This is Where I'm Honest

What better way to start off a blog post than with a lame, awkward introduction? Cause lame and awkward is what I do!

Hi, world. I'm Kelley. I'm a 17 year old with depression and anxiety. I've wanted to kill myself before, and I can't tell you how often I've wanted to hurt myself. I'm your stereotypical loner girl who doesn't really have any close friends, except those she's met over the internet.

I've tried writing this blog post more times than I can count. There's drafts of this on my Drive, uncompleted and shared only with my partner. Most of it starts now nice and concise, like this blog post has so far, then dissolves into a rambly, emotional mess. I never have the energy to finish them, much less clean them up and make them less...broken. I write the way I think. To try and edit that into a concise form removes the meaning of my words. Sterilizes them.

It's 1 in the morning and I don't even know if what I've written so far makes any sense. I've been talking on Twitter tonight to some lovely ladies about depression and anxiety. It's a conversation that, while relieving to finally have so openly, has left me a little frustrated. Because the stuff I tweeted about in that conversation is stuff I've been trying to put into a blog post for ages. Or, at least, convey to my mother face-to-face. That never happens, obviously. She still doesn't know why I'm so depressed and anxious sometimes.

And honestly, I don't even know why a lot of the time. I have no explanation for the gray clouds and the odd, awkward bouts of omg too much energy got to do something why won't everyone leave me alone why can't I do anything. It's a fucking roller coaster. I can go from wanting to cut myself and die in a hole to I have to do all the things otherwise I'm a shitty human being.

It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes any fucking sense anymore. Not the paranoia, the depression, the anxiety, the strange tendencies that I think are obsessive-compulsive disorder. It's scary to have none of it make sense, because if it doesn't make sense, how do I fix it? Is there any fixing it? Or do I just have to deal with this for the rest of my life and just cope to the best of my abilities?

I don't know what to do.

Believability With Fictional Characters and Depression

My novel (WIP), Prisoners of The Mind, has been an ongoing project all year. I wrote it for NaNoWriMo 2013, and then completely started over at the beginning of this year with it. My NaNo draft of it had no plot and it was an unholy (no pun intended) mess. xD Of course, I'm not on the same draft I started with in January. There have been lots of "false starts" that I've set aside. I can't count how many uncompleted versions I've set aside!

One of my main reasons for having restarted so many times is that I struggle with making the characters' actions believable. My four FMCs are in an alternative mental health institution and suffering from some pretty serious stuff (Abby and Keri are both diagnosed as schizophrenics, yet not the same kind, but that's for another blog post). While I have family members and friends who've suffered (and some who continue to suffer) from various mental illnesses, I still struggle with whether or not I'm portraying these illnesses correctly. I've done research, but I still worry. I don't want to romanticize it or completely misrepresent it (like I've seen done way too many times with dissociative identity disorder).

I myself have struggled with depression. Not just "oh I've had a bad day" kind of depression. I mean full-out, I hate myself and am completely inadequate kind of depression. While I won't go into why I've had these feelings, it's never been an easy thing to deal with. At 14 I wanted to cut myself, and at times I still do. I can't remember what particular thought/feeling triggered that urge. I told my mother that night, and while I completely advocate having a support buddy (because a lot of times it's kept me from taking drastic measures), part of me somewhat regrets telling her it that night. Or rather telling her when I was having an urge. She (unintentionally) made me feel uncomfortable about the whole thing. To this day I don't tell her when I want to cut or am feeling inadequate, etc. I have an online buddy whom I'll talk to, and that has saved me a lot of times from taking drastic measures. I am forever grateful for that friend.

Keri Lanier, one of my FMCs, is diagnosed with schizophrenia before she enters the institution. But she also has depression. A lot of times I find myself venting my feelings (past and present) through her. She is a lot like me, both in personality and what she is suffering from. This is therapeutic for me in so many ways, and I think that maybe since I'm putting so much real life experience into her, that she will be believable. I hope she is. Maybe too with venting through her, I can let go of some of my own angst, and hopefully come to love myself more.

I'm hoping to have this draft finished by December 31st. If I can get better with character believability (I have a beta reader and then another person who edits my chapters. They both give me excellent feedback on my story.), hopefully I can keep moving forward and meet my goal of having a completed second draft by December 31st!