blah blah blah things
Feb. 23rd, 2011 04:54 amLately I've been having these bouts of... Well, it's not depression. I really don't get depressed. Hell, I hardly get sad. I really think I have more serotonin or whatever than most people. Or maybe it's that I just way too laid back. I used to wonder why I'm not really sad ever. Like, I'll read a book and the dog will die and I'll cry, but then feel better. But I don't really get down with real life.
But lately I've just been having these periods of complete boredom and listlessness. I just don't want to do anything and I have this low-level feeling of meh. I'll try to do other things to get my mind off it but nothing really does it. The only way to make it go away for any length of time is to read a good book or long fic. And if it is a bit crappy, the meh will come and I will give up.
It's these kind of moments where I wished I had a therapist. I mean I really do think this has something to do with the ADHD that my dad does not believe I have, no matter that I have had all the symptoms all my life. Hell, my father won't even entertain the idea that I am dyslexic even with the fact that I was in the special reading class with the special ed teacher for a few years, and that I nearly was held back for sucking at reading in 3rd grade. Of course, he also likes to ignore my history of horrible grades, too.
Ugh. My brain has to be fucked up somehow. And it's not the worst thing ever. I mean, I problem is that I'm not depressed. Or sad much. Like, I can understand depression as an abstract thing but I can't relate. I know that with depression, some people can't even get up and face the day, they just don't have that in them, that sad is totally inadequate to how they feel. I have seen this explained in so many places.
But I just can't connect to it. Because I have never been that bad. Even in my saddest times I could make myself happy. It's like other people have broken bones but I've just sprained things once or twice.
So, yeah. Here I am, complaining about being happy. Or, about having moments where I am kinda-not-really-happy. IDEK.
I should sleep.
But lately I've just been having these periods of complete boredom and listlessness. I just don't want to do anything and I have this low-level feeling of meh. I'll try to do other things to get my mind off it but nothing really does it. The only way to make it go away for any length of time is to read a good book or long fic. And if it is a bit crappy, the meh will come and I will give up.
It's these kind of moments where I wished I had a therapist. I mean I really do think this has something to do with the ADHD that my dad does not believe I have, no matter that I have had all the symptoms all my life. Hell, my father won't even entertain the idea that I am dyslexic even with the fact that I was in the special reading class with the special ed teacher for a few years, and that I nearly was held back for sucking at reading in 3rd grade. Of course, he also likes to ignore my history of horrible grades, too.
Ugh. My brain has to be fucked up somehow. And it's not the worst thing ever. I mean, I problem is that I'm not depressed. Or sad much. Like, I can understand depression as an abstract thing but I can't relate. I know that with depression, some people can't even get up and face the day, they just don't have that in them, that sad is totally inadequate to how they feel. I have seen this explained in so many places.
But I just can't connect to it. Because I have never been that bad. Even in my saddest times I could make myself happy. It's like other people have broken bones but I've just sprained things once or twice.
So, yeah. Here I am, complaining about being happy. Or, about having moments where I am kinda-not-really-happy. IDEK.
I should sleep.