My name is Kim Adams, and I’m 23 years old. I’m female, but I have some issues that I’m going to sum up as general genderqueerness. Sometimes I go by Kolya because of this, and because it sounds like a female name to American ears. (It’s not.)
I’ve been chronically depressed for my entire life, and while I don’t feel like anyone should ever have to express an ‘excuse’ for their depression, I’ve had many. Skipping over the sob story and keeping it brief I haven’t had a good life due to abuse and poverty.
The one thing I always made sure I had growing up, no matter what I had to do to get it, was a computer with internet. That wasn’t really hard growing up, because my dad would usually have one for family use. He’s always loved them, and even when we didn’t always have much else, we had a computer. I was pretty grateful for that, because it gave me an escape.
I used to have friends on the internet that I’d talk to every day. I wanted to talk every minute of every day, even though we’d never talk about anything important. A lot of the time, it was fandom or roleplaying stuff, because it was nice to put yourself in a different world where things couldn’t really hurt you and you had as much control over it as you wanted.
I still have one friend online who I try to talk to every day, but things have changed.
Over the past few years, I’ve realized that I don’t care about fandom and things like that. I don’t have time or the energy to. You can’t fake your way through life, and that sucks. Sometimes I still want to do things, or I still get interested, but it’s just a temporary source of entertainment. The truth of the matter is that the problems in my life are too deep set to run away from anymore.
Every day, I sit in my room with my door closed and locked and I go straight to my computer, assuming I get out of bed. Somehow, it’s still claimed a pretense of salvation when sites I once found haven in disgust me now. Sometimes I forget to eat, or make it through the day with hardly a nibble on anything. Sometimes I don’t take my medicine, because it only takes a small edge off and it costs too much to buy whenever I need it anyway. I can’t really afford to see the doctors and psychologists I’m supposed to see, and even the state ones still require transportation and a little money. They don’t really help that much anyway.
A lot of the time, I hate myself simply because this is all I do. Sometimes I force myself to do more, and then I crawl back to my room at the end of the day in tears and contemplate the right mix of pills and blood loss to stop being so miserable.
People tell you to get over it, or that you just have to stick it through, or that you’re a ‘late bloomer’. They’re wrong, because some things just don’t change. Nothing, no medicine or counseling or anything else, is going to make my problems go away. Chronic depression, generalized anxiety disorder, bi-polar disorder, dyscalculia, a general aversion to social interaction bordering on, but never quite enough to qualify on it’s own, as social anxiety disorder… Who cares? The list goes on and on, as is the list of medicines I’ve been on to fix or treat the various problems. The truth of the matter is that no combination of any medicines is enough to subdue it.
Now, poverty is really the thing that bites me in the ass time and time again, and a lot of people say it’s as easy to fix as getting a job. Maybe that’s true, but I’d still have to climb over a pile of problems to get there. I haven’t had a real, stable job since I was sixteen, but I got fired from that anyway. Really, I don’t have the motivation to work. I just don’t care. Some days it’s too hard to get out of bed, and pretty much always I’d be a lot happier with rotting away somewhere quiet. Guilt is a pain in the ass, because that’s probably the only thing that has me trying to fake the effort that I can’t muster up on my own.
It sucks that my Grandma cares enough to put a roof over my head and make sure that I have food and get to all these appointments, because I don’t really want or deserve it. I can’t really even tell her that; she denies that I have any problems that can’t be fixed. Meanwhile the rest of my family, either blissfully unaware or painfully apathetic, hardly speak to me. I’ve fallen out of contact with friends I once had, too, often avoiding my phone when I do get the rare text.
So anyway, my social contact boils down to pretty much one single person that I talk to via skype and websites like this. Rounding back to the reason I made this post… websites like this suck.
Reading posts about people bitching over their lives or work or whatever sucks. Reading ass-backwards opinions about things I’ve lived sucked. Hell, reading perfectly justified opinions on things suck. Being surrounded by fandom things reminds me of the escape that I can’t achieve anymore, and there’s just too much negativity for me to linger any longer.
Anyway, the point of the matter is that I won’t be using this tumblr anymore because it’s feeding into an already massive amount of negativity in my life. I’m hoping that I’ll eventually cut enough out to reach a point of stability in my life or to separate myself away from things to the point where I can just kinda fade out of the picture. So… uh. Bye.