Nothing’s ever easy, is it? You only have to see the pig’s ear candidates make of the simplest of tasks in The Apprentice to know things are never as they seem.
Though it could never be said to be easier, climbing out of my latest bout of depression seemed fairly straightforward. I fell into suicidal tendencies, reached out for help, did all those little life coping tips and hints learned in therapy, and felt I was making progress. The odd bad day I could see was a setback.
It’s more than that though. I just can’t cope at the moment. In spite of all the good advice, of all the positive vibe I’ve been generating for myself and others, that blanket of depression has begun to envelop me yet again.
The first sign I noted last week was the housework. My home is by no means a tip. Things are tidied, cleaned, washed up, put away. Not straight away though. It’ll be left until it annoys me now. Then I get annoyed for allowing myself to fall back into that habit again.
It’s the last 24 hours, though, that the biggest signs of relapse have happened. It started with bed. At gone 4am, I was still wide awake, feeling sad for no apparent reason. So when I finally began dozing, the sun was already coming up again.
That, of course, meant waking up feeling far worse than when I went to bed. My body felt heavier than ever and it took a real, real effort to get up. I had, and still have, little energy. I feel like going back to bed but then I know if I return my mind will only keep me awake anyhow. It’s a vicious circle.
How does my mind keep me awake? By somehow inducing a feeling that I’m worthless, hopeless, and questioning why I carry on. I did have thoughts of my ex, but that was more a feeling of deep loneliness, rather than pining for her return. I miss her but I miss being close with anyone a lot more.
Meals and meal times have become ad hoc occasions. I’ll eat if I’m hungry, which is a vast improvement on lying in bed and letting myself starve. The ‘meal’, though, can be anything. Just one actually prepared and cooked meal in the past four days isn’t good.
There’s also been the odd tear but I’ve been determined to not turn it into a flood, to keep myself together and fight the depression when it makes a bid to take me over completely. I have to battle against the crying game or the game’s up.
I have no idea where this has come from. It’s just been a very deep feeling of utter sadness, of believing I’m useless, on the scrapheap, past my sell by date, marking time until it’s my turn on the mortal coil.
I’ve felt like getting in touch with people but then when I’ve gone to, held back. I don’t want to bother them, it feels silly to reach out so often. I know it’s a necessity to in this situation but something up there in my head is stopping me.
It’s all just suddenly come on as well. Sure, I’ve had difficulties in everyday life, and real frustrations, but you get them regardless of whether you’re well or not. No, this deep, intense, painful feeling of lonely worthlessness has set itself upon me again literally overnight.
Yet I know, compared to the vast majority of the people on the planet, I have it made. A roof over my head, running water, something in the pantry, and all the creature comforts we take for granted. I’m grateful that I had the good fortune of being born and living where I was and am.
It doesn’t mask, sadly, what is wrong with my mind. I keep telling myself that I’m a winner in life because of all that for starters, yet there seems to be a fault line in my mind that subconsciously says “Does not compute. Keep running the ‘you are worthless, useless, deservedly lonely and sad’ program.”
I’m determined to conquer this somehow though. I’m not sure how, but when something’s broken you fix it, not throw it away. My mind is not something I’m prepared to lose. I will make it better in some way. Until then I’ll carry on being me.
Which goes to show that life really isn’t fair.