Stryker125
January 23rd, 2013, 12:45 AM
I just posted this on tumblr, and figured I'd upload it here too. Maybe it'll help someone. Sorry if it's in the wrong section, wasn't sure exactly where to put this one.
Tumblr post here: http://heyimstryker.tumblr.com/post/41260442533/good-vibes
Well, I’m officially an art student again. Not that I really ever stopped studying art, but now it’s official again.
Some of you know that for the last two years I’ve been a student at The Art Institute of Washington. Well not anymore. A few months ago, I was kicked out for not meeting the academic requirements set by the school. I’ve been dealing with Major Depressive Disorder for a few years, and these past few months, it was really getting the best of me.
I couldn’t function, let alone get to class on time and complete assignments. Anyway, it got to the point where my GPA dropped to a 1.4 or something. I started my freshman year with a 4.0. For the longest time, I denied being depressed, or that anything was wrong at all. My roommate at the time (and still one of my best friends) said I was showing the same symptoms he was showing when he was put in the hospital, and said I should consider going to a doctor and getting treatment before I got any worse. I didn’t. I got pretty bad, but I always seemed to do enough to keep my head above water as far as grades were concerned.
I just never considered depression was even possible for me. Like, I had a decent childhood. My parents are still together, I’ve got friends, went to a private school, grew up in the suburbs, and though I was never spoiled, I got nice stuff. I have no reason to be depressed. And that just made me more depressed. When I recognized it as legit depression I never considered getting help. I figured I didn’t deserve it since I didn’t have a real reason to be depressed, that somehow I didn’t matter as much. Then one night my roommate and I were having one of our heart-to-hearts (it’s good to have those every now and then), and I told him what I was on my mind. And while I don’t remember exactly what we said, I’ll always remember that he helped me realize that when it comes to depression, the severity of one’s external conflict is of no consequence. It doesn’t matter that someone may have it better or worse, because that doesn’t change that you have what you have. It doesn’t matter why you hurt. All that matters is that you’re hurting, and deserve to be happy.
It took a couple of years for that to sink in, and even when it did I was still terrified. Y’know, what my parents and family and friends would think and whatnot. I let that fear hold me back. I couldn’t get any work done, and had a few panic attacks and nervous breakdowns and I destroyed work that would’ve been perfectly adequate for the job. I’ve got this performance anxiety thing, where if I know someone is going to see it (it being anything from homework to singing or playing an instrument or whatever), I’ll procrastinate and put it off until the last minute, and end up doing a really shitty job just to say I did something. Eventually my school kicked me out, and if I ever wanted to get back in, I had to appeal. Of course I wanted to get back in. I love the friends I’ve met there, and my teachers are all people I look up to a lot and respect a shit ton. I had to get back in, I just didn’t see myself anywhere else. I talked to my advisor and she told me that to even have my appeal considered, I had to submit a written letter explaining why I was unable to perform academically, and documentation that I was getting help. So I got help. I started going to therapy, and got on meds and all that junk. And I started getting better. They let me back in. They let me back in, but didn’t tell me I was allowed back until 3 days before classes started, and after all the re-entry paperwork was processed I ended up starting class 2 weeks late. I didn’t think I could catch up, and I started to get pretty low again. I didn’t catch up. They kicked me out again. I appealed again on the grounds that they pretty much fucked me when they made me start late, and got denied. Fuck.
Anyway, I ended up deciding that it’d probably just be best for me to take a few weeks to pull myself together, and apply to another school. I’m a lot better than I used to be. Sure, I still get really lonely and incredibly sad a lot, but whatever. I won’t be sad forever. I’m still the optimist, though it is hard. I got news today that I was accepted into The Academy of Art University, and I am both excited for and terrified. But I think I’m in a much better place now, and if I work hard enough, maybe I could actually be somebody someday.
It’s strange to think that only a couple of years ago, I was lying in the fetal position on my floor thinking of who I’d write a letter to before I walked in front of the train, and what I wanted them to know. Life is weird, and really cool. This picture of Spider-Man pretty much sums up my mood for the last few days.
(on tumblr there's a picture of Spider-Man hanging out on a rooftop eating Chinese take out here)
Chill as fuck.
I don’t really know where I was going with this post, I didn’t mean for it to be this long. Forgive me if it’s incoherent, I’m pretty tired.
Anyway, yeah. Thanks if you read this whole thing.
Tumblr post here: http://heyimstryker.tumblr.com/post/41260442533/good-vibes
Well, I’m officially an art student again. Not that I really ever stopped studying art, but now it’s official again.
Some of you know that for the last two years I’ve been a student at The Art Institute of Washington. Well not anymore. A few months ago, I was kicked out for not meeting the academic requirements set by the school. I’ve been dealing with Major Depressive Disorder for a few years, and these past few months, it was really getting the best of me.
I couldn’t function, let alone get to class on time and complete assignments. Anyway, it got to the point where my GPA dropped to a 1.4 or something. I started my freshman year with a 4.0. For the longest time, I denied being depressed, or that anything was wrong at all. My roommate at the time (and still one of my best friends) said I was showing the same symptoms he was showing when he was put in the hospital, and said I should consider going to a doctor and getting treatment before I got any worse. I didn’t. I got pretty bad, but I always seemed to do enough to keep my head above water as far as grades were concerned.
I just never considered depression was even possible for me. Like, I had a decent childhood. My parents are still together, I’ve got friends, went to a private school, grew up in the suburbs, and though I was never spoiled, I got nice stuff. I have no reason to be depressed. And that just made me more depressed. When I recognized it as legit depression I never considered getting help. I figured I didn’t deserve it since I didn’t have a real reason to be depressed, that somehow I didn’t matter as much. Then one night my roommate and I were having one of our heart-to-hearts (it’s good to have those every now and then), and I told him what I was on my mind. And while I don’t remember exactly what we said, I’ll always remember that he helped me realize that when it comes to depression, the severity of one’s external conflict is of no consequence. It doesn’t matter that someone may have it better or worse, because that doesn’t change that you have what you have. It doesn’t matter why you hurt. All that matters is that you’re hurting, and deserve to be happy.
It took a couple of years for that to sink in, and even when it did I was still terrified. Y’know, what my parents and family and friends would think and whatnot. I let that fear hold me back. I couldn’t get any work done, and had a few panic attacks and nervous breakdowns and I destroyed work that would’ve been perfectly adequate for the job. I’ve got this performance anxiety thing, where if I know someone is going to see it (it being anything from homework to singing or playing an instrument or whatever), I’ll procrastinate and put it off until the last minute, and end up doing a really shitty job just to say I did something. Eventually my school kicked me out, and if I ever wanted to get back in, I had to appeal. Of course I wanted to get back in. I love the friends I’ve met there, and my teachers are all people I look up to a lot and respect a shit ton. I had to get back in, I just didn’t see myself anywhere else. I talked to my advisor and she told me that to even have my appeal considered, I had to submit a written letter explaining why I was unable to perform academically, and documentation that I was getting help. So I got help. I started going to therapy, and got on meds and all that junk. And I started getting better. They let me back in. They let me back in, but didn’t tell me I was allowed back until 3 days before classes started, and after all the re-entry paperwork was processed I ended up starting class 2 weeks late. I didn’t think I could catch up, and I started to get pretty low again. I didn’t catch up. They kicked me out again. I appealed again on the grounds that they pretty much fucked me when they made me start late, and got denied. Fuck.
Anyway, I ended up deciding that it’d probably just be best for me to take a few weeks to pull myself together, and apply to another school. I’m a lot better than I used to be. Sure, I still get really lonely and incredibly sad a lot, but whatever. I won’t be sad forever. I’m still the optimist, though it is hard. I got news today that I was accepted into The Academy of Art University, and I am both excited for and terrified. But I think I’m in a much better place now, and if I work hard enough, maybe I could actually be somebody someday.
It’s strange to think that only a couple of years ago, I was lying in the fetal position on my floor thinking of who I’d write a letter to before I walked in front of the train, and what I wanted them to know. Life is weird, and really cool. This picture of Spider-Man pretty much sums up my mood for the last few days.
(on tumblr there's a picture of Spider-Man hanging out on a rooftop eating Chinese take out here)
Chill as fuck.
I don’t really know where I was going with this post, I didn’t mean for it to be this long. Forgive me if it’s incoherent, I’m pretty tired.
Anyway, yeah. Thanks if you read this whole thing.