The Amazing Life of a Depressed Girl

Chapter 24: The mountain

That's the thing about it: I always knew I wasn't meant to lead a boring life, that I wouldn't be able to accept it. And all these things I've done and accomplished so far prove it, but it still all seems like what I need is at an arm's reach. Like if I can just get to the next thing, I'll feel like I've done something.

The reality is I've done a lot. More than most people ever will. My brain refuses to acknowledge it. If I wrote it all down and gave the credit to another person, it would be easy to see the merit, but something keeps me from seeing it in myself.

A short list of a stranger's accomplishments:

-2 Bachelors Degrees (one in creative writing and one in biology)

-traveled to 13 different countries

-studied in 3 different countries

-put themselves through college

-rescued upwards of 20 animals over the years(birds, dogs, kittens, a bee that one time, etc.)

-poetry published in 4 different magazine, anthologies, etc.

-pursued a Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine in another country

-plus all the small stuff that comes in between

It may seem bragadocious—that's a word right?—to say these things knowing there about me and being like, "Oh, it's really no big deal." If someone else said that to me, I'd say they're being an asshole.

And maybe I am an asshole, but every day I wake up and my life just feels so . . . boring. Like it doesn't matter. It feels like a tv show that is only full of filler episodes, like everyone has their chance to be the main character but me.

I've come a long way to get here, as you've read, and struggled to get past the life that my parents intended for me and raised me for. Ripping myself from the iron-spun chrysalis to take an entirely new form, a form that I could be happy with. And I'm still not sure what I've grown to be.

I've put myself in situations I'm surprised I've survived, but it feels like those parts of my life were lived by someone else, like the memories are hollow like a story I heard once at a party from someone whose name I can't quite remember, but I think it started with a B or was it a D.

Depressions sucks it out of you. The feeling. The memory does its best to hold on, but the feelings leach out of it, small cracks until you don't realize that the barrel is empty. Maybe this is why I keep going back for more, for the punishment of making the wrong choices. Just to feel something. Just to let it electrify me for a moment that never lasts long enough.

I remember sitting there, at a computer 2000 miles away from the country I grew up in, from everyone I've ever loved, from the things that my life used to revolve around—Taco Bell included—because I am incapable of making the easy and comfortable choice. I had been slogging my way through vet school for four weeks, studying 8 hours most days, because I couldn't take good enough as good enough.

My parents never taught me to be a good person; they expected me to be great.

Maybe this is the weight that rests on my shoulders. The weight that I can never quite manage to drop. Sisyphus rolling and rolling and rolling up the hill and down again and up again and down again. But I cannot accept to fail, to roll down the hill, so I start again, up and up and up.

I never thought I would make it this far. I expect to be crushed one day by this weight that pushes me down, by this feeling of never enough. It hasn't won yet, but I can't say for certain that I know the outcome, that I will reach the top of the hill. There are so many accomplishments that I could add to the list, not as impressive, but still important.

The stranger:

-got up today

-wiped the tears away

-didn't give up

-chose to be kind

If I could go back in time, I'd grab that little girl by the shoulders and tell her that it doesn't all rest on her, that it's okay to not be perfect, to not lead the most amazing life, to be happy with a dream and a cat and that the only things in life that matter are the ones you want to.

You can keep rolling the stone up the hill, stay stuck in the loop of the past. Try to set it down though, at the bottom, in the middle, even three-quarters to the top. Just set it down for a moment and see the view. See how far you've come. See the path you steps have worn into the earth. Maybe it'll roll all the way back down, and you'll feel the need to chase it, but it'll wait there at the bottom for you.

Try to set it down and then climb. Free yourself of the weight of your own expectations and see your accomplishments like you would a strangers. See them for what they are. Feel things for what they are. It's okay to be sad. It's okay to mourn the life you could have had and accept the path has changed. Enjoy the climb before it's over.

You are so much closer to the top than you realize.