It's ok, I am really not at all easily offended. I always think it's funny when people say something along the lines of "maybe if you weren't such a stupid bitch" anonymously and then when they get called a troll they go off on this thing about how I call anyone who isn't singing my praises a troll - it's like, no. Not at all. I call anyone who is unwilling to have a respectful discussion and anonymously talks pointless insults without any additional input a troll. I'm pretty open about and ok with having flaws here.
Anyway, I think that I just had normal hormonal highs and lows as a teenager - if anything I kept it together surprisingly well considering the tumultuous nature of my life. I mean I was a middle schooler who performed with a drama group and participated in haunted houses and had a big group of friends and was obsessed with music, and a high-schooler making As in AP classes, with a part time job that I used to save up and buy my own car/pay insurance, who taught Sunday School classes and traveled with a Youth Ministry Committee. I did a lot of leadership stuff, and spent much time talking in front of groups. I wrote a lot of poetry and voluntarily pursued free counseling for things that happened to me as a younger kid, and took care of my cat and talked on the phone for many hours at a time, and planned for my future. My journals from those years are full of things like, "I feel like a philodendren in this flowing green dress, I spent 5 minutes just spinning in the courtyard during lunch, in a sun shower" and "Jess and I spent the whole afternoon talking with teachers about the documentaries they want to show next week" and a neverending list of things I thought were hilarious.
There were bad times, but they were reactionary (I was sad when my mom moved away and left me. I was scared when my stepfather abused my little brother. I cried in counseling as we worked through my molestation) and not the formless, indefinite sadness that comes with depression.
I remember being ANGRY very rarely - screaming on behalf of the abused brother once, aghast and ready to talk shit because my best friend was keeping drug use from me years later, stuff like that. I was never violent or destructive. I would argue with my Nana sometimes but I think that was because she was drunk most nights, and I didn't want to have to be living with her to begin with. For the most part I did all my assigned chores and suffered through her rules and enjoyed that they had a pool and played oldies all the time.
I've never been on any kind of psych meds.
My mom is depressive, I have always known this and she's been on and off various anti-depressant and anti-anxiety meds for the last...17 years, I guess. She's never been willing to get counseling, exercise, eat well, DO THINGS, make friends, etc, with or without the meds, and makes consistently self-sabotaging life decisions. My brother is also depressive as well as deeply emotionally immature, and has been on an SSRI.
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Anyway, I think that I just had normal hormonal highs and lows as a teenager - if anything I kept it together surprisingly well considering the tumultuous nature of my life. I mean I was a middle schooler who performed with a drama group and participated in haunted houses and had a big group of friends and was obsessed with music, and a high-schooler making As in AP classes, with a part time job that I used to save up and buy my own car/pay insurance, who taught Sunday School classes and traveled with a Youth Ministry Committee. I did a lot of leadership stuff, and spent much time talking in front of groups. I wrote a lot of poetry and voluntarily pursued free counseling for things that happened to me as a younger kid, and took care of my cat and talked on the phone for many hours at a time, and planned for my future. My journals from those years are full of things like, "I feel like a philodendren in this flowing green dress, I spent 5 minutes just spinning in the courtyard during lunch, in a sun shower" and "Jess and I spent the whole afternoon talking with teachers about the documentaries they want to show next week" and a neverending list of things I thought were hilarious.
There were bad times, but they were reactionary (I was sad when my mom moved away and left me. I was scared when my stepfather abused my little brother. I cried in counseling as we worked through my molestation) and not the formless, indefinite sadness that comes with depression.
I remember being ANGRY very rarely - screaming on behalf of the abused brother once, aghast and ready to talk shit because my best friend was keeping drug use from me years later, stuff like that. I was never violent or destructive. I would argue with my Nana sometimes but I think that was because she was drunk most nights, and I didn't want to have to be living with her to begin with. For the most part I did all my assigned chores and suffered through her rules and enjoyed that they had a pool and played oldies all the time.
I've never been on any kind of psych meds.
My mom is depressive, I have always known this and she's been on and off various anti-depressant and anti-anxiety meds for the last...17 years, I guess. She's never been willing to get counseling, exercise, eat well, DO THINGS, make friends, etc, with or without the meds, and makes consistently self-sabotaging life decisions. My brother is also depressive as well as deeply emotionally immature, and has been on an SSRI.