depression

High-Strung

Posted on by elemonated

The trials of the high-strung person are so vividly captured in another one of Lev Yilmaz’s super-relatable Tales of Mere Existence.

It’s worse if you were raised to keep it quiet. Then when you can’t, and because you’ve been taught to keep it quiet you also have no idea how to express it all in a way that makes sense to anyone, your friends and family have no idea why you’re suddenly freaking out and all fronts of being a calm, cool, collected person go out the door.

Coping mechanisms?

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Sometimes

Posted on by elemonated

artwork by /u/motivatinggiraffe aka Penny Redshaw

Some days I need to remind myself not to give in to my emotions.

Today I won’t be angry. Today I won’t snap. Today I won’t cry. Today I won’t shirk. Today I will be productive and not let anxiety destroy my work ethic or my relationships. Today I will let bygones be bygones, and eventually bygones will actually be bygones and I’ll have let them go with practice.

Usually, if I’m emotionally drained, this is all easier, weirdly enough. And I’m a little drained, not going to lie. I haven’t really been given a rest yet.

Or if I can pour a little of it out, I can deal with all of it easier. It doesn’t threaten to tip over.

To accomplish that, I’m going to make a list of things I get to do if I do what I need to do.

I can:

  • Find an interesting article and write about it
  • Write a poem
  • Work on a composition
  • Play videogames
  • Catch up on Youtube videos
  • Play The Sims/maybe download Sims 4
  • Go to the library and check out books
  • Fiddle with my phone

if I first:

  • Finish my schoolwork
    • Consumer Behavior, then Marketing Consulting, then International Business, then Politics and Literature
  • Finish polishing my resume and apply to the places I wanted to apply to
  • E-mail a company about a misunderstanding

Okay. I can do this.

Psychology

“We Just Can’t Have You Here”

Link | Posted on by elemonated

“We Just Can’t Have You Here”

This describes why I am going to wait until I have a larger, and steady income to get treatment for myself.

My freshman year went down about the same way, except I’m not a self-harmer, so the events manifested themselves differently. I was pushed out of my room, and then pushed out entirely. I kind of wish I cared more, in a way, about the school like the author did. I guess it’s better that I never created an attachment to it though, because what happened just made me angry, and didn’t devastate me.