I admit it. I have had trouble in Milledgeville. I have had trouble adjusting to the move. I have only moved one other time in my life (the first time, when I was under two years of age, I do not count that move since I do not remember it at all)--and that time resulted in my being diagnosed with depression. I admit that I have been depressed. Unfortunately, this has resulted in a hindering of my making good impressions on some people and meeting others in general. I have not been myself. Yes, depression is a *part* of me. However, depression is similar to abnormal blood pressure in that it must be medicated, but medication can only help so much sometimes. I wish I could control the chemicals in my brain... which, unlike blood pressure, can effect emotions/mood/rationality... but I can only help them so much. Sometimes, change hinders my ability to control the imbalances in my brain, to think rationally about things, and I end up doing stupid/horrible/awkward/*insert negative adjective here* things. I wish this were not so; this lack of control has a horrible effect on my self-esteem and such. The only good thing about my dealing with the lack of control is that I am able to recognize when I have had it--a lack of control.
The good news, believe it or not that there is actually good news, is that I am becoming more comfortable here... despite some surly neighbor... and (again, believe it or not) there are people here who like me for who I am--"craziness" and all. I feel fortunate that they have seen a positive side of me (who knew?)--a funny, sometimes over-talkative, sometimes shy, intelligent, kind, sensitive, and sometimes quirky woman. For those who have not or can not see these positive sides to me... Well, I suppose it is his/her loss.
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