It’s been over a month since I last wrote a blog that wasn’t a book review. All of the reasons for that boil down to one thing:

I’m unhappy and frustrated.

When I get unhappy and frustrated, I tend to shy away from everyone except for my family and my really close friends.

The reason I don’t usually tell a lot of people that I’m feeling down is because of the reactions I get.

“Oh you poor thing! How can I make you feel better?”
“Count your blessings!”
“Serve other people more.”
“You need to go be social.”

Or any other number of crappy pieces of advice that are well intended but, in all honesty, not what I need.

Then what do I need?

Honestly, I need space – which I’ve been getting. The people who matter most to me are a constant in my life, whether I call them every day or send sporadic text messages or see them during my day.

Part of the reason I need space is because I’m an introvert. A few weeks ago I stumbled across this amazing webpage with a great graphic that explains introverts and how they function. Please take a few minutes to look at it before reading this post further.

After I read that graphic, I understood myself so much better and why I interact with people the way I do. Because I give my energy to people, if someone doesn’t give me the time of day then I don’t give it back. I’ve had friendships where I seem to give and give and give, but get little to nothing in return. I’m just tired of that. I’m tired of being used for my food, my “nice nature,” my dependability, etc. There’s a fine line between being charitable and being taken advantage of/letting people walk all over you. I’ve learned that the hard way this semester.

Because I’ve never been clinically diagnosed, I hesitate to say another reason I need space is because my depression is coming back. But the more I read about depression, the more I know and understand that it’s something I’ve struggled with my entire life and will continue to battle.

I don’t have severe depression, like I did as a teenager. Right now it’s mild depression. It goes in waves. Honestly, I was doing fine this year until about … oh, 3-4 weeks ago.

One of the reason I don’t like telling people about this is because most people think you have a weird disease when you’re depressed. No, I’m a normal personal – I still have normal moods and laugh and have good times, it’s just that the sad, empty times are much more frequent. And the thing I’ve learned about depression is that – even though this is medication out there that is amazing and helps lots of people – it’s something you have to wait out.

That’s probably why I keep a very small, close group of people around me that I trust. They get me. They understand me. They know that, even when I’m moodier than usual or pull away a bit more, that I’m going through something tough. They love me even when I’m difficult. They try to help by listening to what I need, even if they have to lovingly drag it out of me.

I know what it’s like to not have that support. On my mission I had a mental breakdown that lasted about three days. It was the most intense, darkest three days of my mission. I felt what it was like to lose faith and hope. I was so far gone that I wanted my very spirit to stop existing, because I knew if my spirit didn’t exist anymore I wouldn’t be able to feel any of the pain, sadness, and despair anymore.

I had no contact with my family, the number one source I wanted to go to. In all honesty, the majority of my leaders let me down during that time. No one attempted to sit down with me and ask, “What is wrong? Do you need to talk about it? What can we do to help? What would you like us to do?” Looking back, I needed that more than anything.

To be fair, I don’t think any of my leaders knew what to do. The only thing I got was a text near the end of the week asking how I was, but even that was a bit borderline insincere. Nonetheless, I still felt alone, like my leaders didn’t care about me or my situation. Maybe they didn’t understand the gravity of my situation because they didn’t bother investigate further – maybe they felt they weren’t allowed to. They just awkwardly turned a blind eye and swept it under the rug because, “It’s Hermana Beckert. She’s tough. She can bounce back. Right?”

Just because someone is stalwart doesn’t mean they aren’t hurting or broken on the inside. Jut because they’re a hard worker doesn’t mean they don’t have worries or problems that are plaguing them.

Lately I’ve been struggling with my dislike of people. The past month especially my dislike of the human race as a whole has just skyrocketed. There’s a lack of respect for people. Humans are very mean creatures. I’ve seen this in myself, with my self centered nature. Yes, I need to reach out to people and old friends more, but I also need to balance that out with giving me some alone time so I can work on overcoming my depression.

Beauty with women is one way I can see meanness in humans. It always, in one form or another, comes back to beauty with women. It’s frustrating. I’m tired of people having pity on me because I don’t wear a ton of makeup [and, apparently, the makeup I do wear I don’t apply properly] and I don’t exactly wear the most fashionable trends.

What if I like my plaid shirts? What if I like darker colors? What if I feel I don’t need anything more than mascara and occasional eye shadow? What is so wrong with that?

What’s so wrong with hoping a guy will like me for my personality and wit and intelligence? Is it naive of me to think a guy can enjoy having conversations with me before noticing my “curves” because of the clothes I wear? Why is it wrong of me to want to grow into being beautiful to a guy – to have something grow out of friendship?

It’s discouraging to hear people say, “Be who you are,” then have a gaggle of girls turn around and say, “But your natural self just isn’t quite good enough. You’re mostly there, but not really.”

I didn’t mean for this to turn into a huge rant. But that’s the reason I’ve been MIA as of late. I’m fine, I’m still alive, I’m still trying to finish the semester. I’m just withdrawing for a time due to personal reasons.

But I’m still me. I’ll always be me.