Depression, cigarettes and apologies

I've started and stopped a lot of these. I think I have about seven draft posts saved on my computer from some point or another in these last few months. I cannot honestly come up with a good and valid reason why I have neglected writing, both recreational and for my "higher purpose", for so long.

I think, and this is a tentative idea, that I am finally rising out of the depression that has been encompassing me for the last few months. I am honestly unsure of what started it, or why it lasted so god damned long. I can say that it was (is?) one of the hardest depressions I've gone through since I was fourteen, and then seventeen, both during deeply traumatic times in my life. Nothing really traumatic has happened. I'm still living with my boyfriend, school and work are going as well as they can go, and there's no new argument with loved ones to spark such a thing.

Still, I found myself detached, crying, and just in a generally down and out mood for the last... ever, it seems. It felt like I was some kind of mechanical version of myself, going through all the motions while my actual self looked on in an emotional null. I was drifting, I wasn't all here, and the worst part about it is that I still don't quite understand why.

I continue, have continued, to go to therapy for these reasons, among others. The last three sessions have been devoted to trying to pull myself out of this slump and back into reality. It seems to have succeeded, for the most part.

Of course, somewhere in here, near the end when I stopped being depressed and started to break down emotionally, that I started to crave cigarettes. Crave them badly. Worse then ever, and it had been about 15 months since going cold turkey. I had not touched a single, solitary cigarette in fifteen long months, and though there were sometimes cravings, sometimes really bad ones, there had been nothing like this.

So, yeah, I did buy a pack of cigarettes last week. I took two drags off of one Marlboro Red and started coughing up a lung and wondering what the fuck I was doing. Of course, that wasn't the end. I did end up giving the pack of cigarettes to the boyfriend, who doused them in water, crumbled them up, and then threw them away. I did, however, purchase myself a fancy new e-cigarette (google it) which I am currently "smoking" away. So I'm back being a nicotine addict, but... I'm writing again. Here and in other places (not blogs), and my mood has improved drastically within the last week.

I will not attribute this all to the nicotine. Extensive therapy and a very understanding boyfriend have also played their (large) roles.

So I'm back again. Maybe on a more regular basis, though due to school and work I cannot promise a whole hell of a lot. I'm still trying to recover, I'm still trying to "find myself", I'm still trying to figure out how the hell to be a writer in the midst of having a real life.

While I was in this depression, though, I brooded on all of my past wrong doings. My therapist says this is perfectly normal for anyone suffering from depression to do, but I felt it would be even more therapeutic to spill my emotional guts to the internet community at large. Hey, you guys haven't let me down yet, right? :-)

Hrm, here goes:

- I'm sorry to all of those people and places that I used to steal things from. Among these are;

• The middle and high school cafeteria, who kept me up in little debbie snacks and cheeseburgers without knowing it
• My first job, where I constantly snagged those Lindt truffles from
• My second job... there are about six packs of cigarettes that I owe you. Sorry.
• The booths at the Ren Faire in Kansas City. I realize now how hard you worked to create the things that I stole. You guys are amazing, and because of people like me, you don't get everything that you deserve out of your craft.
• My family-- perhaps the easiest to steal from because you don't really expect it. I've stolen (and kept) much from all of you. Someday I'll come clean in person and hope that you can forgive me.
• Other, many forgotten, retailers. Now that I work in retail I realize how shitty it is to have someone walk into your store and steal something from you, when the product you have in stock goes to pay wages and overhead cost.

- To all of my friends and loved ones that I have lied to repeatedly. Sometimes I lie without really meaning to. Sometimes I lie and definately mean to. No matter what, most of these lies serve no purpose-- they are meaningless, petty lies designed to make me feel better about myself by fabricating a better life. But all that they do is harm our relationship, and that's really shitty of me.

- To Dixie (my first dog) and Maxwell (my cat), I'm sorry that I have raised fists in anger towards you. Animals are like children in that they are supposed to be loved and sheltered completely by their caregivers, and never be betrayed by them with feelings of hate. I am afraid that, once for Dixie and about four times with Maxwell, I have lost my temper and struck them. All of these times I was very young and did not know how to handle my anger, but that is not a fair excuse. I'm always going to feel sorry for the look they have cast on me, and for the way they have flinched afterward when I have tried to pet them. You can never really explain to an animal, or ask forgiveness, but I will say... I'm so sorry.

Lastly, on a very personalized note-- I'm very sorry to a certain blogger on here. You know who you are. I know that I should have the strength to just e-mail you, or even call or send a letter since I also have that information, but I'm kind of a wimp. I know that I must have hurt you, that I mistreated your kindness. Thoughts of you came up more frequently than any of the above apologies during this depression-- and don't think that I think about it just because I was depressed, I have though about it otherwise.

Anyway, I'm very sorry. You are a very kind, very loving person, and I hope that experiences with people like me will not change those traits. Sometimes I still have imaginings of us meeting and making a real friendship in person, but I'm almost ashamed to because of my behavior. Please know that I think of you and regret not treating you with the courtesy and respect that you deserve. You're a very kind and unique individual, and I am sorry for any pain that I may have caused you.

...

*le sigh*

So, there you go, 'internet community at large'. Just another rant from another anonymous person, trying to make sense of the senseless.

Yours always,

-Teigra-