The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Hey Kids, Let’s Talk About Mental Illness

        Did everyone pull through the Mercury retrograde with everything intact? I hope so, because if it unraveled it’s a bitch trying to put it back together again. I’m speaking for me, of course. Depression is already my oldest friend, seasonal depression is my depression’s older meaner cousin that depression invites over for the holidays (WITHOUT MY PERMISSION) that doesn’t leave for several months on end, then when I get that bastard to finally leave here comes Mercury being all emotional and taking me down with her. In short the last few months have been nothing but a huge dumpster fire.
        Moods change without warning. Tears come without provoking. Exhaustion comes when sleep is abundant. Mercury has her shit in check finally but the aftershocks and events to come leave little sunlight. Seasonal depression always hits me hard because the feeling of being stuck gets overwhelming. I know I mention a lot that I miss Chicago and I want to move back, but Chicago just represents something bigger for me. It’s not just a place, but any place where I feel like I belong and unfortunately home has never been that. Ohio has never felt like a place where I could let my hair down, be me, feel accepted, feel free, and give me inspiration. That may not make sense, but my personality is attracted to big lights and busy streets full of life. Something I can draw inspiration from. My muse. It doesn’t have to be Chicago, but Chicago did provide that escape for me. So, here we are in another winter. Another season of self loathing and “Someone please get me the hell out of here!” Domino effect. My mind becomes idle and still therefore it grows angry and bitter. Depression’s mean older cousin’s way of letting you know they’ve arrived. 
        Life is redundant. Everything and everyone gets on your nerves. Then daylight savings time hits and that mean old cousin starts to pack his bags, but not before leaving a nasty note on your pillow to tell you he’ll be back for Thanksgiving. Asshole. Then, just then, when you felt like the worst was over it wasn’t. Retrograde threw my mind for a loop. Not knowing whether I was coming or going. A constant anger and sadness that replaced everything I was. Work killing me more than usual. A semester that seems to be going into it’s 17th month of never ending arithmetic and whatever the hell my professor is teaching solely through YouTube videos. A relationship that you swear is going nowhere. Are we going to make any big moves…. hell moderate moves or is this it? Just this standstill? It all became infuriating. Infuriating because I’m not moving. If there is any moving it’s in slow motion… backwards. On the inside there’s just this constant screaming that doesn’t let up. The depression says “Well, where are you gonna go anyways?” Good point. All the things that once motivated me are no longer my happy place. So where do I go?
          Last week I had an idea. I dreamt that I approached a railroad crossing. I parked my car across the tracks, hopped into the passenger side, fastened my belt and waited for the train to hit the opposite side. I woke up in a hospital bed with all my loved ones around me and wept when I realized I was still alive. I’ve taken enough psych courses to know that it means I don’t want to die. I switched seats so that my body would be recognizable for God’s sake. But I do know it represents that I want a change that makes a huge impact, but I could be wrong. I do know one thing, depression has been my friend longer than anyone and he had never brought me dreams this vivid. And never did he make it look so sweet. As we grow closer to the date I would’ve given birth, the date I would’ve graduated which has now been pushed back, and the third anniversary of my dad’s death it kinda makes you wonder what the meaning of it all is? Is there any? A life where you just eat, sleep, work, and pay bills can’t be something fulfilling… or I should say that it isn’t. Not for me. I don’t even know what to look forward to. The next less than desirable paycheck? 
        I try and I try but things seem to never go right and even when they start out that way they soon sour. I wonder if things had been different had I been the child to rebel instead of follow rules. What if my dreams were encouraged instead of laughed at? Modesty out the door, I obviously have a way with words, but there’s only so many stories you can make about a broken girl who has no hope. Even character me is always stuck. Where does she go? Where is her happy ending? While we’re at it, where’s mine?

Asia Aneka Anderson, 2019©