Depression

I think I finally need to admit something to myself. I’ve been fighting it for a long time. However, a friend brought up last night that they think I could have clinical depression. I know that isn’t an earth-shattering thought considering my struggles with the ED, but I guess it never really sank in that I am experiencing a major bout with depression. I have become so good at lying, but I think I have I have become the best at lying to myself.

I went online and looked up diagnostic criteria for clinical depression. Sadly, I pretty much meet every single one of them. For months now, I have had extreme difficulty concentrating at work. I will, quite literally, stare at my computer screen with a sort of paralysis. I know I have about 50 things on my To-Do list, but I cannot make myself care to work. I can sleep for 6 hours or 12 hours and I wake up feeling like I’ve barely slept at all. I don’t care about many of the things I used to. I don’t particularly relish the idea of being around people. For anyone that knows me, that is very unusual. I have feelings of extreme guilt. I blame myself for everything. I think I don’t deserve to be happy. I feel hopeless. I’ve flirted with using prescription drugs to dull everything else. I have reliance on over-the-counter sleeping pills. I can’t wait to go home so I can attempt to sleep. And then, to make it all worse, when I feel really bad, all I want to do is eat and then throw it all up. I get frequent headaches and joint aches. And I just feel so damn tired all of the time. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I can’t stand to feel like this so I don’t give into it. I hate the idea of going and sitting in someone’s office and having them “diagnose” me and make it a reality. I hate seeming weak. I hate seeming like I can’t deal with my problems. I hate thinking that I could be one of the masses with “depression.” Sometimes the very concept seems so…so…ridiculous to me. Yet, here I am sitting here, avoiding work, feeling hopeless and wanting to go home, crawl into bed and sleep. Very little makes me happy. I have been sitting here for nearly 2 hours and accomplished nothing. And I have no desire to accomplish anything. That in and of itself should be the biggest red flag because I am so competitive in a normal state. I live to accomplish.

I really need to get into see a doctor. Just suck it up and admit I have a serious problem. Ugh! I hate this. I really do.

Dwelling On Being Adopted

I am not entirely sure why my mind is dwelling on the fact that I am adopted. I have a special frustration because not only am I adopted, but my birth-mother is also adopted as well. Whereas some adopted children receive some closure and resolution, and at the very least history once they find their birth-mother, I get nothing beyond finally getting to connect with my birth-mother and the joy of discovering I have two half-siblings.

When I go to the doctor and people ask for a medical history, I get to smile and answer that I am adopted and I do not know any part of my medical history. They give a "look" back in frustration and move on down their chart. Some ask me if I have a medical record of my birth mother and again I get to smile and reply that she is adopted too. I can almost see in their eyes that they want to throw their hands up in frustration over the issue.

Some might read this and think that it isn't too unusual for a child to be adopted anymore and that our schools and doctors, etc... should have more understanding. This is a valid argument, however, many adoptions done nowadays are open adoptions. Some go as far to have the adopted parents in the room with the birth-mother as she is giving birth. Information is freely shared between adopted parents and birth-mothers throughout the child's upbringing fostering a healthy relationship to both sides.

My adoption was closed. My adopted parents didn't know anything beyond very, very basic information about my birth-mother. Everything was done through an agency and the state. Although my parents shared the fact that I was adopted as soon as I was old enough to understand, they struggled with the fact that when I was 19, I went on a search to find out what I could about my birth-parents. Seriously, like I was going to "leave them" in favor of a birth-mom that I had, up until that point, virtually no knowledge about. Our country's attitude towards adoption has fostered this fear on all sides concerning having a relationship with both the natural parents and the adopted parents. It is truly sad. I am both a product of nature and nurture. Neither side can claim total responsibility for "me."

I am blessed, however, to have a birth-mom that welcomes me contacting her for any reason and who wants to be as active in my life as I will let her.

Why It's Great To Be A Bastard

I found a very interesting site all about the history of adoption. It contains several informational research and resources about and for adopted children. In one section was a funny article about why its great to be adopted. It is meant to be humorous. I wanted to post some of my favorites.

2. We have more names than most people.
5. We get to go on this nifty epic search for our roots
6. We develop great research skills.
7. We learn to cut right through the bullshit.
8. We can moonlight as P.I.s
10. Some of our “life stories” would make great movies of the week.
11. When someone says, “Hey, you bastard!” we can just smile and say, “Yo.”
12. Cheap health insurance by leaving “family medical problems” blank.
14. Whenever an a-parent does something idiotic, the knowledge that there is no genetic relationship.
20. We can't get arrested for marrying our 1st cousins
21. Hell!! We can't get arrested for marrying our sister or brother for that matter!!
22. I am a bastard. I am proud of being a bastard. I am not the product of some 3 minute routine baby-making session between two cookie-cutter suburban twits. I am the product of lust and self-gratifying passion. I like that. It makes me feel special.
24. IF we find our birth family we have the chance of having TWO great families!!!
25. If we find our birth family we have a chance of having TWO crappy families!!!!
26. If we find our birth family we have the chance of having ONE great family and ONE crappy family!!!
27 You get to hear *How does that make you feel?* more often than a psychotherapy patient, but you don't have to pay $90 an hour.
28. We get to hear chirpy little twits constantly tell us,“You weren't expected you were selected”
34. You can eat any strange food you wish, and claim it as ethnic and healthful for your people. 35. You can be glad that you did not inherit the mental illness that runs in your adoptive family.
36. You truly have every reason to ponder your navel.
47. You have your own personal Can Of Worms to open despite all warnings!
49. You can laugh at the pseudo bastards when they tell you how much you look like your aparents.
50. When everyone else is running away from the skeletons in their closets; you get to run towards them in your search.
57. You can read the delightful children's book “Are You My Mother” and cry.
58. You can read the delightful children's book “Horton hatches an Egg” and cry.
64. You can warn those around you that you are probably a “bad seed” and might, therefore, snap at any time. . . .
76. You get to see all the nifty faces people make when trying to act casual after you have told them that you're adopted.
77. You always have a reason to be depressed.
79. When caught with a dumb look on your face it can be explained away as simply pondering your roots, true identity, or other related topics.

My personal favorite experience that isn't on this list is being amused at the science teacher trying to figure out what to do with me during the genetics section of the class. Typically, the teacher would send her students forth to research their background so as to determine where all of our nifty little traits came from (e.g. What color eyes do my parents have so we can grid them to see how I got my blue eyes.) And I swear, this stupid project happened every 2 years throughout my entire school years. Anyway, it was always this ordeal to find a different but comparable project for me to do since I was adopted. Some teachers were better than others, but one just told me to do my adopted family. Seriously, how is that going to help me??? All she did was make me feel inferior. Oh well.

Lack of Introspect

I have been rather lazy and complacent recently. I haven't felt terribly bad. I have gotten to the point where I usually only have 1-2 days per week that I throw up. Now granted, this might happen 2-3 times in that day, but that is considerably less than before. I haven't been in to see a therapist in two months and I can really tell. I also have "successfully" procrastinated getting myself into a doctor to get checked out physically. It is so tiring to deal with so, in some respects, I'd just rather not deal with it at all. Plus, other than one person, no one asks me about it. People feed you this line of bullshit when you first tell them about your problem that they care and will check up on you and do whatever it is you need them to do...and then they never follow-up. I'm not the personality to ever really ask for help so, of course, I don't communicate with them about it either. The other course of non-action is to just pretend like it doesn't exist. Or to say lame things like, "You look so good" everytime that person sees you. Like telling me I look good is going to magically make it go away.

Everyone is very comfortable again. It is kind of pissing me off. I'm still not okay, but everyone is moving along like I am. Okay. I'm ranting now and this isn't turning into a constructive post whatsoever. Everything about my life is just plain irritating me right now. I know, what an ungrateful bitch I sound like. Ugh.

Religion and such

Does God cause things to happen or does he let things happen? Is it to "teach us lessons?" Or maybe shit just happens? Maybe there are just bad people and bad things in the world? Does God sit up there with puppet strings? *sigh* Just pondering the larger questions in life after an argument with my mom over whether God fixed the DVR just in time for a football game. Stupid, stupid. Like I need to argue or be upset over such a trivial topic...especially at my dad's birthday dinner. GOOOOO TIMING!