I’ve been sad
every day of the month of April. However, the days are getting better, the
weather is getting nicer, and were getting closer to the end of the year. It’s
crazy that school is the place I’ve spent so much time looking forward to being
at and the place I’ve grown to resent and want to escape. I have one more month
of my third year of college and time flies regardless if you’re having fun or
if you’re a miserable piece of garbage wasting away in bed.
In my human
development class, I was reminded how much more life I have left to live. I’m
20 years old and I have, expected, around 60- 70 more years left to live. SIXTY
TO SEVENTY YEARS LEFT TO LIVE. As someone who thinks about dying every single
day, it’s a weird realization that I seriously have barely lived much life at
all. I guess it’s a reminder that I have so much time to work on myself, to
figure things out, to find love both to give and within myself. But these past
20 years, dude… they have felt LONG. Yeah there’s some days where I’m like wow!
I can’t believe I’ve made it this far. And then I have a professor in her mid
40’s telling me that she expects to live 40 more years and my head begins to
hurt and my mind starts to spiral and my thoughts begin to race. Also,
realistically, who knows if I’ll make it 60-70 years. Freak accidents,
illnesses, whatever, that all happens too.
I don’t really
know where I’m going with this post, but I guess I’m reflecting how even on a
beautiful day I’m still sad. Sun is shining down and I’m still sad. But, there
are things that I am looking forward to. Last night, since I realized how bad
every day of April has felt, I decided to write down in the notes on my phone
one thing that happened during the day that made it worth still being alive.
Just little things that I did or enjoyed or just didn’t make me want to kill
myself. I decided I’m going to do this every day for at least the rest of the
semester to not only get myself through every day, but as a reflection that the
little things really count and can outweigh the bigger, “bad” things.
I feel really
unsure about this post, but I need to stop caring because this blog is for me
more than anything else. Sometimes I read the journals that I kept in high
school and there is some #dark #shit in them. I want to shake 14-17 year old
Paige and say, “honey, you’ve got a BIG storm comin’ for ya!” But blah blah
blah gotta go through the storm to see the rainbow whatever I know things are
and will get better and hopefully the help of therapy and medication can help
alter my thoughts better and I can stop repeating the same mistake.
I’m seeing my
psychiatrist next Friday and I’m pretty excited. Not to tell her that I’m still
sad, but maybe for something to change or for her to punch me in the face and
call me stupid- which ever happens.