Put the past behind you. ♥It still hurts me inside knowing my mother felt like I was a disappointment at some point in my life. When I was younger, I had to be the perfect child. Mainly because my older sister suffered from depression, alcoholism, and drug addiction my whole childhood. I could not be like her. I HAD to be perfect. Every time I looked in my mothers eyes that's all I could sense. When high school came around it was still the same. I needed to do everything better than my older sister...go to college, get amazing grades, have tons of friends, be with my family a lot, not have a different opinion than my mother, don't make stupid mistakes. After a while, being perfect was too exhausting.
College was perfect in the beginning. I made a ton of friends, including going to school with one of my best friends from high school. It was everything I imagined. The second year seemed to go downhill for me. I feel like this is where I should have gotten help with my depression. I had mini meltdowns on a regular basis. My best friend in college was starting to bother me. I ended up moving out of the dorm I was living in to live by myself. I had no friends. My routine was go to class, eat lunch, go to class, eat dinner, talk to my boyfriend, and go to bed. Homework was no issue for at the this time because I had all this free time to waste. By the end of my second year, I could barely stand going to classes. The anxiety and low moments were making it impossible to enjoy classes. I would sit in class and drift off into a whole different world most of the time. Sometimes I had to lie to Mark about having friends at school because I knew it would eat him alive. Wednesdays were my favorite day of the week (besides the weekends of course.) Mark would come visit me for the night. It helped break up the week. It was exactly what I needed.
I never really had to deal with feeling unwanted in high school by my peers. I had a close group of friends. It seemed too perfect most of the time. I remember driving back from an internship with one of my roommates I had during my Freshmen year of college. I was trying so hard to keep the tears back, but I couldn't. One simple text message saying, "We are not rooming with you next year because we were invited into another dorm" killed me. What did I do wrong? Was I that unbearable to be with? After that moment, I really wanted to drop everything and go home. I was tired of being there. Tired of always trying my best to please everyone. Eventually I decided to just commute to school because at the end of the day, I needed to be with someone who cared for me. That person was Mark. I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Education and thought life was just awesome after graduation...sort of! I was no excited about graduating. Being around tons of people I barely had a connection with bothered me. I put a smile on my face for my family and walked across that stage. I am proud of myself a little. School was always easy for me, so it did not feel like a huge accomplishment.
By the end of this summer, I knew something was not clicking for me. There were times where I did not know why I was crying. Some mornings were hard to get out of bed. I had to call out of work once or twice. Mark would ask me what is wrong and I would just shrug my shoulders. I finally gathered up the courage to go see a doctor about all this depression and anxiety I had been experiencing for years. The support I received from Mark was incredible. If it was not for him, I'd still have this grey cloud hanging over my head on a regular basis. My doctor is also amazing. I'm extremely pleased with that.
It took me a couple of weeks to tell my mother about what was going on. When I had my mental break down, I told her a little bit about what was going on. She did not believe me. She thought I was making excuses for everything and told me I was a disappointment. What it comes down to, she does not accept that I'm on medicine. She thinks I'm not that bad. The things she said to me bothered the crap out of me. How can a parent not be supportive of their child? I was not doing this for attention. I told Mark about the conversation. He asked me if I felt better. I feel a ton better. I actually feel like a person that can function in the real world now. He said something to me after that made everything fall into place, "it doesn't matter what she thinks then." Even though she is my mother, it really does not matter what she thinks. If I feel better, then great! It's my body and mind, not hers.
2O13 has ended and I think it ended on a great note. I was able to spend the night with Mark and my best friends. I'm feeling better mentally and physically and not feeling guilty about anything I do for myself. I'm an adult now. I make my own decisions without having anxiety from my mother. I'm not going to dwell on the negative in my past. What happened, happened. I have no control over it now.
Here's a great start to 2O14.
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