I haven’t been feeling like myself lately. I have been sleeping more than usual. I slept until noon today, which I haven’t voluntarily done since I was in high school. I heard somewhere that people who sleep more are often depressed, but I wouldn’t be quick to self-diagnose myself as depressed. It’s easy to say that you are feeling depressed without thinking exactly what you are saying, it’s the equivalent of saying that someone is retarded or something is gay. I am quick to remind myself that people actually suffer from these ailments and it is not something to joke or take lightly.
I remember when I read The Giver by Lois Lowery, it really made me think before I speak. In the book, their society was considered perfect and controlled by Elders. Language was something was that was also controlled. Some words were so antiquated that they no longer held any meaning, which what made most utter, “precision of language” if people spoke them. I feel that such words like depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses should be uttered with the utmost care. It shouldn’t be a word to throw around.
Depression is something that I have never been diagnosed with, nor have the understanding of the struggle, which is why I say that I haven’t been feeling like myself. I do however have anxiety. I have never felt more alone. I need someone to talk to. Someone physically present. Not that I don’t enjoy talking on the phone or texting my friends, but it’s not the same as physically talking to someone. We all need that once in a while to be okay. We need social interaction. We thrive from it. I thrive from it. I have always been a social person. In Kansas, my friends were usually just a five-minute drive away. I could talk to them easily. That’s not the case here.
I want to go back to Kansas even more so today. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss having someone to talk to. I thought I was going to be able to handle this, but I guess I was wrong. This is much more difficult than I thought. Something keeps telling me to go back, that this was a mistake. Part of me thinks it’s my anxiety telling me this, but at this point, I don’t know anymore.