Is this what they call "rock-bottom"?

Had a relatively nice 4th of July weekend. Spent it with family at a vacation-y apartment.

I unconsciously distracted myself from most everything going on in my life right now. But now I’m back home and the first thing that came to mind was that I have yet to find a new psychiatrist. And that made my delicate OK mood plummet.

But really, one of the things I realized during the weekend was that maybe one of the reasons for which I haven’t been doing well depression-wise is that MM is back home. You see, MM stayed home during the weekend and somehow, I felt a difference in my mood. A bit lifted.

My sister is a very intense person, and I guess that sort of spills onto me and affects me even though I’m not aware of it. I feel terrible for thinking that my bad mood somehow has to do with her, but it’s the truth. Maybe I was already used to the family dynamics between mom, dad, and I at home, that having MM back disrupts that and stresses me (until I grow accustomed to having her around again). Also, she’s not doing all too well herself, since her boyfriend is still in Country X and the different time-zones make communication difficult sometimes. In addition, she’s been closing in on herself on purpose (she told me this) because she wants to give the family as little information about herself as possible, so that we can’t use it against her as ammunition in some argument or such (which happens frequently).

So, while MM used to be her intense but bubbly and sometimes goofy self, now she’s still intense but very serious, quiet, and emotionally distant. And how have I responded to this? By closing in on myself and not telling her much about my personal things. I feel like there’s a thick wall between us, and sometimes we share stuff, but not as much as we used to.

It makes me feel so lonely. The two people who up until now were my pillars of support, M and MM, are, for very different reasons, distancing themselves from me. And unfortunately, I’ve responded by making that distance even larger.

I’ve been thinking a lot these days about how I’m still very dependent on my parents, much like a child. The thoughts began once I started thinking about a city I’m very curious about (and where I would consider applying to for residency), but is more than 1,000 miles from here.
It hurts to admit that I’m afraid of being an adult and becoming independent. Part of me wishes I could be like that (and I know I have to do it eventually), but this other part of me becomes paralyzed with terror at the mere thought of it. In part (and mostly), it has to do with the fact that becoming independent would expose me to a shitload of day-to-day situations that give me a lot of anxiety…and I’d have to deal with them on my own.
I remember how when I was doing the ObGyn rotation at that other town, it took a superhuman effort for me to finally gather the strength to go to the supermarket on my own. And, when I was doing that summer internship in 2012, I refused to go to any other supermarket that wasn’t the one that was 10 feet away from the apartment because of the anxiety (even if it was pretty expensive).
It’s all very embarrassing, and I’m not at all proud of the fact that I’m a pseudo-adult and still very childlike. Actually, thinking about it makes me want to cry. How can my (currently) feeble dreams be compatible with this ongoing fear? How can I even consider doing residency in a city far away, when I get so anxious at the thought of walking the dogs on my own around the neighborhood when there’s still daylight?
I used to think I’d reached rock-bottom the summer of 2012…I obviously had no idea what I had in store for me.

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