Times have been a little tough since that last essay I wrote (which was for a class, but I had fun writing it so decided to put it up here as well). I've completely forgotten about this whole thing and every single time I decided to sit down and write something, I wondered why, exactly, anyone would want to read about me. It was as if this blog needed some sort of purpose or gimmick for me to fully attend to it. It almost makes me long for the days of LiveJournal, when everyone knew what they were in for when they read something by you. It is a journal, after all. I guess the point is that I don't know where to go with this. I certainly don't have the energy to write full five-page essays everyday, nor do I think anyone would really read that.
Maybe I should write about what has happened since I last wrote. It's a long enough story, at least. Basically, the drive to and from college was giving my nerves a workout, and the thought of living there again was as welcoming as a cheese grater to the face. I did the best I could given all my neuroses and diagnosed nutbar issues, but in the end it was just all too much. I didn't drop out, thankfully, but I did change my major to basically the same thing, but in an online format. I think the cons of such an idea are apparent, but it took so much pressure off missing one or two days, wherein I would miss so much work and information that the very idea of catching up made me even more nervous, to the point where I would have panic attacks about panic attacks.
As you can imagine, life as been...hermit-like, to put it lightly. My anxiety is mostly gone, but replaced with depression. If I've learned anything from this experience, it is that our minds like to create little barriers to protect us (my therapist actually tells me that "spells" is a common term for this). Once one of our problems is gone, the mind has to create something else to either put all that misused energy, for fear that something might be wrong with our way of thinking. Of course, this isn't actually the case, and while it can make things worse, it is actually a sign of progress. I defeated this bout of anxiety, and now my spell, in its noble yet misguided ways, wants to protect me from the very things the anxiety was protecting me from. Unfortunately, being social and productive are not at all things one should be protected from.
I haven't found a way do defeat this just yet, but I am on the lookout for someone to help me change my medication. In the meantime, I'm working on doing small things, like writing in this, for example, to energize my creativity. There is obviously some way to break out of this and enter the next phase of my life. While I keep looking, I will keep documenting, and I hope that as much as the writing helps me, the results of whatever I find can help someone else.
