My name is Cecelia, and something is wrong with me.
Precisely what it is has yet to be determined, but it’s some lovely cocktail of depression, anxiety, and depersonalization. I have this awful suspicion that it’s Borderline Personality Disorder, but I can’t diagnose myself so I’m going to go be diagnosed in the near future.
I have to keep a journal of some kind, and I like this kind.
Some days I wake up and I take a long time to realize I am actually me and actually awake and my legs do work and it is possible to leave the house because not everyone is looking at me. Some days I don’t realize all of those things on that list. Today for example is a difficult day for leaving, and it took me until noon to eat something because I felt my stomach hurt and realized that I was, in fact, actually awake and had been for 3 hours.
But then I have clear days, and I wake up without a problem, and I run errands, and I make things, and I go to auditions, and I live like people live.
Right now, you see, I’m not much of a person. People are alive, I am not quite.
I have to keep a journal of some kind, and I like this kind because sometimes I can write about my brain and my progress and sometimes I can put up pictures of the cake I made and It’s easy to let those things coexist here like they do in real life. I like to see my accomplishments juxtaposed with my anxiety because it reminds me that both happen and it’s normal.
When I am well I make things, and some of them are nice. I have plans to sell them. My plan goes like this:
- Join gym with boyfriend, exercise helps people feel better.
- Find a good therapist.
- Make a schedule for my week every week, try to do one important thing every day.
- Begin to live like a person again.
- Make things.
- Sell things.
- Apply for low commitment jobs that require the ability to make things.
So this is day 1 of my journey of indeterminate length.