Are we getting sick of discussing the mental health of yours truly? Too bad!
I visited the uni for the first time in about half a year today, and it was both traumatic and educational. Just like a real school! Originally I only needed the certificate that says I’m allowed to get a student discount on long distance trains and buses, but I knew I would have to face my thesis mentor sooner or later. (I mean, I haven’t been in touch since March-April-ish, and I changed the topic of my animated short again, despite promising not to. A sound thrashing was mentioned.) I cried on three separate occasions today, not to mention almost doing so. It’s ridiculous — I can’t deal with anything these days without bawling, and my social anxiety meter is going through the roof.
At least people who know what I’m going through (the nice lady at the student affairs office, my thesis mentor, the senior 3D lecturer, etc.) are terribly nice and understanding about it, but it eats me up. I want to get better, not worse! So I’m learning lessons of humility (or humiliation?) at having my emotions so exposed. I also feel sorry for the one happening to be at the receiving end. I’m learning to admit that I absolutely cannot cope with everything (if anything) right now; I had to admit that I can’t put a definite schedule for the thesis anymore, because every time I do it and fail,I feel even worse for letting everybody down.
What? Who? I don’t know. Just everyone.
So, anyway, I got to thinking about how I now seem to be worse off than I was before, even if I feel that the therapy is actually making progress. Maybe that’s just it. All these theories I’ve been reading and the understanding I’m gaining on myself and the anatomy of the depression may mean that we’re actually excavating deeper than I ever have before… I don’t even know what that means. I seem to be digging deeper and deeper into the hole that is my brain, and somehow I hope to eventually reach China.