I thought I'd kicked my depression, but it still shows up in little pockets of melancholy.
This past week or month I've fallen into one of those pockets and I can't seem to drag myself up by my bootstraps. I hate realizing that I don't have any right to complain about anything anymore. I already got all the sympathy one can expect for depression last year. Everyone views my sadness and related OCD/guilt complex as too silly to even discuss.
Depression is not intuitive. Intuitively I know that I'm not worthless, but that doesn't stop me from crying myself to sleep. As I've mentioned before, I validate myself through my interpersonal relationships and through school. It doesn't help that I'm losing friends and getting little to no response about my academic successes.
Right now, I feel as if I couldn't possibly be uglier or more worthless.
People insist on taking horrible photos of me and then showing me. Sure, I've seen decent pictures of me. My senior portraits are a good example. But while everyone else manages to look cute, or at least normal, in snapshots, I continue to look dead. Everyone seems to take great pleasure in telling me just how horrible I really look. "Omg Amelia, you're so pale, you look dead." "Are you sick? You have huge rings under your eyes." Mirrors are the devil. So are digital cameras. I don't want to know what I look like right now, in my mind I could look great. I sleep almost 9 hours a day, and I take my vitamins. It's not my fault I always have dark circles under my eyes.
Even though I haven't been markedly gaining weight, it has definitely been migrating from acceptable places to unacceptable ones. When I sit in classes, I can feel my rolls. I squirm in my seat to make sure they're not noticeable. None of the clothes I like look good anymore. I'm addicted to baggy T-shirts and sweaters. If I happen to glance in the mirror as I leave the restroom, all I see is my double chin. If my weight would distribute itself evenly, I would have less of a problem. It all seems to be concentrated in my face and stomach. No fair; if only it'd pick the middle-ground. Again, this isn't my fault. I've been trying to eat less, and I've been doing half an hour of DDR most nights.
I know enough psychology to understand that most people gravitate to others whom they feel are in their 'attractiveness range,' especially girls. Still, I hate being ignored. I wouldn't be offended if people wouldn't look at me, as long as they'd talk to me. I'm suddenly jealous of Islamic women who wear burkas. It must be nice to leave the house and not worry about how you look. More than that, I'm jealous of every girl who manages to look good every single day, or even those that manage to do it once a week.
While I'm trying to lose some weight, and willing myself to be generally more attractive, I'm getting pretty resigned to my situation. I had been thinking of not participating in the spring play so I could join a sport. I've decided that it probably wouldn't help much, and I'll get more enjoyment out of theater in the long run. I love the people who've been encouraging me to do theater; I would enjoy seeing the sudden death of the people who say "well, if it bothers you that much, maybe you should do something about it."
Please join us next time for installment two: Amelia Rants About Worthlessness.