Watching Gossip Girl has become my new obsession/pastime/thing that makes the hours go by... yes I am having such a wonderful, productive, enjoyable life post-HSC....
And Eric Van Der Woodsen, Serena Van Der Woodsen's little brother has a minor plot line as a troubled teen staying at "The Ostraf Centre" for alcoholics/drug addicts/ mentally ill adolescents after he attempted suicide, apparently by slashing at his wrists, because he was morbidly depressed or something...
Of course the Van Der Woodsen's are incredibly rich, and his first return into their society of WASPs involves a romantic connection with a girl who is moved/sympathetic about his problems when he confides in her.....
"It's a long story"
"I've got time"
"It's pretty dark"
"I can handle it"
We see a dramatic scene where he brandishes the scars on his wrists at Blair, and coolly utters a glib one liner.
We see the pretty girl visit him at his rehab/hospital place, and the beginnings of something...
Because of course most people do find depression something that moves them to care about people, right? They are drawn closer, not repulsed, right?
Even Serena leaving the dramatic scene where she was just publicly outed, even though it wasn't true, by Blair as being at the Ostraf Centre for a non-existent drug addiction, storming out and crying, is stopped by the guy that just broke things off with her with a pleasant/ humorous yet oh so sincere offer of ever "talking" or just "not talking" together if she needed someone..... like Bloody Hell, why is it that the bloody opposite is what happens in real life, that people just feel like they are divorced of you and don't need to help or care... even when you need them too.
It's not like i'm mad, I mean I do like Gossip Girl for the outfits, the romantic dramas, and all the dramatic "teenage issues" of which attempted suicide makes a token cameo.... I don't know why I feel like writing this. I guess I wish that I could be recovering, which is stupid because I'm not taking the steps. I'm not taking the pills, which are right next to me now on my bedside table, I'm not picking up the phone and calling to book an appointment. I feel a bit incapable and useless and incapacitated right now. I was meant to do something today but I couldn't really get up the motivation to get up, get dressed and leave the house.
I wish that there would be friends there who I could talk to about this and who would care more and not less. And I wouldn't have to be scared of driving them away if they knew the real me.
I kind of wish there was a glamour to my situation, but there isn't. I hate constantly comparing myself to everyone else I ever meet or hear of, and coming out inferior. I hate that no one cares enough to ask me how I am, that none of my friends ever calls me. I hate being this person and this whole thing is pathetic including this stupid post argjhlkld/;la/we:Lka;j
Self-Compassion and Depression
3 days ago