More Exposure and "Walking Depression"

I'm depressed again, but this is the depression that leads into more depression later on.  The preliminary depression.  You kind of feel bad, but much worse is coming.  You are at the gym and know you should work out but only have 45 minutes left of the time before you get your ride.  You don't go exercise: instead you write this blog and play with Facebook. 

I've been feeling masterfully guilty today.  My profesora was sick and class was cancelled.  I'm not sure of the details, but she was sitting outside of the UC and drinking some water.  I think there is something wrong between me and her.  She's like a firecracker and I'm like a spud dud.   I'm trying to anticipate her and she's trying to anticipate the needs of all her students.  I feel like a big distraction, but I really just want to learn Mexican American History, grab the credit, not be forced into some giant people mill.  Which is what we all want. 

A lot of people from Six Flags passed out because of the heat.  I wonder, could it be the heat?  It was exceedingly sweaty today and I had to change my white shirt cause of visibility problems.  Maybe it's the last heat wave until the Autumn cool. 

I am pretty depressed, but it's what I call a "walking" depression.  And I want to talk about this.
I feel sad and down, but still functional.  Like I could run forever on this pain.  It's not debilitating depression, but definitely leads to it.  Leading to a deeper depression. 

That's why I think I may need more schooling after all.  I'm planning on finishing my University Studies degree, with two more classes in the spring.  I could go for another year and get my English degree. (I'm hoping I could   And I could get a Masters in Math or Communication or Psychology, anything to keep me from working for a couple more years.  (Or I could leave UTA...*dramatically* ...FOREVER....and try a different college.) 

I assume I am practically a demon in disguise, changing everything I touch.  Careless.   Angry.  Mean-spirited.  These are the things I think I am not ever, but I know that people think I am and that I express these things sometimes.  But you know, if you don't go, you won't get the help. 

I also feel like something could happen.  I could get into that "secret society" that I've mentioned before, which is probably all in my head, but is still there none-the-less.   I could talk to people.  I know that sounds dumb. But it does take all of my concentration to say something in class or to ask a classmate for a hairband.  And sometimes I don't do it.  Sometimes I do. 

I really hate kids, especially those of my relatives and people close to me.  They are always so innocently self-righteous and want me to play games with them.  I don't know any kid games.  And am really bad at making stuff up off the top of my head.  Then they start pulling rank on you.  Because you're not automatically defending yourself like their healthy immune systems are.  It hurts my feelings.  But kids are just kids. 

This depression is manifesting itself as pain in my shoulders and arms.  There is no real solution, except going back in time and exercising.  Unfortunately time travel isn't invented yet, at least not for matter.  Maybe I can exercise tonight. 

All I can do in my profesora's case is to follow my conscience which says, I should be open to distracting myself before class, instead of trying to read my profesora's mind.  That's all me, the little one in God, can do. 

Being reminded of Six Flags, I formulate a plan to work and go to school at the same time, but I know this is useless to consider.  There's only so many hours in a week.  I can only look back and reminisce, those were good times.  It was when I was coming out of my depression and felt that I really deserved to be happy. 

As for getting more hours at UTA, I'm clown fishing it.  Coming out, and then going back in. Coming out, and then going back in.  Lol.  I'm sticking with university studies, but will ask about the dual degree in the fried and diminishing English department. 

I am a lot of bad things, but I think that's the point. You are bad, so you go to school to get good at something.   Right?  But to me, college is super elitist.  Only the best go to become the best.  And I am old and boring.  And odd numbered.  My twenties were awful.  But this Is my thirties, something good could happen. I'm worried that my talking to people could have super abundant bad consequences because of being silent so long.  You don't share, you don't care.  Bad can work. This is an idea I hate to entertain because I believe that communication is the most essential attribute that connects us to God.  We need to talk to people. It's human (not animal) to communicate. 

Maybe that's what I need to do with kids.  Communicate.  I like having little games with them, as long as the results are not depressingly not in my favor.  I don't know why kids try to beat me so badly.  Maybe I seem weak and inferior.  But I'm hoping that I can have a better attitude towards them and something positive can come out of that.  I kind of think of them as little time machines, which is not particularly helpful.   To think of them as people is the hardest thing to do because you do that, then they change before your eyes and you never trust them again.   And then you or they have to become a villain.  I'm voting that the children of the corn/gremlins are, but that's just my self preservation instinct talking. 

All my situations have a solution.  They are all solvable problems which with discussion, help and time, can be resolved.  I need a therapist desperately.  But I don't want to get one, which reminds me.  Coming off of lithium is really, really hard.  It's like you are a sun burst and then you are dipped into a vat of depression.  I don't know how I'm going to get off this morning dose.  Another solvable problem.  Time and patience.