The Beginning

Well Hello,
This is my first blog ever and this is my first post on this blog. Anyway, not that any of that matters much and I don't find it particularly exciting, well maybe somewhere deep down inside. Which brings my to why I've started a blog to begin with.
I've started this blog in hopes that it will be relieving, a way to manage stress and express my emotions or problems without having to spend money on a psychologist.
Let me just get this out now. I really ought to see a shrink. A lot of people over many years have told me this including my general practisioner, but as I am a college student and neither of my parents have real jobs at the moment due to Bush's failing economy policies (but that's another matter all together) I really don't have the money to see a shrink and feel that I should just impose my confused mental state on the just of the world (haha. That should have been funny.)
Secondly, I'm not telling my friends about this site, so the odds are that if you are looking at this you have no idea who I am, which is fantastic, so feel free to tell me to go to Avalon (that's Celtic humor, so don't worry if you don't get it).
So to get to the real point, let me tell you about myself, or the part I created this blog for.

As I said before I am a college student, actually I am a freshman. So I've only been here for two months. Contrary to all my friends, suitemates and floormates, I do not miss home. I love being here and I never want to go back. In fact, I mean not to. (sorry for the LOTR reference, they just spill out some times). I have diagnosed myself as being manic depressive. I haven't seen a shrink so I might be off, but usually you can tell. All through middle school I was very happy. Life was perfect and worth living. Then high school came around and I hated high school. I hated everything from day one. There was a teacher or two who made it a little better, but on the whole I hated it and fell into depression. In fact, my mother was very worried that I slept so much and took my for about a million different blood tests-everything from anemia and mono to lupus. I hate needles. In the end the doctors were like "she just seems depressed. Let me refer you to a shrink." Then I would never go, because I didn't want to talk about it. I want to talk about it now. Which means I'm probably in a manic phase or somewhere in between. I've been mostly happy since I escaped to college.
In high school I actually had two breaks downs, which I would like to talk about now. The first one was spring break of sophomore year. A friend of mine pushed me into a wall and was fairly violent. That set me off. I think I was ready to collapse and that action was just the straw that broke tha camel's back. My friend did apolegize because I was so hurt by his actions and we are still friends, but I never really blamed him. During the breakdown I spent a week in my room in nonstop tears. I didn't eat. I didn't really sleep. I tried to slit me wrists once, but my parents came upstairs and I didn't want them to see me doing that. I didn't want them to save me. I just wanted to die and I didn't want to be "saved". I slowly came out of the collapse, but I didn't want to face the world again and I had to go back to school. Some people noticed that I was different, but most people didn't say anything.
The second break down came a year later, but not during spring break. I had gone on vacation during spring break and you can't have a mental collapse on a vacation. I didn't go to school for three days, then my parents finally forced me to go, but I just sat in my classes. I wasn't really there. I was still hibernating in my room. Crying in my brain.
I can't tell you why I collapsed. Maybe I was tired of being strong, exhausted from pretending or maybe I wasn't ready for the world. Maybe it was ready for me. Either way all I know is that I went through a lot of pain and I didn't think that anyone was going through the same thing or would understand what I was going through. However, I've been more open since I got to college and I'm not scared to tell people what I've experienced and I find people who have had similar experiences. I am not alone (I know it sounds cliche). I am not alone.
I think that's enough. I don't want to bog anyone down so quickly. Small steps. One at a time. Maybe tomorrow I will say more or talk about something else. Maybe I'll be happy.