Depression

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I’ve struggled with depression all of my life. I never identified it as such until the last five years, but its always been there. I’ve become undesirably acquainted with this mental state. When it rears its ugly head I think to myself, “Fuck, not again”. 

For any of you who have suffered from depression you know how crippling it can be. People will try to solve the problem for you by telling you what they think you need. While their intentions are good it doesn’t help. The only thing that can be done is to wait it out. I’m lucky, in that my bouts of depression come in small spurts; one day, maybe two. Once it fades I feel like a new person; ripe with energy and ready to take on the world. But when it hits me it hits me hard and I never know when it’s going to.

I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to move. I just want to lay in bed and zone out to tv….immersing myself into a functional fictional life so I don’t forget that I’ll have that again soon. 

It’s a truly terrible feeling. And the negative self-talk overwhelming. I’ll be forced to cancel all plans and as a result I see myself as a failure. I call myself lazy. And I feel weak for surrendering to the depression. Sometimes it can feel like I’m drowning.

Since my accident these dark visits are more frequent. I guess it’s because my brain is working so hard to heal itself that sometimes it can’t make the happy chemicals. The only things I know to do, the only thing I can do, is shut everyone out. 

It’s a strange experience. To be so pulled to adventure and being around others one minute to wanting just the opposite the next. I start to feel like I don’t know who I am. Wondering which one is the real me? Doubting my ability to accomplish something real when I’m always unsure and worried when this will hit…afraid I will let others down. 

This is my battle. It’s part of who I am. I’ve learned to accept it. As I lay here in bed like I have been for the past six hours I know it will pass. My grandmother is in the living room, she comes and checks on me…asking if I am going to come out…I can’t explain this to her. So, I come out and try to feel something…but theres nothing there…just guilt for being this way.

It will pass, like it always does. But right now I’m in the thick of it. For anyone who is suffering from the same thing I’m not going to give you advice. Just letting you know that you’re not alone.