I’ve been really depressing lately. I’m starting to get really stressed out about Dothan. The whole packing and moving and unpacking thing just makes me anxious thinking about it. The stress is causing my migraines to come back with a vengeance. I have no medication for it, which has become a common thing lately, because any doctor I manage to find has decided that I don’t need medications that work because apparently anything other than tylenol is probably going to turn me into an addict. I had to beg to get the 15 Ultram I got when I visited the ER at the start of the month, and those lasted me less than a week between my headaches and the back pain that was preventing me from sleeping. I doubt at this point anyone would ever give me anything for my anxiety. I haven’t left the house much because of it. I’ve avoided going to Greenville. Or to the store. I sometimes go to the gas station for a gallon of milk or cigarettes (because all of the stress hit me right after I decided to quit and I might as well just wait until I finally get settled before attempting that). I’ve become depressed and paranoid of nearly everyone. I don’t sleep well anymore. I just want to function. To not feel like I can’t leave my house. But ever since my fiasco with doctors regarding my back (which in fact did turn out to be something, bursitis, despite four doctors telling me that I was fat and it was all in my head) I no longer have any faith in them. No one seems to want to give out medication anymore, unless you’re my brother, then you can have Lortabs, Prozac and Xanax to your heart’s content, no questions asked.
And then there’s the whole part about being alone when I move to Dothan. It really doesn’t matter. I’m alone now. I don’t ever go out anymore. No one comes to visit me here either. I can count on one hand the number of people that have come to visit me in the two years that I have lived here. I can count on two hands the number of times I have had visitors. But I mostly don’t mind that because I rarely want to see anyone these days. One of my friends can’t visit without her husband freaking out and blowing up at her and accusing her of cheating. 99% of the time I don’t mind not having company or seeing anyone. But sometimes I absolutely hate it. I hate knowing that most of the time I won’t see anyone unless I initiate a visit. I usually have to go to them. I have to make other plans to justify the drive because driving two hours really isn’t work much if you only spend about an hour with someone anyway. Not to mention the cost of gas and how short my cash really is. But at least I know that maybe every few months I will get a visit from someone. In Dothan, that’s not going to be the case. But, it isn’t much different from the way things are now. I don’t have a lot of friends, I never will. I’m sure for some I’ve been a friend if they need something or someone, and only then, otherwise, I can pretty much go to hell. But I still talked to these people, still tried, because I have so few decent friends in my life that I will take whatever I can get, even if it means being a “sometimes” friend. And that makes me more pathetic than I ever imagined. I do get tired of being cast aside because I’m not super cool and I’m not a partier and I’m not into the things most everyone else is into. But that is who I am. The weird, nerdy, socially inept girl that spends all of her time doing the really boring things. Those kinds of people don’t make new friends and apparently they don’t keep friends very well either, because I sure as hell haven’t.
But none of the stuff I have worried about as far as my social life in Dothan, really fucking matters. My life is pretty boring. I do pretty much the same thing every day. I will do it when I move. When I get a job and back in school, I will add work and school into my boring schedule and that will be it.
To be perfectly honest, I feel pretty much nothing when it comes to this topic anymore. I noticed it while having a conversation with Josh. I also realized that I no longer give a shit if people don’t want to hang out with me. I’m used to it. It’s not going to change anything about how I am now.
I’m glad I can say that I don’t really give a fuck anymore. I know that presently I’m depressed, but I’ve felt this way for a while. I could take it or leave it. Doesn’t matter.
