January 11, 2011

My antidepressants make me tremble uncontrollably. So my handwriting is a mess. I’m worried about an acting class I’m taking which will, in all likelihood, demand a stillness I can’t achieve. People are constantly asking me if I’m cold.

At first I thought it was just anxiety. Nerves. Because I had a lot of that, before coming back. Anxiety. I was scared about seeing my friends. (I was scared they wouldn’t want to be my friends anymore.) I was scared about classes. (My grades were not awesome last semester. Depression does not exactly encourage strong academic performance.) And I am deathly terrified that my depression will return.

So switching up the meds is scary. I don’t want to plunge into another bout of depression. But this trembling, it’s beginning to get to me.


My friends here know I’m into girls. (I dig boys, too. I just don’t like the word “bisexual.”) This is awesome, because I can talk about pretty girls and no one bats an eyelid.

This is not awesome, because I can’t check out girls without getting caught anymore. Colleen catches me constantly. We’ll be walking through the dining hall talking, and then I’ll get all… inarticulate. She’ll turn her head to see what I’m looking at. She’ll giggle. (Giggling is Colleen’s response to nearly everything.)

“You totally saw that, didn’t you?”