A year of firsts

Typically when I start a new blog, I’m manic. This year, however, is a year of firsts. Below is a list of some that have occurred since the start of 2018.

  • Broke a bone. Ironically, on the first day of the year. Spent two weeks on crutches.
  • Lost a best friend, made a new one, and then lost that one too.
  • Blacked out from alcohol. On a Monday. This became a regular occurrence.
  • Tried Klonopin. Downed it with vodka. See above.
  • Flunked a semester at school.
  • Fell into a depressive episode after a year and a half of stability.

The last one is why for the fifth or twenty-fifth time, I am starting a blog. RIP to all the hours of hovering over my computer until sunrise, frantically messing with HTML on yet another Tumblr account of mine. Sleep is not part of a manic brain’s vocabulary. Man, do I miss her though.

Depression, like cheap red wine, is one sneaky bitch. You’ve been doing alright for some time when suddenly you don’t even care about the things you love, your Prozac stops working, and you wake up with a pounding headache because you slept 12 hours last night and missed all of your classes. And maybe a physics quiz. You wouldn’t know since you haven’t checked the syllabus in weeks.

My room, once spick-and-span, now drowns in dirty clothes and empty plastic cups. Laundry has been on my to-do list since mid-November. The walk to the laundry facility across from my apartment now exhausts me. I no longer eat. When I do, it’s thanks to the Domino’s pizza delivery guy who most likely now knows my name, as does the Starbucks barista who occasionally treats me to the pumpkin spice lattes I consider meals. I drink one as I write this.

I don’t know how to end this and I’m not sure if this blog will end up in the graveyard with my others. Maybe instead it will end up on my list of firsts.