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Personal depression bs ahead
Realizing that I’m depressed again sucks. The way I grew up, I got good at hiding my depressive phases, even,and frankly, especially from myself. So every time I notice that I’m depressed, I’ve been in the thick of it for like, a week or two.
The worst thing about depression in the human mind is how it is entirely possible to be depressed and anxious when absolutely nothing is wrong. Things are going just as well as they have been. Fucking great even. There are no disasters looming in the horizon that need action to avert. There are lots of small good things happening every day that make me happy. Good food, fun trips, new video games and movies. Spending time with my fiancee, and with my friends makes me very happy. But when there’s no one there and nothing happening, my mood just… sinks.
Hell, I’m baking a fucking cake right now and my fiancee is on the way home but I just feel like shit.
And it sucks because emphasis on feel. I know everything’s fine, and I should be fine. But that just kind of makes the squashed feeling even worse.
Depression for me manifests as a kind of yawning emotional emptiness, a lack of motivation, and a feeling like everything’s going to hell, I’m a failure and I have no control over my life.. A kind of great ‘what’s the point/why even bother/I don’t have the energy/it doesn’t matter’ that smears itself all over my hobbies and responsibilities. Don’t feel like reading, or writing, or drawing, or playing a game.Can’t summon the fucks to kinblog. Can’t summon the fucks to clean. Can’t summon the fucks to do much besides lay in bed and listen to music. And its like ‘you should do something to improve your situation’ but the it’s like ‘what’s the point, nothing I can do will matter.’
I’ve been thinking about trying to get therapy through my new insurance, but I can’t bring myself to work through the anxiety to pick up the phone.
I woke up after three and a half hours of sleep the other day in a stomach knotted sense of panic, convinced that something was on fire, or the house was filled with gas. I got up several times and looking through the whole house. Of course, nothing was wrong. I just spent an hour awake, staring at the ceiling, convinced that I was going to die if I went back to sleep, because I must have missed something. This lasted until I finally woke up my fiancee and told her how I was feeling, and she held me until I fell asleep, part of me still thinking that was just how I was going to die.
I don’t even know if I’m going to post this, because if I do, it means she’ll see it, and I haven’t talked to her about how I’m feeling yet. I keep thinking it’s stupid, and I’m fine, and there’s nothing worth worrying her over, because it will go away. It always goes away. That’s how being bipolar is. If I just wait long enough, everything will be fine….
But I also want her to know because I know she’d want to know, and be able to help me. We’re working on communication. I, specifically, am working on sharing my feelings and not just keeping them bottled up inside and going on with life, like my mother always taught me to do. But I’m too embarrassed to talk to her face to face about this. How do I start this conversation? Honey, I’m fine, and nothing’s wrong but I’m crushingly depressed and feel empty inside when you’re not actively with me doing something? I feel like nothing I contribute to the world will ever be enough, and everyone’s secretly annoyed by my presence and just wants me to go away?
I feel like I can never talk about my feelings except in these long, rambling pseudo-essays/correspondences, because then it’s like I’m writing something, not actually… admitting to how I feel, or starting a dialogue.I feel like it’s okay to write it out this way because people can ignore it, or I can excuse it as melodrama. It’s not like having to face someone and say ‘these are my feelings’, because even on the best of days I have a hard time remembering its okay for me to *have* feelings, let alone express them to other people. Every time I open my mouth I feel like I’m just trying to get attention, like I’m an embarrassment. Like admitting how I feel is both a lie and a weakness.
I am all fucked up.
I’m sorry to dump this on you, tumblr, if I do end up posting this, and most of all, I’m sorry to dump this on my dear fiancee, who didn’t do anything to deserve this bullshit this morning. I promise everything will be fine soon, and its not really that bad…
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