Crazy me

When the day started out, I was full of fear. You see, I have struggled with depression my entire life, to some degree or another. When I was a teenager, I constantly wished I was dead, and the only thing that held me back was the idea that something better might happen tomorrow. Tomorrow could've been the turning point, and if I kill myself today, I'll miss it. As I approached my twenties, my depression grew worse and worse. When I was 19, I planned to kill myself twice. Once I realized I didn't have enough of the right kind of drugs to finish the job, so I didn't try, and the second time, I was really going to do it, but my boyfriend recognized something in my eye and stopped me, quite literally, in the nick of time. I never again had that kind of resolve, but my problems didn't go away. I started to feel as if I wasn't me, like I was watching this girl Margie from a short distance away all the time. I was completely detached. I would watch her do crazy self destructive things and wonder why. I would shake my head in an emotionless evaluation saying to myself that that girl really needed some help. I would put on her makeup in the morning and make it darker and weirder every day, hoping that someone would see that she wasn't right and help her. She spent most of her time laying on the couch, cause she didn't want to do anything, but she went to work because it gave her money so that she could buy alcohol. Alcohol helped her forget herself and escape for a little while. Sometimes people would come drink with her or talk with her or fuck her, and she tried to pretend that she was enjoying all that and that she was normal. She felt bad that her friends were suffering because of her, but she couldn't see any way out. Whenever she did anything, she would see two scenarios in her head: the right, polite, normal version, and the OTHER version. For example, when she crossed the street, she would see herself waiting for all the cars to pass, and then herself carefully crossing after looking both ways, and she would also see herself stepping out right in front of the biggest truck on the street. Whenever she helped a customer, she would see herself answering their questions politely and accurately, and she would see herself grabbing them and smashing their brains out on the counter. Etc. One day, I couldn't tell which one was the real one and which one wasn't. That's when I decided that I had to re-enter my body and take the situation into my own hands. I got help. I went to therapy. I didn't get on medication right away, cause I wouldn't stop drinking, and antidepressants and alcohol don't mix. I left school. I got on antidepressants, and they didn't help. I decided I had to do what I had to do, and took my mental health into my own hands. When I got pregnant, my depression went away. Not completely, of course, but it got a lot better. Then when I was converted to Mormonism-that was the real turning point. Yes, I know I was baptised when I was eight, but I had to be converted myself. It was all better after that. As they say, I found God, and he took away my suffering. Isn't that what the propaganda says? Unfortunately, that only seems to have been a temporary fix. As everybody knows, all summer, I've been having some problems with being down sometimes. It's actually not this summer. This has been going on for about a year, and it's been getting steadily worse. I have found myself for the past few weeks thinking about how much I wish I were dead, but things might get better tomorrow. I've been on that ride before, and I really don't care to repeat it. I have felt as if black tendrils of depression have been curling into my brain, and they are twining themselves deeper and further in everyday. I felt hopeless and helpless this morning when I went through my morning routine. Don't worry, although I joke about it, I'm not thinking about killing people just yet, I just have a macabre sense of humor.
Then at church, something interesting happened. Brother McFall sat down by me and started to talk to me. He asked me a question about dating or something, and I said I don't date because men don't like me. He told me stories about how the difference between successful people and failures is attitude. He started talking about how the universe vibrates and our minds can change things. He said that our minds don't know the difference between real things we think, and the things we make up, and the universe doesn't either. He said that I should everyday tell myself over and over that I am attractive and that men love me and want to be with me. He said it may take six months to a year, but the universe will start to believe me and that men will start approaching me. He said it works with other things, too. He said that his business was bad, and he started saying to himself that he was a great contractor and that people want to hire him. He told me that within three months he had to hire more help to keep up with all the calls. He said he tells himself that he is wealthy and now he always has money to spare. He says that if you convince your brain of these things, the universe will adjust itself to your reality. Now, I don't know if I believe all that, but Josh has told me before that I should do positive affirmations, and it seems like this is basically the same thing. I don't really think the universe will adjust to me, but I think if I could convince my brain that I am attractive and fun and, most of all, not crazy, that maybe things really could change for me. If only Josh had explained it so convincingly! :) Maybe things really could be better tomorrow. Now, of course, I'm gonna have to find new friends because I've revealed to all these just how crazy I am, but maybe I can get a positive affirmation for that, too.
Also, Brother Christopher was sitting nearby, and he said he really doesn't understand it, that if he were single he would ask me out. I thought that was nice.