Living with PDD (or dysthymia, whatever)

It's weird. One day, I was just an innocent child playing dolls with my little brother. The next, I'm trying to kill myself. Maybe it's not as straight forward as I think, at least that's what my therapists have told me. they dissected my childhood, I can barely think about being 5 before I get lightheaded, the trauma trying to shovel it's way out of my mind, my brain doing it's best to contain it. It wasn't a sharp turn into darkness, I took a few detours. It's funny to think one day you just wake up tired of life, but it's not even that. I was just tired. Sometimes I still am tired. Sometimes I am so fucking exhausted I just want to retreat to the little boroughs, all three: separation, anxiety, my best fucking friend, depression. God, it's always felt so cliche to talk about my depression. Being diagnosed at 12 by the stupid Russian woman, horrid excuse of a woman, only for the pretty Hispanic lady to call it, "persistent". She was better than the Russian woman, called me, "childish" and "lazy". Said all my problems steamed from my mother and her, "inability to speak English in America" . Fuck off, speak to me when you lose your accent and speak better English than me. This isn't what this piece is about, sorry. Around 14/15 is when it started to really take a hold of me. I kept trying, kept failing. In some ways I'm really glad I failed. Other times, it's hard to tell myself I'm proud of myself. Think about it, 8 years of trying so hard to get rid of depression only to fall into a three year depression in early adulthood. This time was different. It's been three years straight. Three whole years. It wasn't like before where sometimes it would come to wrap its arms around me for a few weeks, catch the bus to bumblefuck, take a mini vacation, only to come back to lay with me. No. Three persistent fucking years. Do you know what qualifies you for PDD? Two persistent years along with some other symptoms of depression, gotta have those three things. Yeah, I may be oversharing here, but until you tell me your problems, I'll keep my two symptoms quiet, or, as quiet as an over sharer can. Who would've though, abusive relationships, mental mind fucks by those I've loved, deceit, separating myself from my father (don't worry, you don't get to ear about my daddy issues just yet), and I'm not cured yet? Almost like I'm not deserving enough to be healthy. Almost like I've done something to deserve the shit thrown at me. Its not all bad. The last three years have been the best and worst years of my life thus far. I have both wanted to jump as well as live in the moment forever. I don't think I'll ever be happy, but the difference today than today a year ago, I know I deserve it regardless of whatever shit is being thrown at my face, whatever tries to rip the rug under me, I always have something that's going to catch me fall; even if it's the concrete floor. It's taken so many things for my life to come here. Few brushes with death, we almost tango'd under the streetlight, he called it off like a loser. Couple of bus rides, a train or two, and here I am. I still wake up to nightmares, scared, worried, full of un-diagnoised anxiety, but the difference between then and now, I'm not really interested in losing everyone. I want to see my friends have their kids, do you know how fucking awesome it'll be when one of them called me, "Tia"? Or when I finally pursue what I love most, maybe get a degree or three, and just live? I've spent years waiting to get better; personal trainers, therapy, love, art, music, painting, hurting, crying, waiting. I wasn't fucking living. I had to find ways to make myself feel wanted and useful. to myself. I've been living for others and the way others wanted me to and it's soooo dreadful. You can never get better thinking about others. I have to be selfish. I have to do things for myself. Days feel faster, I feel like I'm smiling more, more interactive. Today, I spent 15 minutes talking to an old man at work. He kept laughing and was worry free in the moment. Today, a little 3 year old asked me in the cutest, most grown up baby voice, "excuse me-" "please" "thank you!" and I melted. I want to live for more moments like these. I want to make the elderly laugh, I want to talk to the woman who just got married and had a purple wedding in the middle of a pandemic.