Mental Health

Mental health in an unforgiving world. (Journal)

I am seething with hate right now. It seems like road blocks are consistent in my path of growth. So I’m free-writing right now. Your eyes are my journal.

I was diagnosed with clinical depression and social anxiety in 2018, around the same time I was attending Sam Houston State University for a Masters in Higher Education Administration.

I always felt like I had depression since high school, but the fact that it was set in stone was almost devastating for me. It was like a fresh start of crippling depression and I did not know how to fully handle it.

Because of this, I started to slip away in my performances of life: family duties, work duties, but especially school duties. If you have ever gone to a graduate program, you would know that generally you cannot make C’s and you only get so many chances before you are terminated from the program. Since I was diagnosed, I found myself struggling with professors and feeling the purpose of most work. Long story short, I was terminated for the program for too many C’s caused by things I will not discuss.

I will take part blame, but also, my recent diagnosis made a huge impact and I just felt like the program and the professors did not take that well into hand. I was accepted into the disability program on campus, which helped, but it could not stop the crushing blow of failure to crack my ribs. I appealed three times in a desperate attempt to remain in the program. My last appeal with in a room full of professors and administrators of a culture that knew nothing about mine and I felt every bit of that.

I’m now having issues in every way of enhancing my career in education, and it sucks because every time I try to breath above water, life tends to push my head back in. I’m drowning.

Just thinking about that, all of  the years of trying to find myself and my happiness, my worldview, and the way I see how people are treated and treat each other, it only enhances my anxiety. Not being able to shake the feeling of loneliness. Not being able go to a store without headphones or avoiding people at all costs. Going back home prematurely after leaving because I can’t deal with people at the moment.

I don’t want to leave my home. I don’t want to meet people. I don’t want anything to do with this society.

I am seething with hate, and drowning in hopelessness. I remain positive, but how many times will I have a palm on chest before I start breaking wrists? I have people that look up to me. I have people I look up to. I need to be strong for them. I need to be strong for myself. But damn.

Giving up is not an option. I’ve tried many times before and it never works. My drive precedes all doubt. But how can I operate in this cold world with this diagnosis? Self-Care? Meditation? Drugs? Therapy? Music? Jesus?

It’s a constant fight between light and dark in my head. I just want peace and happiness to come from the outside world, because every time I leave my home it feels like I’m walking into a jungle. Journal over. If you’ve felt the way I have, let’s talk.

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