I am fighting something

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:

  1. Join gym with boyfriend, exercise helps people feel better.
  2. Find a good therapist.
  3. Make a schedule for my week every week, try to do one important thing every day.
  4. Begin to live like a person again.
  5. Make things.
  6. Sell things.
  7. Apply for low commitment jobs that require the ability to make things.

So this is day 1 of my journey of indeterminate length.

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