nickname.

My nickname is Mess.
This holds true for a variety of reasons. If you looked at my room right now, you'd see. When I look at my life, this is how I feel...messy.

I'm hurting. There are days when I'm fine and more than fine, and then it's like a switch goes off in my head and I'm down for the next few hours. Generally, getting some sleep really helps with that. Last night and this morning, it hasn't. I woke up cramping, with a headache, and unable to remove myself from my bed. There are mornings when I jump out of bed--like most weekdays--because it's the only way I'm going to survive the whole day. And then there are days like this, where the hardest part of my day, my biggest struggle, is getting out of my bed. I haven't conquered this yet. My window's open at least, and I tentatively have plans to hang out with Jenna in a few hours outside. Something about the sunshine and the summer is just really good for my soul.

The more I think about it, the more I realize what factors went in to making the past 24 hours harsh. 1) PMS. 2) Genetic predisposition. 3) Wine in excess. 4) Being alone. 5) The past three days of clouds and rain. I know I'm not perfect, and that there is nothing that I can't overcome (I think...), but I also know that sometimes, especially when it comes to happiness, I have a slightly steeper angle to climb than others. Mine's less steep than those of some other people as well, and I also need to keep this in mind.

I struggle with perspective. One little thing can seem like end of the world to me. I think I've used my depression...in attempting to get out of it, I've needed help, and when people aren't giving me what I percieve that I need, I become more depressed, and therefore people are more apt to change their plans and go out of their way to help me. Wow, that was hard to admit.

I don't know when this is going to end. Most days, I think it won't. I'm not sure how to start thinking that it will...and that is where the bane of my existance--well--exists.