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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books.php/item_id/2068069-The-Quiet-Things-That-No-One-Ever-Knows
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #2068069
Sisyphean Attempts at Blogging
So keep the blood in your head
And keep your feet on the ground
If today's the day it gets tired
Today's the day we drop out
Gave up my body and my bed
All for an empty hotel
Wasting words on lower cases and capitals

-Brand New
July 31, 2017 at 3:49pm
July 31, 2017 at 3:49pm
#916450
I have depression. I have anxiety. I am in therapy. I get told that I ‘don’t seem like someone who struggles with depression’ quite often. Which is hard because then you feel like you have to prove your illness to them; justify it somehow. Which is strange. Because you don’t see people say things like “you don’t seem like you have cancer!” and immediately feel the need to prove your illness. We’ve got a long way to go on mental health stigma. Anyway.

I work incredibly hard so that people don’t see my bad days, and it is mentally and physically exhausting. It’s productive and counterproductive at the same time. On one hand, I get to go about my day without anyone really noticing. On the other, sometimes all I want is to be noticed. I don’t want to burden anyone with my sadness because often they ask ‘why’ and there isn’t a direct answer. I’m just feeling lost and hopeless – and how do you deal with that answer? Don’t feel that way? Well, I’d love to. I just… don’t know how.

I was once told I was ‘too much’ to deal with, ‘too hard to be around’, and a ‘burden’ when I was sad, and unfortunately that has stuck with me through most of my life. I don’t want to be ‘too much’. I don’t want to put people out. I don’t want people to worry. The way a room feels when you honestly answer “how are you today?” with what’s really going on inside your head and your heart… It can kill the room right on the spot. People get nervous and tense. They handle you with kid gloves. They try to change the topic. They try to fix you. They tell you to exercise; that helps depression, right? Just take a multivitamin and get some good sleep. You’ll be fine.

(And, sidebar, sometimes if you ask “how are you”, a person with depression will reflexively answer ‘fine’ because we are trained to be fine. We have to be fine. You want to hear we are fine. Try to ask your question better: Are you doing ok? You seem down lately, are things all right? Something with a little more context that shows you are opening yourself up to allow them to be not ok and share that with you.)

And they all mean well. But if you’re ever wondering why your friend who is struggling doesn’t talk to you? This is probably why. They don’t want to be the burden or the downer or the one who makes everyone feel awkward. And they have heard that diet and exercise adage before. So when you say “how are you?” they will most likely say “fine”… because they don’t think you actually want to hear what is going on without then trying to jump in to magically make it better. And chances are they see you as trying to fix something that is broken; that you see them as broken. And, honestly, they don’t want you to fix them – they need to fix themselves… and just want your support while they find their path again.

I have great days and I have bad days and I have average days. The sick thing is that the great days, and even the average days sometimes, make me feel like maybe I’m not actually depressed and make me feel guilty because depressed people shouldn’t have good days. You develop an deep imposter complex just because you got to smile and laugh and forget what was weighing you down for a while. And my bad days make me want to pack my car and leave because I’m ‘too much’ for those around me. But I stay and I try to figure it all out. It’s mental fortitude. The people you know with depression are some of the most mentally strong people you know.

I really don’t know what my point in writing this is. I guess it’s to highlight that often the people who need help look a lot like people who don’t look like they need help. To try to share ways to talk to friend who you’re worried about and show them you care without scaring them away or making them feel worse. I’ll keep fighting against the stigma in any way I can. Even if it only helps one person. That’s it, I guess. Just… keep persisting, friends. Keep persisting.
March 23, 2017 at 8:31am
March 23, 2017 at 8:31am
#907412
My Facebook On This Day reminded me that about 10 years ago while I was still working at my first post-college job, the CEO of the company asked me for a ride home. So me and my junky ’97 Grand Prix drove Mr. CEO home to his gated community house. It was a really awkward time. I mean I was barely making $10 and hour and living in my parents basement and here I was driving him home to this house, boat in the driveway, building my parent's house probably could have fit in twice... and it just felt so... wrong.

I've always hoped that if I have money, I won't be an a-hole with it. What I mean by that is that I hope I wouldn't buy fancy things just to but fancy things... I would hope I'd still live within my means and save money and just be able to travel more or afford a few more opportunists to go out with friends or spread some ROAKs.

I have a friend who had a six figure job for years and lost it. They've been so stressed right now about money and where it's going to come from and worried because they "only have half a mil in the bank".

That could pay off my house and my student loan debt and my car and still have money left over to toss around.

I wish I had more money. Money would afford me the ability to travel or learn or play... but I'm kind of okay not being ruled by it. Sometimes I worry that when you HAVE money, your biggest fear is NOT having money. And when you have what you need, you get to just kind of live.
March 3, 2016 at 8:36am
March 3, 2016 at 8:36am
#875595
Still no writing mojo, so more dreams. I have a theme of college/school going on. I should probably look into what that means for me...

I was in a writing class taught by a former English teacher of mine. He taught my 8th grade communications course, and I had a bit of a crush on him. He shared music with me, we talked a lot... I know it was because I was one of the more advanced students, and everyone else was a bunch of lunks, but I had that middle school day dream that it was because he liked me too. Silly middle schoolers, am I right?

So, anyway, Chris was teaching this class. We were all in a room with no desks. I was much older than most of the students, like I was back learning for fun or something. At one point we had to listen to a song and identify something from the themes we had been discussing in it. I recognized the song, but it was obviously not what he meant to play. He got really embarrassed and was trying to change it. He kept casting bashful looks in my direction. He finally got it to stop and dismissed class, but I hung back.

I approached him and told him I knew the song, and I liked it. It was Lover is Childlike by the Low Anthem. He nervously scratched the back of his head and told me he hadn't meant to play that in class because it made him think of me. He didn't want the other students to know we had been (apparently) seeing each other.

Things skipped around a bit, but we ended up back at his apartment, laying in bed talking about music and writing. That wa about when my cat started pawing at me to get up.
March 2, 2016 at 9:07am
March 2, 2016 at 9:07am
#875494
So I’ve decided that, while I am still fighting this writing slump, that I would start writing out my dreams here. They have been oddly vivid and intense lately, and perhaps just stretching my fingers out and writing those down will help me get past this block.

About once a month (yes, that once a month) I have dreams about my ex-boyfriends. It’s usually unclear as to why I am reconnecting with them, but typically it appears Carl has left me or was never in the picture to begin with. Last night was no exception.

I can’t recall why we were in college, but I was back on campus taking a few courses. I was in a run-down building on campus, cleaning things out and getting rid of things when Mike came in. He was very friendly and cordial to me and we ended up being very flirtatious and affectionate. We were talking about the ‘good times’ when we dated, and one thing lead to another.

I remember thinking about how much he hurt me, how damaged he left me, but being okay to put myself back in that position again. It was so weird. After we left that building, I kissed him and told him I’d call him later to stop by my dorm room.

Back at my dorm, my old cat Samson was sleeping on my bed. I had a roommate, but apparently she never stayed in the room. I remember being worried that the cleaning service would tell our RA about my cat.

While trying to find the bathroom, I ran into my RA – who happened to be my ex-boyfriend Nate. He was really standoffish with me. He had his long hair back – the long style he had when we first met in college. I asked him why he was upset with me, and he told me because I knew better than to be hanging around with Mike and that he’d get me in trouble.

It’s faded a bit since this morning, but that’s about as far as I remember from last night. Hopefully as I keep writing these down, more detail will come out.
December 14, 2015 at 11:55am
December 14, 2015 at 11:55am
#868540
I’m struggling quite a bit lately. I want to get my mind back in the frame of writing, but it feels like no matter what I do, I end up distracted, detained, or otherwise derailed.

I miss writing. I just feel like I never have the time to do it anymore. Physically putting a pen to paper is hard. Getting myself to sit in front of a computer after 8-9 hours a day of being glued to my desk is worse.

I bought a fab new computer and I don’t think it’s ever on. I just can’t bring myself to stare at a computer any longer.

So when do I write?

In my head. When I dream.

So it’s never written down. And by the time I go to write it, it seems like an exercise in narcissism more than what it was when I first thought it up.
December 10, 2015 at 2:35pm
December 10, 2015 at 2:35pm
#868302
Day Two:
Strawberry by Everclear from Sparkle and Fade
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=usXrzJPwVDM


Never been here, never coming back
Never want to think about the things
That happened today


When I was in middle school I had difficulty fitting in. I couldn’t understand why I felt like the world was too much for me, so I retreated into hiding on a daily basis. Anxiety took over my life, depression beckoned from around every corner. I felt alone, scared, and empty.

My best friend and I came to know each other over a mutual affliction; self injury. We both did it. We both didn’t understand it. We both spotted the other and recognized we needed help. In 8th grade, we happened to be seated next to each other, layers of bangles and rubber bracelets covering up Hello Kitty Band-Aids, and we knew we were both in the same boat.

Want to lay down on the warm ground
I think I'm going to need a little time to myself


It took a while for us to talk about it, but eventually the ice broke and one of us asked “do you?” knowing all well the answer was “I do”. We had a secret no one else knew, that we couldn’t tell anyone else, but we had comfort in each other.

During our struggle with the addiction aspect of this disorder, we developed a system. Similar to the “One Day at a Time” mentality, we started developing rewards and treats for each other to inspire us to go one day, one week, one month without hurting ourselves. If we made it to six months, the we would go all out and shower the ‘survivor’ with candy, teddy bears, cards, whatever you can think of. Six months was always our goal.

If I can make it six months, maybe I can really stop. Maybe this time will really be it.

On the eve of my first attempt at reaching six months, I fell off. The pressure of being the one who made it first was daunting and I was too scared to play that role. I was so ashamed to go to school and tell my best friend what had happened.

Don't fall down now
You will never get up
Don't fall down now


I arrived at school and she had already broken into my locker (of course we had each other’s combinations!) and stuffed it with a card and a teddy bear. I nearly began to sob. I brought the bear to her in homeroom, guiltily giving it back to her without a word. She knew what this meant, but still, she pushed the bear back across our table to me.

“Keep it. You’ll need it to help you get to the next landmark.”

In that moment I felt so unworthy of her kindness. I wanted her to yell at me. I wanted her to scream at me and tell me I was ALMOST there! How could I fall just short of it all?

I took the bear into my hands, my eyes burning with tears. She hugged me and added, “he’ll get you through today. Then tomorrow, then the next day. And when you get to six months, we’ll get him a friend to help you get to a year.”

Don't fall down now
You will never get up
Don't fall down now, don’t fall down now


I can’t say I never faltered after that day. I did; many times. Through it all, the words of this song would push me to get a little further each time until I’ve reached today.

Don't fall down now
You will never get up
Don't fall down now, don’t fall down now



--------
*italicized lyrics from Strawberry by Everclear
December 10, 2015 at 2:35pm
December 10, 2015 at 2:35pm
#868301
Day Three:
Promise by Matchbook Romance from Stories and Alibis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rSvNjx_G50U



When I was in college, I had myself in the middle of a terrible love triangle. My first real love and I had been in the in the middle of a romantic comedy style relationship. He had a bit of a dark past, and with it came some baggage. I wasn't concerned since my own baggage was always right behind me. Just over a year into our relationship, my boyfriend started choosing his band, his friends, and his alcohol over me. I had always been a fairly independent person, so none of this bothered me to any extreme - or I didn't think it did.

Until I met him.

He was incredible. Spontaneous, funny, smart... and most of all, he made me feel like the center of his world.

It was over six months before anything happened. It was one long day together after another. Then it became long nights that bled into the early sunrise with him sneaking out before my mother got up for work. We talked late into the evening about our dreams, our hopes, and our fears. We watched movies just to find an excuse to be close on the couch. Saying goodbye was the saddest part of the night.

Our tryst stayed quiet and away from my boyfriend's eyes. You can call me what you will for maintaining this affair for so long, but do not judge a woman in love until you have been in her shoes. To this day, I still believe I have only loved three men. My boyfriend, my now husband, and this man.

Because I couldn't claim any real steak in the man I was seeing behind my boyfriend's back - after all, I wasn't his girlfriend - life did what it does; it moves on. My lover decided to pursue a career in the culinary industry, which would take him from our cold northern home in Minnesota away to the desert south of Texas. It wasn't long before the conversations began.

Laying in bed beside him, he felt my sadness.

"What's bothering you?"

"You know what it is," I replied.

"I can't stay."

"I know."

"You need to stay with him."

He asserted that my boyfriend would provide me with more stability and a better life. That I shouldn't settle for someone like himself. I didn't want to make any decisions, I just didn't want him to leave.

What would you say if I asked you not to go
To forget everyone, forget everything and start over with me
Would you take my hand and never let me go
Promise me you'll never let me go


The night came, much to my distress, that he would be leaving on his 23 hour drive to his new home. We spent the evening together, going from place to place and enjoying food and fun like this wasn't actually the last time we may ever see each other.

As it does, the night ended, and we arrived on my doorstep.

I stood before him shaking, a man I had been naked with so many times, feeling more vulnerable and bare than ever before.

"Please don't cry. Please..." he begged me as we clung to each other in the late autumn cold.

"I can't help it."

"I love you. I will always love you."

This was the first time that he told me he loved me. This was the first time let myself cry. It was as if the fragile walls that had guarded my feelings for so long crumbled all at once.

He had taken this all in stride, always being the logical one when the discussion of his imminent departure would arise. It was just a fact. I was supposed to stay here, he was supposed to leave. It was just how it was. I had even begun to doubt his feelings for me, feeling foolish for letting myself fall so in love with a man who I'd never have.

It was then that I noticed his tears.

I feel like I've lost everything when you're gone
Left remembering what it's like to have you here with me
I thought you should know,
You're not making this easy


"This is the hardest thing I've ever done," he said, sniffling and clinging to me. "You make me want to stay."

When he finally left, I walked quietly into my house. I sat on the edge of my bed in the dark for what felt like hours. The pain finally caught up with me, incinerating me in a flash fire of emotion. I sobbed. I gasped. I heaved. I hugged myself and rocked back and forth as the immensity of everything that had happened in the last year overcame me.

Take my hand and never let me go,
Promise me...You'll never let go
Make this last forever


I had risked my happy life with my boyfriend for another man and I had fallen very deeply in love. I had become a cheater. I had broken my boyfriend's trust, and I would soon break his heart by finally being honest. The men I loved, both of them, would be gone.

I cried for the impeding loss of my first love. I cried for the fresh loss of my second. My heart tore itself into little pieces as I tried to make sense of my life and everything around me again. I felt completely dried up, lost, and incomplete.

Laying in my bed, I imagined my lover driving away from me, envisioning a string - one single string - still attached to my heart. It stretched and winded and followed him all the distance to his new home. Not knowing what the future would hold for me, for us, for anything... I closed my eyes trying to remember the nights he held me while I fell asleep.

I'll fall asleep tonight, 'cause that brings me closer to you


-----
*italicized lyrics from Promises by Matchbook Romance
December 10, 2015 at 2:34pm
December 10, 2015 at 2:34pm
#868300
Day Four:
Buffy The Vampire Slayer Theme, Nerf Herder - Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Album
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P65zuRF7zrQ



One of my favorite TV series of all time was and remains Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It appealed to me on so many levels. A fantasy story line, a strong female lead, romance, action, drama… It had everything.

I’d rush home on Tuesday’s or change shifts with a friend at my job to make sure I was home by 7 o’clock to catch the weekly edition. Everyone in my house was instructed not to bother me while I sat on the porch, enamored with Buffy, Xander, Willow and Giles on whatever Sunnydale-saving adventure they happened to be on. I have been known to even shut the door to keep others out.

I identified with Buffy. She was a girl struggling to just be normal. She just wanted to grow up and have a normal life. Every time some calm and peace would finally find her, it would be ripped from her hands. I identified with Willow, the quiet, nerdy girl who didn’t understand why she didn’t fit in. And Xander – the eternally loyal friend, always there, no matter what.

When the final episode of Buffy was aired on May 20th, 2003, I was on my way to Knoxville, Tennessee for a school competition. Only one other person in my group knew the importance of making it to our hotel in time to catch the finale of the greatest TV show, ever. The second we had keys in hand, we raced to our room and didn’t leave until the final credits rolled.

I remember feeling oddly empty. Something I had spent seven years with was suddenly gone. It was over. To this day, I get in my ‘Buffy moods’, meaning that I must start from the beginning and watch to the end once more.

Even now, I hear the Nerf Herder theme and I smile. I collect the comic series the Joss Whedon has continues as a bit of nostalgia and a tiny way of hanging on to the show that I loved so much. I will always love Buffy. I will always be heartbroken for Willow over her loss of Oz and Tara. I will always wish Buffy had loved Spike the way he loved her.

My heart belongs to Sunnydale.
December 10, 2015 at 2:33pm
December 10, 2015 at 2:33pm
#868299
Day One:
Samson, Regina Spektor from Songs (remixed for Begin to Hope)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p62rfWxs6a8



You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first


He lays next to me, a serene smile on his face as I watch him sleep. There is a burning in my chest that slowly sears through my skin, destroying what bits of my heart I thought were left. I am cold. I am callous. I am rotten… Yet he is beautiful. He is beautiful, and I love him.

And history books forgot about us
And the Bible didn't mention us, not even once


This isn’t the first time anyone has been in love. It’s not the first time the passion has been so intense, so vivid that even the poets didn’t dare try to put it into words. It is not the first romance that ever existed, and it will not be the last; but right now, right in this moment, it is the greatest story ever told.

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first


He rolls toward me, his arms sleepily lolling to find my body in his sleep. He pulls me close and the fire in my chest burns me, incinerates me from the inside out. Love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful, and came into my bed
Oh, I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
And kissed me till the mornin' light


“I’ve done something terrible,” I whisper to his dreaming body. “I have to go. I can’t stay.” This admission should have been freeing. This searing pain should be gone, but it isn’t. It subsides to a point of maintenance, and I retract my statement that hangs in the silent room. How can I leave him? How can I let this all go? So I decide to smile and pretend the affair never happened. That it isn’t still happening. That I have chosen the right path in staying.

Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah, we couldn't destroy a single one


We will fight. We will fall apart. Our foundation will crumble. It will all be because of me. The monstrosity that will grow, the guilt I will try to bury every day will consume me and I won’t be able to take it anymore. I will grow distant. I will push him away. And every second that tears us apart will eat my heart alive… Because I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to be the one who destroyed us. But does anyone ever intend to be the villain?

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first



-----
*Italicized lyrics from Samson by Regina Spektor

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books.php/item_id/2068069-The-Quiet-Things-That-No-One-Ever-Knows