Delusion-Elle

It's half past midnight and most of the places I frequent online are rather dead, so I turn to my blog to provide me with entertainment. Well, not so much entertainment, but something to do, at least.

As you may or may not know, I've been on acne medication, called Accutane (or Isotretinoin for you Science-bent folk), for a number of months now -- nine to be more precise. This was never something that I thought that I would have to do for my acne, which was apparently not as bad as a lot of people's, but since when I did get it, it would be painful and overall kind of horrible, my mom decided to take action and get me some Accutane. Also, she thought that getting rid of my acne would help improve my self-esteem. Oh boy, oh boy. I'm not exactly sure how Accutane works. All I know is that while I am on this medication, I cannot get pregnant (fat chance) for my unborn child would end up horribly deformed and/or disfigured. This means that I have to go for a monthly blood test to check if I am pregnant. If you know me and of my aversion to needles, then you know that monthly bloodworks is my own personal circle of Hell. That being said, I think that I am dealing with it a lot better, though getting shots is something I still have to work on. Of course, as with any medication, Accutane has side effects. Most of the common ones deal with general dryness, such as severely dry skin and nosebleeds. The more uncommon side effects include suicidal tendencies, changes in vision, a decreased level of hearing, depression, and liver problems. Lucky me, it appears that I've acquired at least one of these more uncommon side effects.

My mom thinks that I am depressed. Maybe I am. I suppose that when you're living with it, it's hard to say; it feels like I have been this way since I was aware of my own consciousness. Given that my mom knows me the best of anyone, I suppose that I may have to agree. My irritability seems to be more constant, and whether that's because I have recently recognized the ugliness of the world or because of the Accutane, I do not know. Regardless, this leads me to a point.

Since starting my co-op placement nine months ago (coincidental, really), I've been approached by co-workers who have commented on how I seem or don't seem to be very happy. I have never had this happen before in my life. People don't generally care or seem to notice if I'm being particularly happy or sad, and yet in the past nine months, two different people have commented on my mood. I understand their concern when I'm "sad", but it seems that they think that I'm constantly "sad". I assure you all that this is not the case, though it made me wonder.

I am not the type of person who shares particularly good or happy news with people. I don't like to broadcast my triumphs. This is partly because I do not want to rub it in anyone's face, and also because I feel as though it shouldn't matter if I share my joy -- if it makes me happy then that's enough happiness in itself, I derive no pleasure from subjecting other people to partaking in my own brand of happiness. Sure, if it's a large enough, universally-understood enough topic, then sharing can be a good thing and it won't be seen as a form of bragging to anyone. However, on the other hand, there are often times where I feel like if I did share my happy news, people just wouldn't care. They might act as though they cared, but if it's beyond their scope of knowledge, they probably would rather not have to feign caring. Or at least that's what I think.

I was looking at my Twitter feed the other day and thinking that perhaps my tweets reflected this as well. Oh, I'm sure they do. And given that most of my tweets seem to be complaints about things, I suppose that it's no small wonder that people assume that I'm unhappy all the time, though it still bothers me that they even assume that at all. By the logic that I don't tweet particularly happy things meaning that I am a person who is rarely happy, then most folks -- who tend to make cheerful tweets about how things are going hunky-dory and that their significant others are wonderful and that life is grand -- are people who are never (or are rarely) sad. As much as I would like to condemn this logic, I realized that I actually think in that same way. I do see tweets by people that are happy and joyful, and yes, I do assume that that means that things are going very smoothly for them in life. Sure, they have the occasional complaint here and there about how there aren't enough chairs in the library at school, or that they couldn't find a closer parking spot, but all in all, their lives look so rosy and fantastic... and it makes me jealous. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this social media thing, which just provides more platforms for me to be exposed to the self-highlight reel people put out of themselves -- the self-highlight reel that I often compare my fault-ridden self to. It's not good for my ego and it's not good for my self-esteem, but I am completely wrapped up in it, and it is so very hard trying to wade my way back out. I have problems seeing my own highlight reel, and perhaps that's because I am constantly comparing everyone else's best to my worst sides.

Regardless, this was an interesting combination of perception and assumption that I found, and I cannot wait to be rid of my reliance on Accutane.