Well hello again. You may want to pull up a seat, as this blog is going to take a somewhat serious route. Just think of it as your parents telling you they’re taking you to Disneyland, when in fact they are taking you to the dentist’s office. By the end of this journey everyone will be left miserable and somewhat woozy from its effects. And hey, who knows, maybe it’ll make going to Disneyland that much more fun.
So now, some recent events have made me “hmmm” quite a bit. I’ve been “hmm”-ing so much lately that I’ve lost about 15 lbs from all the air I’ve been expelling. I think I even lost a lung, but who needs two really? Now there’s a problem that I’ve been carrying around with me since I was a pre-teen. Something that only two people are aware of, and not even my family knows anything of it.
Since I was younger, I have suffered from depression and what I believe is social anxiety. It stems from my relationship (or lack thereof) from my father, and my childhood. You see, when I had the misfortune of having to live with him after my freshman year in HS my life took a serious turn. Everyone thought it would be a great idea. I mean, living in the OC, a school full of white people, and not a speck of trash on the streets. It was like I had died and went to heaven… well, not my version of heaven at least (well, except the white guys). No, this was more like finding out that the only channel you get on your satellite is the PAX network. And you know, anything that gives Billy Ray Cyrus a chance at acting can’t be a good thing. So I was basically plucked from my comfort zone and thrust into a new environment. You’d figure “well at least you can get a chance to make new friends and hang out and still be a teen, right?” No. Wrong. Since my dad didn’t trust me around any boys at school (I don’t blame him) or any bad influences, I wasn’t allowed to: watch TV (unless it featured Della Reese); go on the Internet (unless it got through the parental controls); use the phone (unless the word “church” was mentioned more than once); oh and yeah, have a life basically. So my schedule went as follows: go to school, come home, do homework, eat dinner, and sleep. I had pretty much mastered how to be a retiree by age 15. Sure I found ways to get around all this, but my life basically sucked. I had a harder time making friends in school because I hadn’t come out of the closet yet. So knowing how to be myself was lost on me, or trapped in the closet (not an R. Kelly reference). I tried opening up to certain people but honestly my social skills were far and gone. The only people I was allowed to talk to were adults from church. To be honest, from sophomore year to basically senior year I was a loner. I sat at the front of the school, eating my lunch/doing homework, and watching everyone’s life flash before MY eyes. I didn’t know how to combat the situation and found solace with music and my imagination.
Now over the years I can say that my problems have somewhat improved. I’ve found a niche with certain friends, but it hasn’t completely gone away. I don’t like to victimize myself because I know I can be better than that. But it’s been a struggle…. Oh man has it been a struggle. The easy part is MAKING friends, but the hardest part is KEEPING friends. I’ve had bad experiences with family, exes, and even “friends”. And although I can admit to some of the wrongdoing on my end, it doesn’t make anything easier. I have a lot of trust issues and really the only person I consider close in my life is my friend Josh. He is the first person I turn to for anything (read: everything) and lately I’ve been feeling that I have relied upon him TOO much. It’s like that episode of Sex and the City when Carrie just goes on and on about her problems with Big to the girls, that they finally tell her to see someone else to help her deal. Well I tried that once. Back in LA I was seeing a regular therapist to help cope with these problems, but as I felt that I was opening up more and becoming vulnerable I stopped going. It wasn’t even about him, but I just felt that I couldn’t truly open myself up to be exposed in that manner. I’m scared of people seeing the darker side of myself and a lot of times I will put on a front to mask those feelings. Is it healthy? Not at all, and sometimes I go as far as running away from those problems so as to avoid it. That’s the reason why I’ve moved around a lot. I thought it was because I had been getting bored with life, but it turns out I was trying to get away from myself.
I’ve been in San Diego for a little more than two years. I first thought that the reasons for the big move were to get away from the chaos that was living in Los Angeles. I had a good job but felt I wanted more. I wanted to try something different and start fresh elsewhere. Two years later the only thing I’ve accomplished is feeling more alone than I ever have been. I’ve been a series of huge mistakes with friends and therefore burnt some bridges. I even began to get close with someone who I thought was a good friend. It turns out; he was very vocal about my personal life when I was not around. Naturally I was furious, but it seemed to be a mirror of myself and things I had done. Would I mend that friendship and start anew? No. Once the trust is gone in a relationship (for me, at least) then it’s forever gone. And now I’ve recently cut ties with two other friends for mistakes that were made. Did I sense the friendship drifting? Sure. But I held on because if there’s anything I’m more afraid of in life it’s being alone. But now that we’ve gone through this recent situation, I know that this may not be the healthiest relationship for me. Now there is just myself, and no one else around. This past weekend my roommates and I had a 4th of July party at our house with over 70 people in attendance and still I felt like the only girl in the world *removes Rihanna wig*. Unfortunately, my anxiety kicked in and rather than mingle with the crowd and network myself I hid in my room for the entire length of the party. I don’t know what came over me, but I felt so alone and would have rather not been seen than to be viewed as a downer. Last time I checked, no one requested a Debbie Downer impersonator at the party. The entire weekend I honestly spent with no one but myself. Didn’t call, text, FB or contact anyone in any sort of way.
So you see, these skeletons in my closet are starting to come out for air. Firstly, I didn’t know skeletons required air but that’s beside the point. The real point I’m making with this blog is to bring to light a problem that I have been struggling with for a good part of my life. Am I happy with it? Of course not, it’s called depression for a reason DUH lol. But somewhere in my life I lost the spark in my heart. I know I need to allow life to happen, and let myself be a little more vulnerable. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hiding – from others, and especially myself. This weekend made me realize that the battle is not over yet, and I will be looking into getting help. Being Latino we’re built with pride in our bones (and yet somehow I’m still weak, go figure) but a smart person knows when it’s time to extend his/her hand out and reach out. So whether you cared to read this, or cared to care, I know I will be ok. I lost control of the wheel years ago and need to figure out the best way to get back on track. Unfortunately, I am horrible at driving and even worse with directions so if you see me cruising in your neighbor’s lawn then just crack a quick smile knowing that I am on the right way…. Right before you call highway patrol.
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