Cheering up

The next person who tells me to 'cheer up' is going to be hit.  I understand and appreciate that people are just trying to help me and they mean well.  But things are not only as easy as simply 'cheering up'.  When there is a chemical imbalance in your brain, life is not just what you make of it.  You do not always choose your own happiness, you do not choose to just be happy.  Nothing is that simple.

Trust me, I've tried.  I've tried for five years to let things go, to look at everything in a positive light, to go with the flow, to not take things personally.  I stayed in bad relationships so I wasn't lonely.  I worked myself sick to stay busy.  I worked out every night to get high off endorphins.  I told myself everyday "You are beautiful" when really I just felt sick looking at myself.  Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.  I tried everything I could think of to avoid relying on pills, but even a perfect day only felt like a 7.  Something was always missing, or dragging me down, or just holding me back.

But the game has changed.  Now I'm in a town that's still unfamiliar, I've formed almost no connections, I have no job, my classes make me feel like the most unintelligent person on the planet, and I'm carrying around an extra 20 pounds.  It is not just a matter of outlook anymore, I don't know how to come back from this.  And can't anybody see that I'm trying?  I'm still trying?

I can tell myself that I'm a good person and I deserve to be around other good people.  But where are they?  I can tell myself that a job should not define my sense of self worth.  But without one I'm both broke and have no sense of purpose, I don't leave anywhere feeling that I made a difference and did my part for the greater good of some kind.  I can tell myself that I'm just out of practice with school and anybody would have problems with my classes.  But I'm used to sailing through classes, and what if I never figure out how to learn?  I can tell myself that I have the body of someone who inherited her dad's sweet tooth, but not his metabolism.  I can tell myself that big boobs are worth a big stomach.  And for a minute that'll work, but then I'll remember what a flat stomach and jeans that fit feels like.

As usual, I don't know where I'm going with this.  I'm so beyond frustrated with myself.  I push away everybody who is putting in the effort and trying to help me.  I just don't want to talk to them, and I feel like nobody should see me like this.  I'm so disappointed in myself, craving a pill to make me happy seems like such a failure.  But honestly, what else can I do?  Not everything is as simple as cheering up.