2018 was a hot, wet, steaming pile of shit, and I’m glad that it’s over. Happy New Year guys!! What a way to kick off the new year, in true Olivia fashion, with a taste of some depressing shit! Now I could sit here, a full 4 days into 2019 (I’m writing this on the 4th in case you all can’t do math, or think that I can’t) and do a 2018 year in review, but honestly 2018 was mostly just pain and boredom in that order. Sure, a few good things happened in there, like my niece was born, my best friend got married, and I finally moved into an apartment BY MYSELF literally for the first time in a fucking decade. I also have to admit that I had a pretty damn good summer, even though it was way too fucking short as usual, but living in the Canadian prairies, what the hell else is new? But, because I am me, for all the good things that had happened last year, it’s the pain of the fallout from the whole Henry debacle, and my various other relationship fails that have put a huge toxic, sad cloud over the entire year.
I feel like despite the fact that I’ve tried kinda hard (although not really) to hide as much of the real me as possible, you all have seen a side of me that not a lot of people in my real life see. It’s the only time where the anonymity of the internet is actually a good thing; I can tell you things about myself and my life from behind a computer screen (or through my phone) and its not nearly as scary as saying these things out loud to the people in my real life. And for all the parts of me that I try to hide, I think you have gotten a pretty decent idea of who I really am.
You guys see the one side of me far more than the rest of my world tends to see. Here I get vulnerable, and tell you the stories of my hardest times and saddest days. I post about the days when I’m not doing so good. The days when it takes all I’ve got to not randomly burst into tears while rocking a baby at work, or the days I can’t bring myself to do the one hobby I love more than anything, or the days when I find nothing at all funny, and no one can make me smile. Those days I don’t talk about out loud, so very few people in my life know how often these come about.
I have been lucky in the sense that besides a couple of super shitty breakups these last few years, I haven’t really suffered too many life altering setbacks. And yet, I’m sad far more often than not. I mask it of course, I make joke upon joke about the misadventures of my life while slowly dying a little on the inside. I force the tears to stay in my face until I’m alone, I pull myself together in bathrooms and closets even, and I constantly remind myself that things could always be worse. Which is true, it could be, but what a garbage way to stigmatize my own ailment. I have depression. It’s as simple as that. I have been this way since my teen years but until earlier this year I’ve never been able to actually admit it. It’s a hard enough thing to say quietly to oneself, but to openly admit it, out loud, is a whole other ball game.
Shocker, I know. I’m guessing that any of you who have been following me and reading these for some time wouldn’t be surprised at all by this revelation. The posts that have always done the best on this blog have been my more depressing stories. You people just love to join me in my misery. And I’m sure a few of you had diagnosed me long before I diagnosed myself.
I’m also lucky that I have parents who have been there in every which way for me when I’ve needed it. I have a few really good friends that I know always have my back, and will always take me on good days and bad. And I’m so very lucky for one friend in particular, who about two years ago contacted me out of the blue after seeing a Facebook post of mine that was more sad than I thought it was, and he texted me to see if I was ok on a night that I most definitely was not doing ok.
If any of you out there guessed that that friend was Erik, you win a billion dollars. That day was a particularly low point. Do any of you remember a handful of posts ago when I said that Erik and I had discussed the insane idea to have a child together if our lives didn’t end up panning out eventually? Well that was the conversation that started with a text message from him, saying he was concerned about me. That text message interrupted a very sad and sobbing me, who was on the couch staring at a blank screen of nothing on my TV and a brain that was wondering if I had enough Tylenol and cold meds in my medicine cabinet to put me to sleep forever.
I don’t know if I would have actually done anything that night, but luckily I’ll never know for sure one way or another. When I needed it the most, as if by some fucked up divine intervention, he messaged me, and stayed on the phone texting with me for the next 3 or 4 hours. Erik literally saved my life that night, just by being a friend. Say what you will about our fucked up friendship/whatever the hell it has been, but I will always love him in one way or another for being there for me when I was at my absolute worst.
I would love to say that that day 2 years ago was the turning point, and that I’ve been on the upswing since. I haven’t. Some weeks are better than others, but this past year, after what happened with Henry, everything has been difficult. It’s been very hard these last 365 days to see any light whatsoever. I dwell on the bad like it’s my motherfucking job, and it’s been the absolute fucking worst.
Dating has proved to be where the difficulty is just cranked up to a thousand. I dated quite a bit last year after Henry, and nothing ever lasted, for any and every reason under the sun. I’m currently in a relationship, and have been for the last 4 months, but it’s not working either, for a few different reasons, and I’m constantly wondering if the problems we are having are just in my head, or if we really just aren’t right for each other. Which fucking blows, cause if it weren’t for our individual issues we would be the perfect match. But I just can’t see a future with him, and it breaks my heart. Another year, another guy I care about, another guy who I probably shouldn’t be with.
I wish I could end this on a positive note. With a joke, or a positive spin, or any hope whatsoever. But I just don’t know if I can do that. I feel broken, and I miss the person I was a few years ago. I wish I could get her back. I miss her.
Anyways, I hope you all have a better 2019 than I probably will!