Mood Report: Depressed

I want to say something good, even thought provoking.

The truth is that for a couple months I felt pretty good. A functioning college student. Focused, determined, ready to take on the world. My only issue was how I was rather plagued with anxiety and took benzos nearly daily (well, I still take klonopin daily, it really helps).

And then it started happening. At night time I’d slowly descend into feeling depressed. But it didn’t last long because I’d go to sleep. Well it is happening earlier and earlier.

Today I flat out woke up depressed. I don’t have any inspirational thing to say. I feel more like I’m reporting in.

I guess this is where therapy skills come into handy. I found the most useful way to handle most things- depression, wanting to self harm, etc.- is by distracting yourself. Keeping your mind occupied doesn’t give time to focus on the depression. So I’m going to go play some video games.

I will admit, that maybe I am depressed partially for a real reason. I disappointed myself this summer. I was going to volunteer, and immediately went to the meeting and received the paperwork and turned in my references. But then I lagged, I didn’t finish the paperwork and call in for my training. I didn’t do anything, I finally got my TB test (required) done so that’s a bonus. I just got distracted for a month, by someone who was unhealthy for me and took up so much of my time. I regret not getting the hours in but also because it was going to be a wonderful way to spend my time, actually helping people. The best part was that there was no minimum hours, no set hours, nothing. You come and go when you please. It is the best volunteer option you can have as a college student. And I haven’t even started. Why? Why??? You know, after I finish this, I am going to finish that paperwork. And I will call that phone number even if its not business hours maybe she will still pick up. I am going to do this.

But the other reason, a lesser one, is that I didn’t start exercising. I told myself I would, but getting sick at the very beginning of summer (excuses) didn’t help. I kept pushing it off, “well I’m still recovering from my sinus infection!” Well that ended over a month ago, what’s stopping me now? Nothing.

I’ve also been trying to gain weight. I never got it back from my manic episode over winter. I finally gained 3 pounds (which is a lot for me). But now I am worried because I just bought a swimsuit that is rather attractive but won’t fit if I gain weight. So now if I gain weight, which I need to do, I just lost money.

Ah, anyway, I am going to grab that volunteer paperwork, RIGHT NOW, and go fill it out.

I know that making progress towards volunteering will cheer me up. Even if I regret immensely not starting this sooner. At least my fall quarter has two online classes, so I have ample time to spend volunteering.

Also, note to self: Stop drinking alcohol. It doesn’t make the depression better, at all.

-Quinn

Should I Have Intervened?

My first year of college I was taking a math class. I noticed a boy who sat in my front of me had friends he would laugh and talk with. And one day I got a glance, it just caught my eye, of some cuts on his wrist. He found ways to hide them, but every now and again I’d see a glimmer of them.

And I wondered for weeks if I should say something.

I considered going up to him, pulling my sleeve up and say, “I do it too.”

I thought about how I wouldn’t want anyone to call me out on it if they saw my own.

I thought about how hard he tried to hide it and so I should respect that.

I thought about whether intervening was something I should do for his safety.

But I was in the middle of my own battle with self injury.

And I never did anything.

And I can never get it out of mind…

I never did or say anything to him.

Should I have?

-Quinn

The Night of The Cut *Graphic Self Harm Trigger Warning*

******TRIGGER WARNING: Anorexia somewhat and EXTREMELY GRAPHIC SELF HARM******

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED BY SELF HARM ESPECIALLY IN GRAPHIC DETAIL.

You have been warned.

This is probably the single most important story in my life. It led to a cascade of events: hospitalization, my correct diagnosis of bipolar, getting kicked out of school, and finally getting the real help I needed.

It was 6am when I finally asked my ex-boyfriend for my knife back. We aren’t on speaking terms and we are clear that we can never be. We’re either together or not. And together is awful, dangerous, addicting, full of love, full of hate.

Today I see him to get it back, so I stress out about it of course. I overthink what I will wear. I felt the need to show him how much my appearance has changed, how much have changed. Both of which are major improvements.

Should I go laid back in my cute dorm-room college girl get up all from Victoria’s Secret? Or should I go with my traditional assemble which people describe as “edgy” because its boots and leather jackets and what not?
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Unseen Contributor to Teen Mental Illness?

It has been bothering me for a few years now. The surge in young teens who seem absorbed in mental illness.

I first noticed it after I’d had my iphone for a while. Probably over a year after (I was 18 when I got it). I’d been diagnosed when i was 17, and was probably 19 when I noticed. I was on instagram when I got the random desire to see if there were posts about mental illness on there.

And what I saw horrified me.

Kids as young as 12 were posting horrible photos. Typically it was just the cliche depressed quotes over and over again. But there were also photos of other things… there was “thinspiration” where people would post skinny girls who were their “goal” look in terms of thinness. And then there was the pencil test to determine if you really are thin or not, so people posted pictures of those. And pictures of thigh gaps. But I can’t relate to eating disorders, never had one and don’t think I ever will. Then there were ones that flooded my search and were even triggering to me- self harm photos. They were everywhere. I was horrified.
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What is fun?

Here I find myself, papers scattered around- my assignments and my notes. My thoughts feel like they are shuttering, I can’t understand this chapter, I am lost. And I feel scared.

It makes me stop. And I have to ask myself, what’s happened? It has been weeks… endless weeks of nonstop studying. I grew tired of doing research for my essay but the only other thing I could think of doing was another homework assignment (due in over a week).

And now I’m stuck. My brain doesn’t know what to do. I am too burnt out to write the essay but I am stuck on this physics chapter. The Ritalin I’ve been abusing is nagging at me to keep going. But I realize that some part of me is very weary.

The therapist applauds me for my determination, motivation, and hard work. Even when I suggested I might be hypomanic.
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Ran out of meds… and very scared.

So we all know quitting your meds cold turkey is a very bad idea. But sometimes… things happen.

I wasn’t really paying much attention to how many meds I had. I knew I saw my psychiatrist and would get a prescription and then the mail order pharmacy would send it to me (they’re much cheaper- 3 months for the cost of 1- and they’re authentic). However, I ran out early. I called my psychiatrist to have her fax a 1 month prescription to my pharmacy but when I got there they said my insurance had already covered this month through the mail order service. In other words- I’d have to pay out of pocket.

1 pill costs $12. And I take 2 a day.

I called my mom asking how long it’d be before we’d get the pills in the mail. And she said it won’t be for at least a few more days. The service had emailed us saying that the medications were “delayed.” But when I demanded to know what that meant, she simply sent me the email. All the email said was that it was delayed. That was it. No hint as to how delayed, nothing.

I left the pharmacy holding back tears. I guess I was going off my meds for a few days, with no tapering.

When I got home I broke down sobbing. My mom called me back about it and then asked if I was crying, when I said yes because “you don’t know what this is going to be like” she yelled at me saying I shouldn’t put this stuff off for so long.

She later apologized.

And yes I am terrified. When I forgot my pills one night I almost killed myself. Although when I found out I felt that way only because I forgot my pills, I cried with relief.

I take 2 anti-psychotics. Luckily this is less important one. My main one keeps a lot of symptoms under control- mania, anxiety, etc. This one just keeps me from being depressed. It actually made me feel like a normal type of stable. Generally I was in a good mood, instead of my normal slightly-down mood.

I am scared of having to endure the next few days until I get the medicine. We are going to call the service tomorrow and ask them to expedite it, it costs money but it is literally less than paying for one days worth of the medication.

I will survive. But it will be hell.

And I am scared.

-Quinn

Self Control

Hello all, this is drunk Quinn. But don’t discount me now- I have some things to say and being drunk shouldn’t turn you away. I want to explain myself, my drug use and bipolarity. Specifically I want to discuss self control.

There are two opposing parts of me. It is slightly difficult to explain. I am both very in control of myself and very out of control. I am incredibly impulsive, I can’t stop myself in many situations, but if there is one thing I cannot stress enough is that I know exactly what is happening and the consequences of it.

Tonight I went out drinking with my friends. I was essentially a “third wheel” but this is my little group of friends- just the three of us. I don’t have any friends I hang out regularly with until I met them. I talk to a few people but we never hang out. These friends I actually hang out with. And tonight, we went drinking at this pub.

I had been there before. I had to drive and I had class early the next morning. I figured just one drink would be fine. I was wrong. After they closed I had to sit in my car for quite a while until I was “safe” to drive. I had one drink, a Mai Tai, and I was gone. It is rare that I get that drunk. I learned though. That drink at that pub will do a number on me.
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Focus

I wake up and throw myself into rants about how I am irritated with a multitude of issues in my life that are all intersecting to make my day frustrating and uncertain.

After ranting for two hours to various people, I start studying. I am fixated trying to complete problem after problem with undying devotion. When I get stuck I force myself to turn my attention to what is more important- the assignments due tomorrow.

What should have been a half hour at best of work, turns into what feels like over an hour. I write an abstract for my lab report and spend an immense amount of time editing it until it is “perfect.”
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How Far Would You Go?

We are quick to judge someone who abuses drugs. But shouldn’t we evaluate what led them to use such methods in the first place?

The first time I smoked weed was because I felt depressed and wanted to feel anything else. I didn’t know I was in a depressive episode at that time.

I no longer use it, I actually rather despise the substance.

But it is not the only drug.

I want to feel guilty about abusing my psychiatrist’s trust but I am not the type to feel much remorse.

The powder can work better than the whole. Your nose may ache and the initial rush is so heavy you feel like your heart will explode out of your chest. But I found if you balance the drug with another… then you can excel.

In a way, it is typical cliche college student. They say a ridiculous amount of college students abuse stimulants but I’m not sure of how accurate that is. I have yet to meet any who do but then again- I don’t have many friends and I’m sure it is not something most will announce to the world.

It is not something I do that often, at least not anymore. It is something I do when I’m desperate. I felt so stressed out that I couldn’t function- I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t get started- and the seconds were ticking away.

The pressure to never fail. Not a single class. You want to go to grad school, don’t you? You want to be a success, you want this career because for some reason you have equated it to happiness.

You’d do an awful lot to get this, wouldn’t you?

There are some who would go further than I am. Sabotage their peers even. I am not so devious.

Shouldn’t I feel bad that I have to use these methods at times? I should but I don’t. Like I said earlier, I’m not the type to feel guilt. Would I feel more accomplished if I did it the “right” way? Eh. Maybe. But I’d probably see no real difference. Either way I got the work done- that’s what matters, right?

I’m driven to these methods by expectations. Expectations that were put on me by family and by myself. Ever since I was little it was like my whole life revolved around my future career. Was it my fault? I don’t know. My siblings are all older than me by quite a bit. When I was old enough to start having a good concept of the future, my siblings were all determining what they wanted to do in this world. It made me ask myself the same question. And for as long as I can remember I have had a career goal. I revolve my life around it. But I don’t want to. I want to be happy and have fun.

So I come to be between a rock and a hard place. I can either spread out the time spent studying by not going out drinking or I can get it done in one night by working excessively (and perhaps with a little help) and go drinking.

I’ve done this to myself. I feel trapped in a world where career is everything. But to get to career, I have to get through college. And let me be honest- I hate college. Or at least, I hate the pressure. The deadlines, the high marks, everything. I wish I could learn in an enjoyable way. But let’s face it, I hate my major. I love my minor. Both are useless unless I can get into grad school. I’ve given up on med school, which is what I have completely devoted my college classes towards and it is too late to go back. I am shifting my goal but it doesn’t exactly align with what I’ve done.

What a mess.

Stability… does that word even truly apply to me, ever? You would think so. But I don’t think so. I am always a little up or down. Always have some unhealthy addiction. Am always a little self destructive.

Tonight I used unethical means to get some school work done.

But will you judge me before you even consider what made me want to?

Don’t call me lazy. But if you want… you can call me desperate.

-Quinn