On Why I Came Home

If you keep up with me on social media or talk to me, you know I don't mind telling you I have problems with depression and anxiety. But I don't always talk specifics because I don't want you to worry or because I'm not comfortable talking to you specifically about it or because I don't know how.

In Arizona, I had the first two problems with pretty much everyone. It was hard, living in a place where everything and everyone was essentially brand-new and nothing seemed to be working out. Things got worse for me when I got a job, as they do. Even though I liked my job, my employer, and it wasn't difficult, I was paralyzed by my emotions and couldn't work. And then the family I was staying with left for vacation. It is not good for Brooke to be alone, especially when she also needs to be working from the big empty space she's occupying for you.

I didn't feel better when they got back, either. I had had too many meltdowns in one week and started to spiral quickly. My mom called on Thursday, asking if I wanted to come home and that she and my dad could be in Mesa on Saturday. I jumped at the chance to go somewhere familiar and safe and get to a new counselor (and hopefully a new primary care doctor). We got back late Saturday night after dealing with some issues with my car's engine.

I'm still in a bad place. I don't want to do much of anything--not even watch a movie. I'll get mad at you if you tell me to do things I know will make me feel better because I can barely bring myself to take a shower and get dressed without being bugged to do it for half an hour first (and I'll find ways around your intent by taking showers that burn and wearing pajamas all day). I'm not suicidal, but dying by other means doesn't sound so bad, but then I feel bad for feeling that way because everyone else would be sad and because then my parents would have to pay too much to bury me. I guess that's better than three years ago when the only thing keeping me from my going through with my plan was not wanting to let my overseas bosses down.

Between now and going back to school I want to focus on recovery. Or want to want it, depending on the day. My problems make it hard for me to be around, especially now that the only things I can really focus on very long are things that are generally very serious and make me angry. But if you can handle it, please stick around for the good days or moments. I don't want to be alone. My problems also make it hard for me to be the kind of friend you need me to be and I want to be for you. I'm so sorry and I will keep trying.

Anyway, that's the scoop. I feel awful and have no plans to work anytime soon because I've become so ill.