Why do I keep finding myself here? It’s the same place I always end up. It’s not that I’m depressed. I know what that feels like. But I’m not happy either. I’m somewhere in the middle. It’s almost like I’m empty. I’m drowning while everyone around me is swimming, and I can’t break the surface. I’m right there. I’m so damn close. But I can’t.
It’s not that I’ve never felt this way before. It’s not new to me. It’s just been awhile since I’ve experienced it this way. Every time is different. Sometimes I’m super happy like bubbly, like not myself in anyway. Other times I’m a straight up bitch, without reason. Then there’s the never leave my room or house one.
But this one, this one is the worst of all. At least with the others I’m still able to live my life. It may be more difficult but I still do things. Not now though. Not with this kind. This is the one where I freeze. I’m out cold mentally and emotionally. Physically I’m here but in every other way I’m not.
Let’s go way back. Probably four years ago. If I remember right, it was Christmas 2012. My family always got together on Christmas Eve and hang out all day and night waiting for morning. The older kids who didn’t live in the house would come up and we would just have fun. We’d play games, watch movies, eat, laugh, ect. I remember this vividly because at the time I was worried about 2012 *end of the world*. It had been on my mind for 3 1/2 years prior and Christmas was only a few days away from January 1st, 2012. At the time I didn’t know that the real *end* date was December 21, 2012. So I had no idea that I had another year to worry. I just thought that it was either the first of the year or literally any day after that. I was prepared to spend the ENTIRE year in a state of fear.
Back to Christmas, I remember being in a funk. Same as now. In the beginning of the day I was doing my best to stick with the family and have fun. It wasn’t until things slowed down a little that my mind caught up with me. We were watching a movie when everyone decided to go to the dining room and play a game. So they shut the tv off and went to the other room, expecting me to follow. Obviously, I didn’t. They begged me to come and play– mostly my mom, because she knew exactly what was going through my head, and it killed her that she couldn’t take it away.
I refused to play. So there I was, sitting in silence. I listened to them play for at least an hour before I realized I was still stuck. My entire body felt paralyzed. My mom would come out every once in a while to ask if I wanted to play yet and make sure I was okay. I would say whatever I needed to say in order to get her to leave. Then I would go back to nothingness.
This is a memory that haunts me to this day. It was terrible to ever feel like that. And one of the hardest things for me to grasp is that I felt content sitting in silence with my terrifying thoughts, wishing I could just get the hell up and have fun. What was stopping me?
I never thought I would ever feel that way again. But here I am, at my grandmas 63rd birthday party, sitting in the house listening to my family laugh and talk outside. Watching the way the smiles form across their faces. The way they are genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
Occasionally they yell to me asking me to come out. My mom is still the same, coming in every so often asking if I’m okay, and not believing me when I say I am. Which is understandable.
I can’t help but smile listening to their voices, or seeing the way their eyes light up at the stories being told. I’m grateful for them. I’m grateful for their smiles. But I should be out there too, shouldn’t I? I know I should. I know how much fun I could be having, but instead I’m inside, alone. And for some reason I can’t help but think I made it full circle, depression and anxiety wise. Hell, add OCD to that list as well. Back when I was diagnosed in 2010 I couldn’t grasp the fact that I would have to deal with these things for the rest of my life. What 11 year old would? There I was in elementary school, making myself responsible for adult things. I’ve spent the last seven years growing up way too fast. I know my mind is way beyond my years. I’ve accepted that. But I’m still struggling with things like simple communication. Mostly with people my own age. My beliefs and the way I see the world are so different from theirs. Most of them are worried about dating, and sports, and school, and haven’t even really thought about deeper things. Like the stars, or the hardships of this world, or afterlife, or true love, or mental illness, or cancer, or what goes through people’s heads at 3am, or why we dream and what the meaning behind those dream are. Those are the kinds of things that go through my head 24/7. My mind is going a million miles a second, nonstop.
Sometimes I think that my mind is going to be the thing that kills me. It’s going to be what officially throws me off the deep end. I have the hardest time being in the moment. I can’t really ever just stop. Just take a breath and close my eyes and not have a thing on my mind.
I’ve been in such a dark mood lately. Nothing makes me happy, nothing ever really has though. Writing is the only exception. It brings me peace. But even now, I find it hard to sit down and write because my mind is somewhere else. So actually sitting down and concentrating on one simple thing makes me cower away. It’s almost like I’m afraid of what’s going to come out.
My entire mind and body is in autopilot and I can’t get out of it. I’ve come to a point where I’m not even living. I’m just here. I want so badly to break free and be happy. Be myself. But I can’t. Not here. I can’t explore the things I want to explore here. I know I’m meant for something more than this stupid place. I hate waking up every day just to do the same thing in the same place I’ve bene for almost eighteen years. I need a change. I need an out. I feel like my every move is being watched from the people surrounding me. And they are all just waiting to give their opinions. Some opinions I appreciate. Others, not so much.
I think people have this layout of who they want me to be, or who they think I am. And I’m willing to bet anything that I don’t fit into any of the categories they have lied out for me. I don’t want to run away from this place. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m simply trying to run TOWARDS what feels right for me. I know in my heart that I’m not going to find what’s meant for me here. I need inspiration. I need to explore. I need to travel someplace new and learn everything I can about me and about that place. I want to experience nature. I want to experience new people, new cultures, new opinions, and new places, just new. I’m so ready to be gone, that it’s killing me that I’m stuck here. People don’t realize what it’s doing to me to still be here. That’s why I was so intent on the Army. A way out. A quick escape out of this place. But deep down I know that the Army wasn’t what I was meant to do. I’m meant to write. I’m meant to travel and explore and interact with new things. I’m meant to learn lessons and make mistakes and inspire others. I’m meant to make people think. I’m meant to speak out. But I cannot do that here. I’ve tried, and I’ve succeeded a little bit. But I’ve run out of inspiration. I need more inspiration. I am craving more inspiration. And nothing gives me more inspiration than seeing new places, or talking to someone new, or experiencing nature in a beautiful way. But the place that I’m in now is so boring. It sucks knowing how much beauty there is in this world and I’m stuck here.
Wow. I wrote this almost exactly seven months ago and just came across it. I’m not going to edit it in anyway (even though I know there are multiple mistakes and it’s killing me). But I remember writing this in my phone notes, so I want to keep it raw, and real.
I’m going to respond to this little outburst with what I wish I could have told myself back then:
I hate to be the one to tell you this, although we both know that this is something you are already aware of—you will find yourself there many, many times in your life. Damn, it does suck. What you may not know at the moment is that you WILL be okay. One of our favorite quotes comes from Les Brown, and it goes a little something like this, “Regardless of what challenge you are facing right now, know that it has not come to stay. It has come to pass.”
I want you to remember this. I want you to burn this into your brain. This time that is passing so agonizingly slow for you, will soon be gone. Sadly, you still won’t have the answers seven months later. You do, however, live in better spirits. You are so much healthier, inside and out. Your mental illness is still a pain in the ass (I’m actually writing this at 3am if that tells you anything).
Another positive you have to look forward to is that you are writing. You are writing so much more. You don’t share everything you write, yet. We still haven’t come to a point where we completely trust sharing our story; but the future is looking bright in that regard.
We are still here, in this small, boring place. BUT we are doing our best to look at it in a positive way now. I don’t quite remember when the mind-shift happened, but it did. This small, boring place, is now looked at as a stepping stone to the next big thing in your life. We are all cool with it—for now.
You’ve actually gotten close to a few amazing people, and also not very close to a few you were once close with. The opinions you heard from them and the perspective you saw in them have opened your eyes to so many crazy ideas. That being said, you’re now even more excited to get out of here and meet new people. But this is a good start.
The Army has also crossed your mind a few times since then. It almost became a real thing a few months ago. Thankfully, you came to your senses and didn’t let yourself run away.
So what I know now is that we will be okay. We’ve made it. We will continue to make it. Making it is what we have always done best. I think that the future looks bright for us. We are going to fight for what we want regardless of how many people have tried—or will continue to try—to push us down. Not everyone sees the path we are trying to go down. Let’s be thankful for that, because after all, it is our path.
Lastly, I just want to tell you that I love you. I don’t think I’ve ever told myself that enough. So it’s a work in progress. We know we are going places, so let’s get our ass in gear and continue to beat this thing.
So far, it’s only made us stronger.
Much love, Future Kelsi.