“Can you come in here a minute?” I shouted to my brother eating dinner with my folks. I just stand in the bathroom in disbelief. I’d waited the three minutes it told me to wait and there was nothing. But, something inside told me to wait just like something inside knew I was pregnant.

The weeks following I’d just felt different in a way I can’t explain. And what they say is definitely correct. You’re breasts get tender. I didn’t know what “tender” would feel like until they finally were and I got it. I got nauseous one day after I’d had something to eat also. And man could I eat all of the sudden. I’d always had an appetite being I was a swimmer but I literally felt like I was eating for two people, and as it turned out, I was.

“I have to be,” I thought. And there it was, light pink at first and faint to both my brother and I as my pregnancy test deepened in color.”Wait, what?! What are you going to do Andrea?” He asked. “I have no idea,” I said. Suddenly my mind traveled back to when my best friend gave me a ride home. “Someone once told me that when you know you just know,” after I told her my period was late. “What do you honestly think, Andrea?” She asked. “I think that I am,” I said, terrified. I couldn’t believe that I just became a statistic. A number on a sheet like the census of fuck-ups or something.

“Do you want to keep it?” my brother asked, “It seems like you want to.” Of course I wanted to. I loved kids more than I loved myself even back then. At my last job I started babysitting for a family just because I got along so well with their son and they were regulars at work. I didn’t have any purpose in life after the depression started. But the one I had before was that I thought I was put on this Earth to have children. I really couldn’t see straight anymore and things were coming at me too fast. My fault or not, I had the biggest decision of my life to make and the saddest part was that it made me want to take my life even more in a way, and then gave me a reason to live in another way.


Barreling Through


I’m starting to feel bad for the people who hang out with me. They can’t be having any fun. My depression is what’s having fun….taking over every part of who I am. I feel like I’ve changed so much from the person I was. Usually really bubbly and friendly, I hardly talk to anyone anymore. This is where the isolation comes in. Within a full on war inside of your mind, depression will make sure you know who’s who when your around anybody. With this kind of low self worth, no one would probably even give me a penny if I asked for their two cents I’m so repulsive. Or they’d probably want change back.

The goal is always the same. Get happy. Go for the gold. And don’t bother anyone while you’re at it. This is all getting a little too old for me. It’s like everything around me screams depression, and I’m in a library constantly getting “shhshed,” because I’m not using my 6 inch voice. I don’t want this to be my legacy. That I suffer from depression or anything for that matter, or even that I suffer. But a sufferer’s will must be watched out for. Because when you endure such pain a sufferer does, automatic strength comes with it, plus a big dose of reality. I’ve really gotten to see different sides of people that I wouldn’t have seen had I not gone through this. The thing is though, looking back on it today I can’t say I learned a ton, except for the flaws everywhere I’d go. Because what happened in this dark place is reality, and gravity reminding you that nothing happens magically. I’ll tell the world of my suffering and they show me why it’s going to get worse. All of my fears of the world came true.  Depression will make the strongest of the strong barrel down to their knees, begging for forgiveness from torments that are blinding. And when they need help, they get people who are either out to take advantage, or who judge the wrong way and some that are not shy to show it. Empathy is at a loss during a time when you just want someone to get it, just let me be and make it through, and still being on the other side calling themselves a friend.

Rush Hour


I look back to the bridge that’s all lit up. The two people who swiftly passed us on their bicycles are long gone. Below me, I see cement tile laid out from the person’s back door. Red cement square blocks that lead to ivy bushes lining the cement walls down to the sidewalk. This would be it, I thought. This is where I need to land, as I set my sites on the cracked four reddish-brown tiles that are broken. Just like me. Everything seems to have different meaning these days. It’s all a somber metaphor for my frail, cheesy heart. Everything’s meaning has deepened. I used to love writing essays in school so I could really break things down in depth and get to know the meaning of what I was supposed to write about. It seems like I look at every single thing as a life lesson in an essay format. My mind just never shuts up. And I want it gone, I want it all to go away. My friend comes out for a second to the balcony I stand on. I ask her if I can be alone and she walks back inside after an, “Oh, sure!” I turn back around. It really is a beautiful night. It’s so quiet though, I wonder where everyone is. I start to wonder what would happen if I didn’t die. What if I jump and it just really fucks me up? Story of my life, I can’t get anything right. And, I’m already fucked up just not physically. That’s how badly this depression has taken over. My anxiety has increased, hell all of my symptoms have. Now I’m actually to the point I’d never even considered to be in my entire life. Then I think of my best friend whom I’m so close to it’s like we’re sisters. What would I tell her in my goodbye letter. What would I tell my mom? I hope she’ll be able to make it through this. My entire family even. Do I even have time for a letter to say a goodbye? This still doesn’t make me stop. It makes me hesitate but not stop as I lift my leg over the railing. Swiftly, I put it back down. What if this isn’t the right choice? I think to myself. What if I do this and life had something special planned for me, like maybe I’d get out of this illness. Maybe a life where I’d see all the blessings instead of looking into this horror. Yeah, right. That sounds highly unlikely but nevertheless, still sounds great. At least I’ll have something to dream about if I make it. Putting my leg back up, I hear, “What ARE you DOING?! It’s one of my best friends from the car earlier. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know anything anymore.” I started to cry as I sat down, her putting her arm around me. “Are you ok?” She asked. Finally, I was going to come out with it to someone other than my parents. “No,” I said. “I’m not ok anymore. I don’t know what to do.” I told her all about my Dr.s visit and how I get bad thoughts all the time. How my mind frame has changed and none of it’s noteworthy. I tell her about how I cry, almost every night before bed. And sometimes during the day, I get triggered. How I feel like such a failure. How I don’t know what to do, just that I want it to be over. It’s so awful to have such a thing. She comforts me and we sit outside for awhile. The wind hits me and suddenly everything seems so loud. So much so my mind feels a little dizzy. There’s too much going on in there. I just want some peace. I’ve been dealing with these illnesses long enough, I thought. When does this damn thing go away? What if I have to deal with it for life? Or better, how worse off would life be dealing with me in it this whole time? I want out of here.

Good Day


If I have a good day I would have a field day into the sun’s heat day and not a word for low pay. You say you want to be, but this is all I see and until you do as I please don’t mind if I sit and I weep. Because all I do is sob filling a water’s tide to bob and haven’t found my way home as all hearts I see have been dethroned. You want me to see the real you but the mirrors black and white and you are see through. Transparent in all of your ways making me swim until depths into days, and I want my life back without haze, please listen I’m here, that okay? Take the time to know what is mine, for my heart’s broken from the worst kind of pine, into the other I lined around the tracks for him to find, and now I get here to you, again and again I can’t be put through, this nightmarish of a movie times two. We’re not meant to be you and I so I tried and I tried and I cried, I even asked him up there and said what’s going on you big guy? But he didn’t have anything to say except the other one’s on his on way. And watch as he skips to the beat, you’ll be aghast to think something so neat. You may be crazed over him here for you and amazed it’s just going to be you two, but this life’s pain won’t live without gain so keep your mindset on things away from insane. Because when they says it’s insane it’s real, not mundane and a really big deal. But if you came up to him with eyes on aim and you walked and you talked quite a big game,  he might really want his heart’s steal and might take you up on the offer of meal. So have fun to you he said, and now I don’t have so much of that dread. Because when it comes from above it’s the head and I once didn’t believe what was said. but here I am fighting until dead, unbelievable you should mark these words read. And if they go small don’t fill up with dread. It’s apples and oranges gone simply to bed. Such is life that I learned with the fruit, i’ll bear what i can without any rebut. And I won’t let you go now or then, or refute anything marked of words sent, and well you really are looking so cute. Keep me in mind with those eyes on to you. It’s really me he said, just keep hanging  tight. So I did and I did and I did. But I see him now and feel like a kid. On earth there’s so many lonely parts under these lids, then you find the master of arts, coming to you to with not such a low bid. Reminding you that it’ll happen just from behind and when you meet you wont feel anything but time. So fun I had to explain things of mine. Don’t stop or ye won’t find, the beating heart that wants to solidify mine. It’s always going to just be you and just I, so don’t stop for anything except that one guy.



Starry night starry night. The first star I wish upon is in the night tonight. And when I wished and saw that star I swore into the night. It came to twilight’s of twilight’s of stars within sight. Shooting across a sky so bright, the darkness within the supernova of light. A sky of cosmos unyielding from fight. At first I said no, said it with might. But then you came in, came into delight. Leaving me weak, restless and tight, is a soulmate who hears the whispers so light. Telling you the story, of our stories sight, we hold hands simple and tight. Begin upon the journey, our journey within sight. One day we’d wished, with such heart and such might. We may be upon true destiny’s delight. Of a love compacted, eternal hearts ready for flight. One special star waiting for the other tonight. Patience by day, encouraging the night. One heart consumes the other ready to ignite. Fire on Earth, I do’s in soft flight. We take one and other, ready for galaxies plight. We see to each other, no one else done so right. Ready for the path of eternities light. Are the stars upon stars within this starry night.

Flying Solo


The days are silents except for the screams of my heart. I lay here trying again to sleep and am tired of counting those sheep. I would spend many a night begging to go to sleep in my head. I lay down all of the time so I don’t even know why I’m tired. All of my energy is completely gone. Plus, I just want time to pass and sleep is the best way to do it. Sometimes I find peace in my dreams but it’s usually a literal war zone with body parts and everything. It’s all just so morbid now.  I zone out thinking of all the things that come along with my disorders. People still look to me waiting for me to get over it. People still think that it’s just a sadness and it’s not. It’s a lifestyle in a rampant disorder we have no control over. Even if it weren’t a chemical imbalance I still don’t get why people haven’t accepted this yet. Google won’t even run ads on my page “because the content goes against their policies.” Well, depression goes against mine and I’ve come to accept it. Another way to feel shunned. My best friends family doesn’t understand depression and they’re the first ones to admit it. But they don’t treat me any different because of it so why do so many others? It’s a constant heart beating in your stomach because you see people and how they look at you. Sometimes I leave places because my anxiety gets so bad, I just have to go. But in reality who would want me there anyways.

One time while on a family vacation the airplane plummeted downward in a free fall for just about two seconds. It felt like an eternity as I had just enough time to tell myself…this is it. But it wasn’t. Who would’ve thought that ten years later, I’d be wishing that it was. Wishing that I could’ve ended it on a happy note on vacation and not this super obedient, always apologetic frail hearted girl. But I don’t know that I believe in wishes anymore, anyways. I miss being a kid and having so many things to fantasize about in life. I was always the kid who was clumsy. I live with my heard turned upward as I look into the sky and never seem to watch where I’m going. It’s like that date I went on horseback riding.  The entire time I spent looking around not paying attention when, wham! a tree branch hit me in the face. I’m used to it by now, getting physically nailed. I mean shit, I grew up with an older brother. That’s where true anxiety’s heart can beat.

Blank Space


I hate that something happened when I outlasted the good parts of life into the bad. I can’t stand that I’ll even have good days but I’ll look back later and think that they were awful. That’s all that I remember anymore. The awfulness takes the fun out of each memory and I wonder where to. Is there a mental dump somewhere that my mind loads up and takes out every Wednesday? I just don’t get it. Most of this blog is about the trials of life with mental illness but there’s a lot that I still don’t understand. Like days when the pressure gets really bad I can’t stand that one either. And people realize how bad your OCD can get when the pressure is on for you to be at your best. Oh, who am I kidding, the pressure is just natural from having to act like a normal human being. I must smile as if I enjoy everyday, instead of looking like I feel. If I had physical symptoms of all my mental problems, I’d be in a coma by now. At least I’d be left alone finally. And every time I put pressure on myself I wouldn’t have to look at the center of everything. People think I’m just staring at something but the reality is that I have to look at something four times or in the exact center of it. Phew, what a process. It takes so much time! And it makes me so mad because the medications I take make me gain weight too. And that shouldn’t be the most awful thing today because people could just think, oh well, at least you’re on your way to being happy. But the truth is A) you don’t know that this will work and B) I’d never realized how mean people could be. I’ve been called fat by at least 5 strangers. One of which I punched in the face. He made such a rude comment about my weight that I just wham! punched him in the face/nose. I’m so sick of people being judgmental! I’m a human being for crying out loud. Don’t call me things when you have know idea what it’s like. To all the skinny people out there, I’m jealous of you. Not only is it sooo hard for me to lose weight, it’s so easy for me to pack it on! Be aware of serequil for one people. That is a medication used for so many things including anxiety but it makes you super hungry and makes you gain weight starting yesterday. Oh, how I hate having this.

I am a human being. A fair minded, light hearted, clumsy, yes, easy going kind of chick. I walk at 5’6″ and my rule of thumb every since I can remember is to “walk tall.” I’m the most self conscious person I’ve ever met. I’ll wear sweatshirts in the summertime in 199 degree weather, inside of work, sweat dripping down my forehead, kind of conscious. DO people think I’m weird? Probably. But that could also be because I am a little weird and do weird things. I’m for the most part just curious Andrea just a little less curious with every inquisition. I mean if you’re going to sit on a bench and french kiss your bf, I take things like that as an invitation to come and snuggle in as well. I mean geez, how can you not?! I just sit, extra, extra close to one of them and maybe give a little back rub, you know? No harm done. And maybe next time they’ll get a room. Or the woman who, with her kids, threw an empty water bottle underneath a car to get rid of it when there was a trash can right there. I quickly goes under the car to retrieve it. “Ma’am, I think you lost this.” As I caught up to her. “What?! No that’s not mine.” She exclaimed. “Well, I distinctly remember watching you throw it underneath that car and if you want to throw it somewhere it should be in the garbage.” I giggle running off like a little kid. When you let your arms flail about and you can just let them loose. It’s the only time running can be fun.