Left Behind

I've been having trouble accepting that I'm allowed to do things at my own pace. A little over a year ago, before mental illness took hold of my life, everything was in place. I was taking honors and AP classes, getting top notch grades, playing sports, participating in clubs--I was doing everything right. And so were my friends. But once I started struggling, my priorities had to change completely. Soon I couldn't look ahead to the future, and I had to tackle each difficult day as it came. And that's still how it is now. 

When your life stops, you kind of expect everyone else's life to stop too. But it doesn't. I see all of my honors student friends visiting colleges, prepping for SATs, and getting jobs, and I feel left behind in the dust. That was supposed to be me. That was the track I was on, and I feel like it's lost to me now. 

I'm still battling to function normally on a day to day basis, so my old goals and aspirations had to take a back seat. And I know that's the right decision, and that my mental health and stability is far more important than standardized testing and football games, but I still find myself wishing for the life I feel I have lost. 

I think it'll get easier with time, and that I'll accept that I need to march to the beat of my own drum, but right now it hurts to see everyone moving on without me. 

This might seem a bit whiney or bitter, but it's how I feel. It's hard to accept where you are in your life, especially when times are hard. But I'm going to keep trying, and keep on wandering down my own path. Because it's my own journey, and no one else's. 

My Life Through a VSCO Filter

I'm finding it really interesting how I document my life online, particularly through Instagram. I love photography, and I find the pairing of pictures and words to be a wonderful way to express myself. 

Looking back on my posts can be a bit peculiar. I see times when I was honest, and times where I put on a happy face and pretended all was well. I see true joy and dark sadness. I see the rise and fall of seasons, emotions, and events. I see what I deemed in my mind to be important, and I see all that I left out. I see how my pictures and posts have changed and evolved as time passes. 

I truly enjoy how you can use the internet as an online diary, a documentation of your life. Above is just one way I document my life, and there are so many others, some on the internet, and some on pages in my room. 

Instagram is one of my favorite means of expressing online, and if you'd like to join my journey through life and recovery, you can follow me: @juliadiaries. 

How do you like to express online? Do you think that documentation through social networks is a good or bad thing? Let me know in the comments. 

I've been thinking a lot lately

about sadness

sorrow

misery

and tears.

Perhaps it is because my world is so dark

or because it's all I can find in my mind.

And I think about those who are sad

particularly those with depression.

I would do anything to save them

to take them away from the hell within their skulls

to scoop up their souls

and cradle them

in the crook of my arm.

"Everything is alright now,"

I would croon

to the fractured soul

"You don't deserve this pain,

"I'm here to take it away."

Yet why is it that I fail to care for my own soul

in such a way.

Why is it that I let ice settle in the cracks,

causing my weakened soul to shatter

and pearls to fall from my eyes

a broken, tearful mess.

"Broken is beautiful,"

some people say.

Some people are wrong.

Broken is like jumping 

into the depths of hell

and feeling both an 

icy chill

and 

a scalding burn

across your weak, fragile skin.

Broken is dreaming of death

and being disappointed when you open your eyes

as the sun comes up.

Broken is anything but beautiful.

It is pain.

it is hell.

Why do I write about such pain?

Shouldn't I try to fill the world with positivity?

When I try to express my pain to others

I am met with invalidation.

"have you tried yoga"

"you should meditate"

"just smile more"

"I hear bananas and avocados make you happier"

"oh yeah I was depressed once

"when my cat died

"i was sad for like three days"

"just be grateful for what you have"

"don't you know others have it worse?"

"you're just choosing to wallow in your depression"

"choose happiness"

"stop being so negative"

"why are you choosing to be so miserable?"

I want to scream

until my throat is horse.

Misery is not a choice.

If it was, I would be an idiot

for choosing such pain.

I've tried bananas

I've done yoga

I smile every day

even though that smile is fake. 

So why am I writing about my sadness?

Why dedicate a post to pain and negativity?

Perhaps you wouldn't be asking this

if you first understood

that I did not choose this life

I did not choose this pain

I want to be happy

But just because you try to turn the light on

doesn't mean it will. 

The Crane Project

One key part of coping and dealing with trichotillomania (hair pulling disorder) is keeping your hands busy. Now there are many ways to do that (i.e. spinner rings, tangles, silly putty, play doh, knitting, etc.), one coping skill I discovered over the summer is making paper cranes. Any origami would probably do, but I chose to make only paper cranes, for they are simple, pretty, and don't require much intellectual effort to create. I would sit for hours on the couch or at the table, just folding and folding paper cranes. Since you need both hands to make the cranes, your physical body is dedicated to folding the origami. Both hands are completely occupied, and thus you can't pull unless you stop folding. This way of coping may not work for everyone, but it helped me a great deal, and significantly reduced my pulling. Before I knew it, I had made over seven hundred cranes, and I had no idea what to do with them all. So I came up with this. 

Using clear fishing wire, a needle, and some beads, I stringed up my cranes into these garland-like strands. I had different sizes of cranes, so I alternated and made half of them large and long, and the other half small and short. The process of stringing these together was not easy, especially since I'm not too gifted in the DIY department. It literally took blood sweat and tears (blood because I kept poking myself with the needle, sweat because I was moving around so much, and tears because half way through most of my strands of cranes that I had spent hours making had fallen apart because I didn't secure them properly). But despite the struggles and strife, I'm really pleased with the product. The colors of the cranes are bold and bright, and they really stand out against my dark blue walls. I'm in love with the way they look, and I'm happy that I took the time to create these wall ornaments. 

There are definitely other things that you can do with your cranes if you have extra or if you're not into this sort of project. Cranes look beautiful in a clear glass vase, or you can attach a paper clip or hook to them and create a christmas ornament. I like how you can really use your imagination when it comes to these cranes--there's so many options that you can think up when it comes to this. 

Do you have any other ideas of what to do with paper cranes? Let me know in the comments! 

More than a Condition

                                     

My diagnosis as stated by the doctors: Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder, EDNOS, Borderline traits, and Trichotillomania. 

Funny, nowhere in that diagnosis do I see the name "Julia." Because guess what-- you are not your illnesses. Your conditions can not and will not define you. It's very easy to let your illnesses define who you are. But here's the thing---they don't. My struggles with mental illness have made me the person I am today. I am stronger, more mature, and more empathetic because of it. But that doesn't mean that I am my conditions. I am so much more than an anxiety disorder, so much more than my depression. You can look through my medical records all you want, but you'll find little about the true me. 

Julia loves the wilderness, and long walks among the trees. She is compassionate towards humans and animals alike, and wishes only to take others' pain away. She is diligent, and strong, and intelligent. Julia is in love with the English language, and could read poetry for hours on end. Julia has a tendency to push others away, but when you truly get to know her, she'll be loyal until the very end. She's an introvert, but she'll spend hours discussing what she's truly passionate about. She loves photography, and looks at the world through a Nikon lens. Born in the fall, she'll dance to the music of Autumn, and sing among the falling leaves. She'll read the rainy days away, and spend the sunny ones in a wobbly old kayak in a smooth, glistening lake. Julia has spent much of her life in darkness, but she believes that there is light. She is willing to fight for what others take for granted, and she is ready to win her battle. 

I am so much more than my conditions, and so are you. Never allow yourself to be defined by a chemical imbalance in your brain. You are worth mountains, and the world deserves to see your shining personality. 

So drop the labels, push aside the diagnosis, and don't ever be afraid to be YOU.

Socks and Recovery

I feel hope in today. I have spent quite a while in darkness, and today I finally see little glimpses of light. They are generally short and fleeting, but they're there, and that's the important part.

I've realized that success in recovery isn't how much hair is on your head, how long you've gone without self harming, or how well you manage your anxiety. True success means that you accept yourself fully where you are in your struggle. It's a recognition that the fight isn't over, but you will love yourself through it anyway.  

I'm definitely not there yet, but I'll keep fighting till I am. 

In the meantime, enjoy these pictures of my stripey socks ^_^

Wishing for Autumn

It may only be the end of August, but I am 100% ready for autumn to come. It is my favorite season by far, filled with some of the most gorgeous hues. When autumn comes I break out my sage and brown blouses, dark jeans, and bordeaux lipstick. I can hardly wait for the leaves to start changing, although I know I'll have to wait at least another month before they do. Fall is a beautiful season, and in my mind is the best of four. There's a certain air of melancholy in autumn, but not in a bad way. It's a feeling that makes you want to button up your coat and hurry home to your warm, cozy house and loving family. It's a time where I feel immensely grateful for the little things, whether it be family gatherings, soft blankets, warm fires, hot cider--all of it is music for my soul. I'm ready for autumn, and I'll be thrilled when it arrives. 

Minnetonka

My new obsession: Minnetonka shoes. I'm head over moccasins in love with them in every way possible. I must admit, one of my favorite things about them is that they make me feel like Pocahontas, my all time favorite Disney princess. Not only are they absolutely adorable, but they're so comfortable too. They're supportive and soft, my favorite combination. I can't believe I haven't bought any Minnetonka shoes prior to this. They're right up my alley; I absolutely adore them.  

The Hair

So you may be a bit curious as to where my hair has come from. No, I haven't found a hair growth potion that grows my hair out over night, but I've got the next  best thing: a wig. Wearing this wig has really given me back a lot of my self confidence, for as much as a bald head can be fun at times, there's quite a bit of emotional trauma when it comes to hair loss and bald patches. I picked up this wig yesterday, and I've been on top of the world since then. It's been a while since I've had hair, and having this wig is just absolutely amazing. It's beyond words. I feel like I've gotten back my femininity, and more importantly, it's given me more confidence. I don't cringe when I look in the mirror anymore; instead I feel happy to see dark, wavy locks brimming my face.

My wig is made of human hair, and it's intended for daily use.  So it needs a lot of love and care. Every two weeks or so you need to wash it with some magical wig shampoo and conditioner, and you need to brush it out whenever you wear it. The nice thing about a human hair wig is that you can treat it just like you would hair. It can be curled and straightened without being damaged, which is wonderful. I expected the wig to be itchy and uncomfortable, but it's actually quite nice. It just feels like you're wearing a thin cap around your head. Then again, I'm bald, so for someone with long hair it might be much more uncomfortable. But all in all, I'm really really happy, and this wig will surely boost my confidence in many ways, especially when I begin school in the fall. 

My Own Path

I've been thinking a lot about the future lately

And how there seems to be so many requirements.

Graduate high school

Go to college

Graduate college

Get a job

Get a husband

Have a family

Live to see your great grandchildren

Die at a ripe old age. 

Sure, that lifestyle works for many people, but I have been reminding myself lately that there is more than that one way to live my life. I don't have to do what other people my age are doing. My priorities and values can be different, and that's okay. For me, given my recent life experiences, a lot of the things my peers find important are mere specks of dust in my mind. Grades, boyfriends, social lives--these things are no longer important in my mind. I now realize that there are things far more important that we should focus on. I'd prefer to focus on finding a home within myself and learning to be self compassionate and happy. If that means sacrificing some of the "normal" teenage experiences, so be it. I know what it's like to be in total darkness, and hitting rock bottom has made me realize that getting a grade lower than an A is no big deal. It's okay for me to wander off the beaten path. If I'm happy and content within myself, everything else will fall into place. I can work on learning the banjo and climbing mountains if I want to. It doesn't matter if my friends are busy going to sports practice and attending football games. There aren't any rules to leading the "right" life. 

I'm at a different place than my peers. And yes, that can be pretty hard, since I feel as though I cannot always relate to others my age. But I am where I am supposed to be. And that's okay. 

Trichotillomania | The Haircut

I made another video, this time discussing trichotillomania and my crazy bold haircut. :)

Is Happiness a Choice?

source

I was scrolling through tumblr today and I saw a surplus of cute, colorful images bearing the words "choose happiness." Most would think little of posts such as these, thinking them to be simple and positive pictures that are meant to brighten your day. But for me, I felt slightly bothered by their loud and almost ignorant message. As someone who suffers from chronic anxiety and depression, sheer happiness is something that is far more difficult and complex than a mere choice. I can choose to try my very best to be happy, but it doesn't always mean that it'll work.

For me, an "okay" day is something to celebrate, it's something that shows progress and hope. When you're stuck in misery for so long, a quick break from it is like a breath of fresh air, a short time to rest and recover. But when you wake to feelings of depression and sadness the next day, you're filled with frustration and anger at your current state of mind. Because being miserable is no fun, believe me. No one in their right mind would ever choose to be unhappy for unbearable lengths of time, for it's absolutely awful. So when I see images telling me to "choose happiness," it makes me a little bit upset. If happiness was just a choice, don't you think I would have chosen it already? If it were that easy, my depression could simply dissolve and I could get on with my life. You can't choose happiness any more than you choose sadness. It's not a conscious decision, it's a reaction to some sort of stimuli in your life.

Happiness is something that I constantly ache for, and something that I truly love. I know what it is like to be happy, and it is a wonderful, gorgeous feeling. However, it's unrealistic to assume that someone can simply choose to be happy all the time. It's impossible. And even if it were possible, would you choose constant happiness? I know that I wouldn't. Being miserable is not a good feeling, and if you suffer from depression, constant sadness can be completely crippling and frustrating. But since I have experienced such deep, intense sadness, it allows me to better appreciate the times when I am happy. I cherish those moments, for they are few and far between, making them beacons of light in the darkest of times.

I'd like to share a video on the very topic that I'm discussing, for it outlines how I feel quite perfectly. Beckie0 is one of my favorite YouTubers, and she struggles with several of the same mental health issues as I do, and shares many of my opinions as well. Please watch this video, and think twice before you tell someone to simply choose to be happy.

Sorry for the rather deep and serious post, but this is something that I wanted to share with you guys, as it is important to me. I also wanted to bring a little light upon some of the mental health issues that I struggle with, because I'd like to write more about them in the future.

p.s. If you'd like to follow me on tumblr, here's my link: http://thetasteofmountains.tumblr.com/