It's no big secret, I sometimes have small depression issues.
Not anything huge, not anything to even worry about really, but sometimes I have them. I don't even know if depression issues is the right way to describe it. Maybe it's just the blues. But then again, when I finally decide that it's time for me to talk to someone again, they tell me something like, uhhhh excuse me miss, you really shouldn't have waited this long to come here, as I sit in a pile of kleenexes sobbing my brains out about what I thought was nothing.
Yep, thats me, the girl who walks into the therapist's office with it all pulled together & leaves with bloodshot eyes and a snot pouring out of her nose.
& I feel like it's time to head there again.
When you're my age, nobody really wants to talk about family issues & rightly so, they don't know what to say and most of the time, they can't relate.
Drew is one of those people. He doesn't get it. He has 2 grandparents on both sides, his family is all one piece, everyone gets together almost weekly for a football game or dinner. It's freakin' cookie cutter, man. & I'm happy for him for that, but I can't talk to him about my mostly dysfunctional family. & nobody else wants to hear it, why would they??
So it's time for me to make an appointment and talk to someone who has to at least pretend to care & who can hopefully tell me that I'm not a raging lunatic. Or maybe they'll tell me I am. Either way at least they'll listen.
I feel like if I write this, I'll be more likely to actually make the appointment and not just think that I don't need it when I feel fine in 2 days but the same issues are still there, just hidden.