Ooh, my, another sign that the cloak of depression has silently, invisibly, come back into my life in a big way. I had to take a wee break from the world of the interweb superhighwaynet.
Three days may not seem long but, of course, when online life has sometimes been the only thing holding me together, by either the therapy of writing or by filling my mind with reading other people’s experiences, it’s a relative eternity.
A familiar feeling overcame, me, however. Not that I didn’t want to carry on with all the positive things I’ve been doing to get my mind back on track. I just couldn’t face it.
The thought of turning on the computer, of reading e-mails, writing up another blog entry, somehow filled me with sadness, even the odd tear. I can’t explain why. It’s just the way I felt. There’s no logic to it. I simply felt compelled by teary-eyed sadness to stay away.
It’s not as if I’ve been lying in bed, however, even though my sleep patterns continue to defy the concept of there being night and day, of a time for rest and activity. I hauled myself over to a charitable trust designed to get people, whether they have depression or any condition, back into work, and assisting them once they are, too.
Keely, my advisor, sensed it straight off. The first thing she asked when I walked through the door is “Are you not feeling well?” I thought I was hiding it pretty well, but the stooped shoulders and weeping eyes were a bit of a giveaway.
Ironically enough what we had in store was barriers to me working, which in itself gave me the opportunity to get off my chest how I felt at the time, to give Keely an insight into how it affects me. Tellingly, the first thing I said about why this bout of depression was getting to me, was my ex.
Oh goodness, I’m trying to move on. I know it’s over. Hell, I’m on dating websites, getting e-mails and messages from people that have taken a shine to me. Yet, she has got to me like nobody else has. She really was ‘the one’.
Not any more though. I guess I’ll never stop loving her, and have to move on with life, without her, and deal with it. If only I knew why she left me. I’m certain if there was that closure, I can duly move on, and stop myself feeling like this.
I digress. Keely was understanding, and mentioned about other people she sees who have had similar experiences. I could almost see the hurt in her, too. She could see my silent self-tormenting by the external internalising I’d done in front of her.
Anyway, Keely was and is absolutely certain she can find me a place back into the rat race. I blushed at all the qualities she wrote about me on her form. Some of it I even acknowledged was true. Maybe my turn will come after all. Especially with a helping hand from all the Keely’s in this world. They’re the ones who hold it all together.
There’s also something to look forward to next week. Cindy from the Citizens Advice Bureau obligingly called this morning. She wanted me to pop by on Monday morning and see if I can lend a hand to their social policy, a section where they demonstrate cause and effect of legal, company and political actions and decisions. I find it fascinating even now, let alone Monday!
So things, externally leastways, are beginning to look up. If only I can transfer that internally. I’m battling to as well. Plenty of long walks, whether it be job searching or purely for my own health.
Curiously, the walks do me little good, despite evidence to the contrary. My mind fills up with negative thoughts, with pining for a lost love, with anything that brings me down. It infuriates me. Why can’t I just wander along with nothing on my mind except how nice the seafront is or wondering if I can get a bus?
I guess if I knew that, I wouldn’t need therapy. The one thing I’m certain of though, if it takes another day or another decade, is that I’ll find why I do that, and find a way to stop it. Until then, I’ll have to put up with being me. I might be nice, but it ain’t nice, you know.
It will be, though. It will be.