This entry represents the 100th entry for “The Storyteller Chronicles”. *Cue the sound of noisemakers, the balloon drop, and streamer*. Ahem, right.
Frankly, I’m a little surprised that I stuck with it this long. I guess I forgot how fun it is to write–I knew I had stories to tell, I just didn’t expect them to be my own.
I’ve had a couple of things on my mind–I got some news today about an extended family member that has to potential to be devastating–but we really won’t know anything until at LEAST tomorrow, and my mom is cautioning me to not panic (really? Does she KNOW her family?) I’ve wondered if I should talk about that, but I’ve decided to wait until we know more.
I’m also planning on going to the Gem Faire with Sis tomorrow. I know I don’t have any money to spend, but–pretty sparklies! I thought about waiting to post about that, but I also realize that it has the potential to be a dud–at least as far as writing about it goes.
So, for my 100th post, I’ve decided to balance out the depressed post of this morning by talking about the ways that this blog has helped me, mostly in ways that I never expected.
I knew that blogging would help me go start writing again, and this blog has done that is spades. My fiction is lacking, but I’m more motivated to work on it. “The Storyteller Chronicles” also helped me to remember that writing is FUN. Yes, it’s difficult at times, but the joy that comes when I see other people enjoying something that I’ve done, a story that I had to tell, more than makes up for it.
This blog has helped me deal with my depression. Yes, I started soon after changing anti-depressants, but I don’t think that the medication would have been as effective if I didn’t have an outlet for my feelings. I try to minimize the uber-depressed posts, but frankly, for my sanity, I need them.
With starting a blog, I also discovered the joys of the blogroll. This has also helped me to feel more connected–depression is by a wide margin the most prevalent mental illness, but the nature of the beast is to make the sufferer feel utterly alone in the disease. Logically, ever since I was told about my depression as a teenager, I’ve know that there are millions, if not billions, of other people in the world dealing with the exact same issues that I am, but I still felt alone in my suffering. This blog has helped me open up about the beast, as well as come into contact with other people also dealing with depression. The camaraderie I have felt from people I have never met is enormous.
This blog (and Facebook) has also helped me to come out of my shell. I’ve been communicating thoughts, ideas and opinions that I’ve had for years, but have been too shy to share. My sister even commented recently that I got a dig on a friend’s husband, who I didn’t even know–something I would have never dreamed of doing a couple of years ago, even if I thought of the joke.
This has spilled over into real life. I’ve become friendlier, and more outgoing. Keeping my eye out for stuff to write about has also made me more observant as far as the people around me, I’m more likely to notice, say, a new hairstyle or new clothes on friends and acquaintances, where before I’d be so wrapped up in my misery that such things would pass me by.
I felt like my 100th post kind of snuck up on me, but having reached this milestone, I’m confident that I’ll reach 200, 500, and even more.
Thanks for sticking with me. I feel pretty confident in saying that the best is yet to come.
I’ve been up for an hour and a half, and I can already tell that this is going to be a terrible day.
The drive home from my parent’s house yesterday was awful–emotionally I mean, traffic and weather were quite good. But I did have to pull over at one point and just sob.
I wrote something last night, then deleted it because I knew that I was uber-depressed, and I’d feel better in the morning. Well, I’m not feeling better.
This is definitely the worst funk I’ve been in since starting the Lexapro. It doesn’t help to know that the cause of this particular depression is my own damn fault.
I’ve been thinking about trials, and love a lot lately. Not so much romantic love (although, that would be nice) but the love between a parent and a child, or between God and man. (The English language is woefully lacking words to describe these different kinds of love.)
I realized when I was in the temple the other day that everything that God does is out of love–and yes bad things happen, but that doesn’t mean He doesn’t love us. Trials help us to grow–and become strong. In theory, anyway.
If I could be rid of my depression, I would be, but a loving Heavenly Father knows that in learning to live with it, I will become the person that I need to be. It’s a bit trite to repeat that everything happens for a reason, but I absolutely believe it to be true.
I’m rambling. I should stop.
Anyway, I know things will turn out. I know the result will be better than anything I can imagine–both in this life and in the next, but sometimes it’s hard not being able to see the end from the beginning.