Depressed

I am depressed. 

This really shouldn't be news, because I am pretty sure that I have been functionally depressed my entire life. I remember being so, so sad all the way back in kindergarten and just being told that I was overly sensitive. I remember sitting at the club in college, wanting to cry for seemingly no reason, and being told I was just a drag and a downer. However, this depression feels different. 

I trace this surge in my unhappiess to the beginning of the New Year when I decided to go on this diet. Well, what was supposed to be a positive move to improve my health has plunged me into all day, every day negativitity. And as you have probably guessed, it is not going well. I am pretty sure that I have not lost so much as an ounce. This of course makes me feel like a failure, which is not exactly good for my already plummiting morale. Quite honestly, I am about two seconds from giving up completely. It is too much. It is a trial. And I am not good at trials that are too much. Anyway, I will never be as small as I always dreamed of' anyway; small enough to where a bikini to the grocery store or nab my dream man, so what's the point? Oh, I forgot. Life. 

Wow, I really must be depressed. I don't even feel like whining anymore. Okay then, until next time. 

30s No Bueno

Is it normal to lose your mind in your 30s? I ask because all the 30-somethings around me are cracking like walnuts. Broken romantic relationships. Loneliness. Lost friendships. Work drama. Finance freakouts. Sick parents. A GLOBAL PANDEMIC. You could fill a swimming pool with the tears from my friends alone. On top of all of this, I am trying to lose weight after being told to lose weight since I was about five. This is happening at a time when I have about as much metabolism as a foam cup, but that is another post entirely. 

You will be happy to know that P has dodged the 30s anxieties that are crippling the rest of us. While we all are doing everything possible to get into virtual therapy, he is self-soothing by holding true to his age-old motto: Toughen Up. Man, if ever there was a guy with a stiff upper lip it is P. Right now, I am about as tough as melting ice cream. 

Oh, and have any of you noticed what I am coining as Social Media Contradiction Disorder? On Instagram, everyone I know is partying on boats or eating brunch at fancy home rentals. Yet, my Facebook reads like a trail of tears. Posts are paragraphs long outlining disappointments and heartaches. Maybe my Facebook friends could brighten up if they took a lesson from my IG friends and spent their spare time taking photographs of their outfits and lunches. 

So what is the solution? I am not sure, this is my first time in my 30s. Hang in there I guess? Hang in there. Please. If ever there was a piece of useless advice, it's hang in there. I imagine us 30 somethings have to continue to be a support to each other. Or maybe we can just keep crying until we eventually dehydrate and our minds, bodies, and spirits go into some type of automatic renewal. Whatever is easier.