behind the title

Screenshot 2016-03-31 02.00.33

I referenced this playlist in an older post of mine, and I feel it deserves some explaining.

I’m a strong believer that every playlist someone makes should have a strong name. None of that “chill vibes” or “newish” garbage. That’s lazy and quite frankly insulting to the music you’re cultivating in your playlist.

I deliberately spent hours coming up with the name of (and pictures for) this playlist: “ditch|flux.” Allow me to explain.

One could say that a few months ago I felt as though I was in a “ditch,” and I wanted to get out. Or, “ditch” that feeling, if you will. I wanted to ditch the ditch essentially. “Flux” is this insane word that means, according to Dictionary.com, “A flowing or flow, the flowing in of the tide, and continuous change, passage, or movement.” It also means really different things in science terms, but that’s completely irrelevant as science is the worst. When someone is in flux, and I’m not using the science terms here, it means he or she accepts the ebb and flow of life. This concept – this acceptance of life’s ups and downs – is one of the most attractive things to me at this point in time. Henceforth, I want to ditch the ditch to enter flux, and the songs on this playlist try to help with that goal.

While naming a playlist this in-depthly may be admittedly silly, I think the overall idea of “ditching the ditch to enter flux” is completely important. In order to think positively about the future, I think it’s important for someone to understand that not everything from this point in time is going to be spectacular and better than it is now. That’s definitely not how life works. So, in order to have realistic expectations about the future (and thus not setting yourself up for disappointment), you must understand that life is going to suck at some points later, but that’s okay, because the world ebbs and flows.

The main point of this idea, I guess, is to get yourself out of the ditch. Depression really can feel like a ditch that you can’t get out of, but the first step to climbing out of that ditch is deciding to.

 

behind the title

living & lies

In a previous post, I said, “that was one of the worst nights of my life, but I’ll explain later why it was also one of the best.”

If you haven’t read the post linked above, then I would suggest doing so because otherwise this post will not make much sense.

The night that made me finally realize the extent of my depression was the night I grew immensely as a person. I think as a kid you can pretty much hide behind your parents and let them handle everything, and then it’s super hard to know when you have to face something head-on and deal with it. Not that I spent my childhood hiding behind my mom, and to be honest once I decided I needed help I ran to my mom, but you know what I mean. And if you don’t know what I mean then that’s okay, too, and we’ll just move on.

That night, or rather the morning after that night, was the first time in my life I had to admit to myself that I’d been lying to myself. And not a little white lie, either. Sure, we’ve all lied to ourselves like “yeah, I’ll study tonight,” or “eating this bagel won’t be cheating on my diet,” but I mean I had to really admit to my own self that I was in denial and that I’d been living a lie because I was too scared to face a problem. And ever since that morning after that night, I’ve been a lot more comfortable with failure and not being “okay,” which has helped me immensely. I think it’s really important and also really an overlooked concept to accept when you fail, because if you can’t accept failure, then you won’t learn and you won’t be proud of yourself when you succeed.

That night literally started me on an adventure of self-discovery. Call me cliché and call me stupid, but I understand myself a hell of a lot more than I did before.

living & lies

stories & stings

I’ve been going on about why I made this blog, and while I’m not sure I completely got my point for doing this across, I’m just going to get into it and hopefully things fall into place.

Thanks for going through this with me, and I’m sorry I’m the worst.

I think I want to start off first by talking about my depression, because I think it’s a huge reason why I feel compelled to write about my human experience.

I know a lot of people struggle with depression, and my story isn’t much different, but I know I like hearing other people’s stories because it makes me feel less alone.

So, I was depressed for about a year before I even knew I was, which is completely insane because I live with myself day-in and day-out, everyday, and you’d think I’d be able to freaking realize that I wasn’t myself anymore. But, I couldn’t and I didn’t, and it took me an entire year to come to that realization.

I remember the night I realized how bad I’d gotten. I woke up lying on the floor in my own vomit from drinking myself into who knows what dimension, and I was covered in my own blood with a kitchen knife in my hand.

Let me stop for just a second. Don’t pity me – I’m stronger now because of it and I’m not at all ashamed of the path that’s lead me here. I know it sounds weird, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

I tried to remember what had happened, but the last thing I could remember was sitting at my kitchen table in my apartment with a beer in my hand. Everything else was gone. I’d never been much into drinking before the couple months leading me up to this night, and I think waking up and not remembering if I had even been drinking with anyone was a big wake up call for me.

I slowly stood up and looked at what I had done to myself – my own skin. I had more than a dozen deep gashes ripped through my upper thigh, and carpet was stuck in the blood that had dried after I passed out. I was shaking and cold and pale, and I stumbled into the shower and I just cried for hours. I sobbed, like, ugly cried. It was not cute. I didn’t want to admit to myself or to anyone what a bad place I was in, but the unbearable sting from the shower in my cuts was a brutal reminder, and it made me decide I needed help.

“I had more than a dozen deep gashes ripped through my upper thigh, and carpet was stuck in the blood that had dried after I passed out.”

That night was about six months ago. I went home from school that weekend and told my mom that I thought I was depressed. (I did not, however, tell her any of that story. Especially the alcohol part. She’d kill me.) (She’d also be heartbroken over my self harm.) (Essentially I figured it best to leave out those fun little details.) My mom immediately hated herself for not seeing it, which only made me feel worse. But, that next week we started calling psychiatrists so I could start to get help.

That was one of the worst nights of my life, but I’ll explain later why it was also one of the best.

stories & stings

my “lens”

If you look back in an old post of mine, I say that I’m writing this blog to show my lens through which I see the world. This is a little insight into my lens.

I think everyone sees the world through their own lens. That’s life, right?

Well, I think everyone’s lens is greatly important, and I think the more lenses we can see the world through, the better our life is. This is true, in my opinion, for a few reasons. Firstly because if you can see the world through other people’s eyes, then you’re automatically less of a selfish asshole.

Don’t be a selfish asshole.

Secondly, I think this is important because if you can understand how someone views life, then you can connect with him or her on a really deep level. Seriously, people, human connection is, like, the reason we’re all here! It’s not to make more money than that bitch you hated in high school or to be the CEO of a company that sells rubber nipples or something – it’s to connect with people and communicate with humans. You may not agree with me, but this is the lens through which I see the world. If you disagree with me, then please comment and tell me yours! I want to hear it! Especially if you think our sole purpose on this planet is to run a company that sells rubber nipples because I feel we’d have a lot to talk about.

Anyway. I think a lot of people can relate to my lens, and here’s why:

I’m a 19 year old girl. I have typical “19 year old girl” problems like boys and boys. (I have a lot of problems with boys.)

I’m a college student. I have typical “college student” problems like homework and crying over my GPA.

I have anxiety and depression. I have typical “anxiety and depression” problems like self harm and panic attacks.

I think my life is very similar to a lot of people out there, so maybe people can relate to my stresses and my struggles. And, I think I have an insight that can possibly help those people – not because I’m better than anyone or because I’m any less lost than anyone else, but because I spend a lot of time in my head and my over-thinking everything might help even one person. And maybe people can help me, too.

So, this is my blog and it shows my lens, and maybe it can help you feel like you’re not alone in this world and maybe it can’t, but it’s here and I hope you can relate to it.

my “lens”