Why blog?

I've tried to blog a couple of other times. You've probably read them. I always start with these grand aspirations of bestowing wisdom, or making insightful and scathing comments about the nature of humanity. But it always just devolves into whining.

This time, I'm going to be honest with you. The point of this blog is to whine.

Like I said in my first post, my life is really, really good. I am extremely blessed. But as I'm sitting here writing this, I feel smothered by a cloud of melancholy. For no reason! Other than the fact that my brain hates me.

I have depression and anxiety, which I control through medication. The medicine doesn't protect me from getting depressed. It protects me from having panic attacks in the work bathroom, from crying myself to sleep every night, from being so worn down that I can't even function.

I still feel terrible, but I am capable of doing my job and doing my chores while feeling terrible.

I also am kind of a hypochondriac and I have that impostor syndrome we millennials get. Despite the fact that I have both education and experience, I feel like a huge fraud. One day they're going to figure out how spectacularly unqualified and useless I am, and then it will all be over.

A long time ago, I realized that my biggest challenge in life would probably be overcoming myself. Forcing myself to be productive. Overcoming that stupid voice in my head that is constantly telling me how worthless I am. When something goes wrong, my immediate reaction is to think "I am a failure. I am the worst. I should not exist." Over the silliest mistakes!

I'm not trying to excuse my laziness or my obvious flaws. I have a lot of things I need to work on. But you know, I was #6 in my senior class of 600+. I graduated college at 21, and I never failed a class. I work more than 40 hours a week, doing jobs that I don't think I'm qualified for. But I do them. I work hard. I refuse to believe I'm just a loser.

And yet, I have a really hard time getting out of bed in the morning. I have to force myself up. This morning I cried because the prospect of getting out of bed seemed so daunting. It's not always this bad. Most days I'm fine. But in the winter, especially, and during certain times of the month, I have no energy. Wearing contacts instead of glasses feels like a big accomplishment. And I get really frustrated because I can't do the normal human things everyone else has no problem with. Thus, I struggle to cope with adulthood.

What's the point of saying all this? To inspire pity? To explain why I'm a flake/bad friend sometimes? To complain about how bad my life is, even though I know it isn't? To reach out to and help others who feel the same?

Honestly, I just need to get it out. This is completely and totally, 100% about me. Writing in a diary isn't as helpful, because it's still trapped inside of me...just in a different format. I need to let it out into the universe. I could get a therapist, but they cost money and ask questions. I could just complain to Matt, but I'm sure that get's old. I don't want to drown him in my negativity. I could call up one of my many friends who also experience anxiety and depression and commiserate with them, but I'm not really the kind of person who seeks someone out to complain to.

So I'm putting it here, on the internet. So there is a possibility that someone will hear me, but nobody is forced to listen. And there's even the possibility that someone will comment "Love you, Emily!" thus giving me the online validation I crave.

Much better than writing in a diary.

Also, if I keep up this blog, it's not always going to be this negative. I want to talk about my favorite books and movies and my cats and tell anecdotes about my life. I'm just having a really bad day today. But writing about it makes it a little better.