, even when I don’t want to, even when I don’t care or I think I am not worth anything to the group.
Step 2: I am going to keep a gratitude journal of at least one thing I have going for me each day.
Step 3: I am going to do my makeup and take selfies of myself that I love every single day. No matter how late it is, I am going to put on my makeup that makes me feel beautiful and take some pics that I love.
Step 4: No matter how bad I feel, I am not going to apologize for what I am going through. I can tell people that I thank them for being patient with me, but I will never apologize.
Who knows if these things will actually help me get out of my downward spiral faster, but if I find that they don’t work or I can’t do them, or if something else works better, I will blog again to show what helps me. Maybe it can help someone else too.
A little backstory: In dealing with my depression, my fatigue has gotten out of this world. It isn’t just that I could sleep all day, it is that I can’t. stay. awake. So I’ve been dealing with this for sometime now and this week, I really wanted to stay awake and be productive. I feel like if I could just stay awake and get shit done, it would help a lot of my depression because I wouldn’t feel so damn worthless. I’ve taken caffeine pills before and I’ve always felt that they weren’t that effective on me, so I didn’t take them very often. Well, on Sunday night, I stayed up to get homework done before the damn 11:59pm deadline, and ended up getting about one hour (possibly) to two hours (at most) of sleep before it was time to get the kids up for school. It was definitely after 3am when I went to bed.
Anyway, on Monday morning I was like, “You know what? Imma stay awake today!” and, determined AF, I took a caffeine pill in the morning after I put my kiddos on the bus. I was going to make sure it worked this time. It was pretty awesome and I was awake at 9am for the first time in forever! So I got a little bit of stuff done and I felt amazing about it.
Then, at about 2pm-ish, I took another caffeine pill because I was crashing and I was thinking to myself, “If I could just stay awake until I get the kids in bed, I can then go to bed at a good time and give myself plenty of time to get plenty of sleep and wake up and stay up tomorrow. You know, get into a good rhythm so I can fix my sleep issues… maybe.” So my son had his therapy and I was starting to get moving for the evening routine: kids home from school, dinner, showers, etc. There’s a lot of shit to do in the evening.
Sometime after my son’s therapy, I took another pill, something like an hour-ish after the second one. I was thinking, “Just stay awake. I know there’s a lot to do but you can do it now that you’ve prepared yourself with another pill. It will kick in and you will be the Wonder Woman you used to be before all this mess went down. Punch depression in its stupid face!”
Well, I made it through the evening like a champ. I was so proud of myself, guys. I could have cried. I couldn’t remember the last time I had stayed awake for the whole of the daylight hours and actually felt awake. Just staying awake made me feel like a normal person again. I felt accomplished. Seriously, I didn’t even do that much that day and I felt so damn good. Usually, when I am awake, I am sitting on the couch, watching T.V., and counting the minutes until my son’s nap time or until my husband gets home so I can sleep some more. Not today. Don’t get me wrong, I was no June Cleaver, but I got shit done.
So, its bedtime and everything calms down. I actually go through my bedtime routine which has become like an “every-once-in-a-while” instead of a routine. My hubby and I both go to bed together (which is a coin toss normally), and I am thinking to myself, “Okay, this is it. Your big chance. You are in bed at 9pm, which is amazing quite frankly. Amazing that you stayed awake until 9pm and amazing that you are making yourself go to sleep so early instead of stay up all night and live the life you want to live during the day, except in the dark, all alone.” I laid there with a podcast called “Sleepy” on and the speaker was reading “Don Quixote” in a low, sleepy voice. I was in actual pajamas, not just my clothes from the day, and I had washed my face and brushed my teeth, which was a pure miracle, so I felt ready for bed.
I’m laying in bed, trying so hard to go to sleep and my husband, champion sleeper that he is, fell asleep almost immediately, and I listened to his snoring for a while but my stomach did everything in its power to be even louder. I tossed and turned and my stomach was in turmoil. It was getting bad. It got so bad that I woke up my hubby and made him get me a trash can, because I was pretty sure it was gonna happen, and I couldn’t move for fear of jump starting it. He sat up with me for a while. I was shaking, but I wasn’t cold. I was exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. In fact, I was afraid to fall asleep. I had hit that point where you drop into sleep a couple of times already that night, but I woke myself up with a terrible falling feeling instead of just letting the drop happen. I’m not sure why, but I was terrified of falling asleep. Like maybe I was scared I wouldn’t wake up. Not to mention, I have always been uneasy about not knowing where my mind goes when I am asleep, thinking that maybe I don’t exist when my mind shuts down and it scares me something terrible, but usually I am able to work my way through it relatively easily. Not tonight.
I sat up with the trash can and the nauseous feeling subsided. Great. If I can just stay sitting up, I won’t throw up. I’m so glad its not like its bedtime and I haven’t had any sleep… oh, riiiiight. I did some flipping through Google, and I realized that the most likely cause of my nausea and other symptoms was a caffeine overdose. I honestly, did not realize that was possible, but looking back, it seems way obvious. I told my husband what I had taken (and why I had taken it, which was important to me that he know that) and told him that if we had to go to the hospital, he needed to get the bottle for me to take with us. For now though, he needed to go back to sleep because he was either going to work tomorrow or staying home to care for our kiddos because I was going to be asleep all day, most likely.
As his snoring filled the room once again, my feelings were starting to calm down, but I was still pretty shaky and unwilling to test laying down to see if my stomach could handle it. I turned on a low light, and worked on my crochet blanket, which was a mistake. I had failed to account for my shaking. I painstakingly made it through one row and then gave up. I got back on my phone and decided to write a blog post while I waited for my body to get itself back under control.
Finally, sometime between 3 and 4am (hours after I had had my little episode), I laid down. My husband’s alarm went off at 4:30. He got up and I asked him to call in to work because I could not care for our son. He was able to call into work, but he had a class at 10am that he needed to be at. So I woke up at about 9am, and in another miracle case, stayed awake. Even after one of the most difficult nights I’ve had in a LONG time! I stayed awake! All day! Guys, I took a shower and everything! I did take it easy that day though, and ended up going to sleep a few minutes after putting my children to bed that evening at 8pm. I had made it!
Again, I turned on my Sleepy podcast, and I drifted off into the first full night’s sleep I have had all week.
I’m okay guys. I did not take too much on purpose (I promise!), but I never want to take another caffeine pill again. It was rough. I am so glad I had my husband with me during my freak out in the middle of the night. He really helped me calm down and talk through some things. Let me just say, lesson learned. Mischief managed.
Have you ever accidentally taken medications wrong? What happened? I would love to hear!
Let me just start by saying I’m glad you are here. I am so happy you are reading this blog post. I have been dealing with a particularly severe bout of depression and I let this blog go for a bit. Thank you for being so patient with me.
But now, I’m feeling the urge to write again and I want to write to you! I don’t often say this about the things I create, but I like this blog. I’m actually pretty proud of it. I had a goal to make money with it by the end of 2019, but you know what? Goal cancelled.
If I do, cool. If I don’t, cool. I like to write and I like connecting with people and there is no reason I should turn this blog into a chore.
My new goal: (Part 1) Make an honest attempt to post once a week… probably toward the end of the week, like Thursday or Friday. (Part 2) Make some connections with people through my blog and get to know them a little bit.
Have you been reading and want to reach out? Go ahead and comment! Introduce yourself! Honestly, I would love to know what your favorite show is and why. I love watching T.V. Mine is Doctor Who because I feel like that show makes a huge point to make the case that every. single. person. is. important. Donna Noble’s storyline is my favorite because I relate so hard.
What about you? Go on! You can do it! Reach out for a little human interaction. It’ll be fun!
Alright kids, listen up. Something I hear all the time from the people around me is the phrase, “I don’t want to be a burden.” When I offer my help because I genuinely want to help, everyone’s initial reaction is to refuse it. I get it. I am the same way. I get that you don’t want to be an obligation that the other person dreads.
But here’s the thing. You are a burden. I am a burden. People are burdens. If you are a human being, you are a burden. A quick search on Google tells me that the definition of burden is a particularly heavy load. What person doesn’t come with their own set of baggage? Name one person who doesn’t have issues. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
People are complex. We are deep. We have flaws. Taking care of anyone is a big deal. When you get an offer of help from someone you suspect actually cares enough to help you, be a burden and speak up. If you aren’t sure whether or not they are just being polite, give them something easy to do and see how they get it done (like bring you a drink from Starbucks or drive you somewhere when you need a lift). If they act annoyed or complain to others, you know not to trust them with any more “help.”
But please, for the sake of all that is good in this world, take up space.
Accept help. Be proud to exist. Acknowledge your issues, because seriously, everyone has them. You deserve to be seen. You deserve to be cared for. You are a lot, but definitely not too much. You are a burden that someone is happy to carry. You are a burden that matters to someone. Sometimes it takes multiple people to carry you, but that happens to everyone at some point in their lives.
And you and I both know you’ll be the one to help carry someone else’s particularly heavy load sometime. When they come back with “but I don’t want to be a burden” assure them that they are a burden you are happy to take on. Maybe tell them about a time when you accepted a lot of help, especially if it was from them.
We need to accept that loving someone else is a big responsibility and a big job, but we do it because we love them. Not because we have to. Letting people care for us is scary and feels wrong, but I swear, it’s okay. Just let go and be a burden.
I fucking hate cooking. I wish I was one of those people like Martha Stewart or The Pioneer Woman, but lets face facts: I am not. I hate that it takes so long to cook food. I want it to be ready now. And I hate that cooking requires so much clean up. Guys, I do not clean up well at all.
Hence, my affinity for freezer aisle foods. Honestly, its not just freezer aisle foods, but any kind of food that comes pre-packaged and ready to go. I thought I would share some of my fav ideas for breakfast and some tips I have learned about preparing them and hopefully, I will get some new ideas from you!
Breakfast Idea #1: I recommend the little packages of sausage biscuits that you microwave. They come in individual packages of two but are sold in large bags with many packs of two inside. Tip: microwave them wrapped up in a paper towel. Napkins are too thin and let out all the moisture, which means the sandwiches will harden like a rock in two seconds. Aluminum foil will keep the sausage biscuits from cooking and you will be stuck with frozen sandwiches. Yuck. The only downside to this breakfast is that you have to eat them sort of quickly because even if you do use paper towels, the sandwiches will still get hard (because you are microwaving bread) and you can’t even bite into them after that.
Breakfast Idea #2: Slim-Fast Shakes. Before you scroll down, I am not being paid by Slim-Fast to promote this. I just like the shakes because they taste alright and you can literally grab one out of the fridge and just go. There are a lot of mornings where I don’t want to eat anything at all, but I know it will be a long time before I will have a chance to eat again. Drinking a shake is a way to kind of trick my mind and body to letting me get some nourishment without feeling sick. Then I am at least able to last until the next snack/meal. Tip: If you have an extra minute, put the shake in a blender with some ice and you get an ice cold summer smoothie.
Breakfast Idea #3: Frozen waffles/French toast sticks. Waffles can be made in the toaster which is easier but the french toast sticks take only 3 or 4 minutes in the oven, but you have to dirty a baking sheet and wait for the oven to heat up, so its up to you. Personally, I think french toast sticks are worth the effort. Tip: Cover the baking sheet in aluminum foil or wax paper. Then when you are done, throw away the foil or paper and rinse off the baking sheet. Boom. Done. Another tip: If you’re like me, you can just eat these plain, but if you want syrup, put some in a little container and tear up your waffle and just dip it in. I like to save the extra syrups I get from fast food restaurants and just use those.
Breakfast Idea #4: Frozen sausage patties on English Muffins. If you want a little more, you can always add cheese and I like to microwave an egg in my one minute egg microwave cooker. Toast your muffins, and you can microwave the sausage too.Tip: When you microwave your sausage, use a napkin. Unfold it once so that you can lay the patty on the napkin and cover the patty with the other half, essentially folding the napkin back up with the sausage in the middle. The napkin will soak up a ton of the grease. Another tip: use an oil spray to really spray down the inside of your microwave egg cooker, even to the point of leaving a puddle of oil inside. Then when you remove your egg after cooking, it will slide right out and will be more likely to stay intact.
Okay so listen up, I eat these kinds of things all the time, not because I’m too busy to make a decent meal, but because I don’t have the energy or see the point in putting forth all that effort just to have to clean everything up again. So I usually eat things that make little mess. And if I’ve got the money, I just go out for breakfast.
But I need new ideas! What is your fav easy-to-make breakfast? Hit me up in the comments and I’ll give it a try!
Guys, I have some really super, awesome, incredible, amazing news…
I am getting a dog! This is an even bigger deal because this is my first pet other than a fish. I have allergies, so I am on meds and my little doggy is hypoallergenic. He is a Teddy Bear puppy which is a mix of Shih Tzu and Bichon Frise (or possibly a Maltese) and he is so amazingly adorable. He turned eight weeks old on Wednesday and on Saturday we are going to go pick him up!
I am excited of course, but I am also a little wary. This is a puppy so it is going to be a lot of work. The good news is that my husband is going to help me with him, but still, I am the one who is home all day and I will be doing the most caring for the puppy. I am nervous because I literally do not know anything about caring for animals. This is all brand new. I have been reading over the instructions from the breeder intensely to make sure I understand everything that my puppy needs, I have been reading every stupid article and pin on Pinterest I can find about how to train him, how to teach him his name, how to feed him, how to travel with him, how to bathe him, and every other question I have, but still I am scared.
I’m so scared that it will be too much work for me and all of it will fall on my husband. I’m scared my puppy will love my other family members more than me. I’m scared that the puppy will know that I am a loser and that he will have more fun with other people. TL:DR I am scared.
But I am also hoping this little guy can be a bit of therapy for me and my depression. I cannot wait to actually hold him and cuddle with him and play with him! I want to sit with him on the couch and go through the whole list of Gilmore Girls movie references together (in like a million sittings of course). I want to go out with him and walk around my neighborhood and complete my walking workouts. I want to play with him while doing yoga.
Honestly, at this moment, I just want to meet him. He’s in Ohio and I’m in Indiana. All I have is this one picture and I am so impatient to be with him. My husband and I are going on a road trip on Saturday to go pick him up and I am worried that the ride back is going to be too rough for the puppy. I’ve been reading up on how to help with car sickness and how to make the ride as easy as possible for him.
I just want my little puppy to know that he is loved by me and I want him to have a great life with me. I already love him so much and we haven’t even met! It might sound weird, but I am excited because I can talk to him and tell him all my secrets, and I know I’ll never hurt his feelings or worry that he’ll tell someone else. My children will all grow up and leave me and have their own lives, but my puppy won’t.
So here I am, preparing and waiting. Like getting ready to have a baby without the dread of knowing I’m going to have to give birth. It’s actually really freeing. Today might be National Pet Day but I will be celebrating on Saturday!!!
Pictures coming soon!
Do you have a pet that helps you out with your depression? Share pics please! I would love to see your pets!!!
Hi there. So you’re taking classes? Me too! I’m taking college classes but if you’re taking High School classes, you can still benefit from this post. Here’s my situation, and I’m sure I’m not alone.
I’m in the middle of my semester and my grades are terrible. Literally, I have a C and a D. It’s getting difficult to do any of my schoolwork. The reason for my bad grades is because I do not have the willpower to get them done, so I don’t turn them in at all. If your bad grades are because you don’t understand the material, this post isn’t specifically for you.
I keep having these thoughts running through my head.
“Why even bother? You know your grade is fucked anyway.”
“You know your teacher’s won’t make any exceptions for you. You read the syllabus at the beginning of the semester just like everyone else. Why should you get special treatment?”
“This is all your own fault. You deserve these bad grades because you were lazy.”
But here’s the thing, I know that I don’t know if these statements are true. In reality, my grade might not be fucked, especially if I can get the teacher to work with me. Because they might. They just might make exceptions for me. Teachers are humans too, and while they probably have students try to run shit past them all the time, they might recognize the genuine issues I’m dealing with. They might just understand that this is not laziness. I am striving to complete my classes with respectable grades while swimming upstream, if you will. But if I don’t get my ass in gear, I will end with bad grades, like I did last quarter. So here’s my pep talk to myself.
I can do this. I might not end with perfect grades, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t keep working for the best grade I can get. Even if I do fail, the world will not end, but we will cross that bridge if we get to it. Right now, we are still in the middle of our journey and things are looking grim, so here’s what you are going to do. You are going to get in contact with your professors/teachers either in person or by email. If you feel comfortable, share your mental issues with your teacher(s) and discuss what can be done to get your grade up. Take responsibility for your unfinished assignments and apologize. Don’t make up any other excuses. Dealing with depression is enough and you don’t need to feel like it’s a cheap excuse. It’s not. If you don’t want to disclose that information, just tell your teacher(s) that you have been dealing with a medical issue which has kept you from finishing your work. If your teacher wants more information, you do not have to tell them. If your teacher thinks you’re making it up, so what? You know you’re not, and if they will not make allowances for you, then we will figure out what to do to cross “Failed Class” Bridge. You don’t owe them any personal information. You wouldn’t feel so bad if you weren’t finishing assignments because you were dealing with chemotherapy, and in the same way, you shouldn’t feel too bad about unfinished assignments due to depression, a condition of the mind, which is part of the body (a.k.a. a real medical issue).
Take your assignments one at a time. Give yourself lots of breaks and plenty of time. By working on your homework, you are being a great student, no matter what your grade is. Make a plan to get through all your assignments. Set alarms if you have to. Give yourself rewards. Make your checkpoints easy to hit. Success begets success. Make sure you take time to notice what you have accomplished, but don’t forget to move on to the next assignment.
When you get to the end of the semester, know that you have done everything you could to get a good grade and go ahead and give yourself a reward for finishing the semester, which is a feat in and of itself, no matter your grade.
Remember, this too will pass. Life will go on. You will recover. This is not as big of a deal as it seems to be at this moment. Bad grades do not equal low self worth. Good grades don’t increase your worth either. They are simply an indicator of if you learned and understood the material taught to you.
Your self worth is not tied to your grades, study habits, comments on your work from your teachers, I.Q., or any other subject dealing with school. You are priceless because you are human and all humans are loved by Jesus. There is nothing you could do to make Him stop loving you. Nothing. You’ve got this and He’s got you.
Are you having a hard time getting through school? I’m here. Tell me about it in the comments or email me if its too personal to put here.
*For the first time in foreverrrrrrrr* I had a good day! I did not get the things done that I had on my checklist, but I did get a ton of stuff done. I got tons of laundry done (we are still washing all the stuff in the house because of a lice incident), and I got a lot of it put away. There was a mountain of clean laundry on my bed and since my sheets got lost in the mountain of dirty laundry, I had just been piling clean clothes on my bed and sleeping on my couch. My back is still admonishing me for that. But all the laundry on my bed has been put away and I found my bedding and washed it. So finally, my bed is made and pretty, although I’m missing my king sized pillows still. I have one wimpy pillow. Oh well.
I cleaned up the wreck of a living room, ironed four shirts (I haven’t ironed in years, and that’s not an exaggeration), did some more laundry, and cleaned up my bedroom (which is where everything gets dumped when people show up last minute and I have to make my house look clean). Oh, and I cleaned out my closet by taking all the stuff I didn’t want and putting it in the garage to deal with later. I got a lot done!
My first attempt at getting over the fact that I didn’t finish everything
You might notice, however, that I did not get a blog post out yesterday, and I did not get any of my homework done. So it’s a little bittersweet. I got important stuff done and left important stuff undone. It was extremely hard to get over that last fact.
When my husband came home, I hadn’t packed the kids’ bags for a sleepover at the grandparents’ house, in fact, I couldn’t even find clothes for two out of my three kids (lice remember? everything had been bagged up and taken downstairs). In the process of cleaning, I made everything much worse so the place looked terrible and I was hoping to have a lot more done before hubby came home. He walked in the door and I cried. Bless him, he didn’t get frustrated with me. I told him I didn’t want to go to band practice tonight, and he was very gracious and didn’t make me feel guilty for canceling. He told me that instead of having the kids sleep over, he was just going to have Mamaw watch them for the few hours he was going to be gone tonight and then he would bring them home, meaning I didn’t have to find extra clothes to pack.
He got everyone out of the house and I got to be all by myself. I listened to music for quite a while, watched some Bob’s Burgers and then I decided I wanted my house to be cozy, so I picked up my cleaning from where I left off. He came home later with the kids and two Dr. Peppers (one for tonight and one for tomorrow) to find two of the rooms in our house very presentable.
Today, my hubby was my happy place. He took me there and I am so grateful for him and his patience. Even though he can’t always help me, he always tries. It’s why I love him. It’s why today turned out to be a good day.
Do you ever have issues celebrating your successes because you didn’t get things done exactly how you wanted? Can you get to a place where that doesn’t happen anymore? Tell me how you cope in the comments! I need advice!
I was terrified, both about opening up to someone I don’t know and about figuring out how to pay for it. My insurance doesn’t cover all of the cost and we don’t have extra money. But I went anyway.
I drove my car in an unknown area to a place I had not been before and I got lost. It was 45 minutes away, but it was important to me that my therapist was a woman and that it wouldn’t be likely that I would ever need to interact with her outside of therapy. At one point my phone said I had arrived at the office, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. So since I was downtown, I parked and got out to walk around. This is what scared me most all night. I was terrified of someone trying to hurt me as I walked around with no clue where my destination was. I ended up calling my therapist and I was going to cancel since I was already scared out of my wits, but she told me how to find the office and she told me she would stand outside and look for me (which was super nice seeing as it was like 4 degrees outside). I ended up making it to therapy and I am pretty proud that I got there at all.
I chose a woman as my therapist and she was actually really calming and understanding. My first visit was basically taking stock of who I am. She asked all about my background (who my parents are, are they married or divorced, am I married, etc.) and she did get specific about some areas of my past. I found that going over that stuff was helpful for me as well because there are areas of my past that were cloudy or confusing because I had never taken the time to think about them. I could also see areas where some of the events of my past are affecting me today, but I didn’t see them until I sat down to tell a stranger all about myself.
We did go over the reason I sought help in the first place and we talked a bit about that. She said that she would like to see me every other week, but I can’t afford that so we will try to do it every month. I hope that I can figure out a way to see her every other week though.
I am really happy that I finally started therapy and it is showing in my life. I am having more good days and I am more productive. Just getting that stuff out to someone without having to worry about hurting them was an amazing feeling. I don’t really have friends that I can just talk to about all the super personal things in my life so my husband is my only sounding board. He is my best friend and I love him and being with him, but it’s difficult to discuss things with him without being a jerk. You know? Like just because I have a feeling, doesn’t mean it actually means anything but I need someone to hear it and understand it. He would hear it and take it personally and then try to solve the problem because he always wants me to have the best. He really is a fantastic husband.
He has a hard time understanding that just because I tell him about my issues doesn’t mean I want him to fix them. I just want someone to stay on solid ground so I can sink down in the sand as I tell him about my troubles. Then when I’m done, he can pull me back up with him and we can move on with our lives. If I talk to someone who is also on sinking sand, we both end up sinking and then we are stuck in this sadness/anger for a long time until we can eventually climb out ourselves.
That’s what it felt like to talk to a therapist. I got real and blunt, but she is impartial so she was on solid ground. After crying my eyes out, we ended the session and I was able to easily stop and get back to the business of getting home. Therapy worked because there was a limit to our time, so issues couldn’t be dragged out all night like they can at home, and she wasn’t upset with me or sad about what I said so I didn’t feel guilty. I knew I could tell her anything because I didn’t have to worry about it getting out to anyone. So I let it all out, had no guilt about it, and I moved on.
I know that its hard to get yourself into therapy, especially if you don’t have money. I have spent years telling myself that I wanted to do this but it took some serious issues to get my butt into gear and get the ball rolling. There will probably come a time when she won’t be able to see me anymore because I can’t pay, but I’ll take the therapy I can get and cross that bridge when I come to it. I can say that therapy is a good idea for anyone because everyone needs that impartial person to vent to. If you have been wanting to do it, do what you can to get there. You deserve it and you will benefit greatly. I wish I had done it earlier. Honestly, I wish I had started therapy in college (a.k.a. 11ish years ago). If you can do it now, do it now, even if you think you don’t need it. It will help so much.
Have you been in therapy before? Any long time therapy experts out there? What has therapy done for you? What do you love most about going to therapy? Or maybe you hate it? Tell me why in the comments!
As part of my 31-day blog challenge, one of the challenges is to explain the name of my blog.
I am in love with reading. I thoroughly enjoy traveling through other worlds by reading amazing books, and even watching T.V. and movies. I feel a great kinship with so many characters, one of the strongest with Anne of Green Gables. She goes through so much as an orphan and she develops this way of coping with her situation by escaping through books and imagining friends. She has the ability to take her situation and completely change it in her mind so that she is in a whole different world that intrigues and delights her. It usually contains this dashing suitor and a tragic romance. This coping mechanism keeps her going when she deals with prejudice, abuse, and just horrible mistreatment and harassment from adults who should be caring for her.
When Anne finally catches a break, she is chosen to be sent to Prince Edward Island to fulfill a request for a little girl to adopt. On the island, she meets Matthew and Marilla (the people who requested a child) and they ask her for her name. She replies:
Could you please call me Cordelia?
She explains that she feels her name, Anne, is too plain. She thinks her name is ordinary and very boring. But if Matthew and Marilla could just call her Cordelia, she could imagine she was the person she wished she could be. She would be exciting and adventurous and beautiful. Of course, Marilla promptly tells her that this is nonsense and that Marilla will call her by her given name. Marilla doesn’t imagine. She lives in reality all the time.
The thing is, I have spent so much time wishing I was someone else. If I could just change this, or if I could fix that, then I would be the perfect person I have always wanted to be. The name of my blog relates to that wish that I make in the “depths of despair” when things are too difficult and I am just disgusted with myself. I just want to be Cordelia. Perfect Cordelia.
My goal for this blog is to provide a place for people who want to be Cordelia. A place to relate to someone. I want to share my experiences from the depths of despair and how I work to get back to a happy place. I hope that my stories and help can inspire someone else to either move forward and keep trying or to get help so that they can do that.
I would really like to hear about some fictional characters that you relate with, from any form of media. Comment below and tell me what they mean to you.