April 3rd, 2018
I have to get better. It feels like I am stuck between a cloud and an ocean. Most of winter was spent either floating or sinking. These last couple of weeks have been a bit above the ocean. Despiste my obvious improvement, it still feels minimal. For some reason I get stuck right before the clouds. They stop me, like a ceiling, from seeing or rising any farther. Yesterday and today I felt myself sinking. The worst part is looking down. It’s like my own mind feels tempted by the restraints of gravity. I don’t sink until I see myself falling. I panic immediately by the sight. Knowing about nothingness and feeling it overwhelm my mind is briefly the most stress and anxiety inducing event in my life. It’s like being told you are going back into a coma. Everytime is different. How do you have different nothingness? Personally, my nothingness is felt in various amounts.
Depression is varying amounts of mental/emotional blindness It’s like trying on someone else’s glasses. It ranges from mild blur to complete darkness. There are points that I know I can be helped. The disease itself is ultimately my problem. But, people being people, need help from time to time. What I am really trying to say is I only take in the help between mild blur and just a bit darker. After my nothingness consumes so much of what I think or feel, I am essentially deaf. I have always felt sympathy for those persistent enough to try and help me during that time. I regardless of how much I truly might care about that person, I cannot mentally or emotionally take in what they are trying to tell me. Or even if I can a little bit, it takes so much time and energy to process, it might not actually help or be registered until hours or days later. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the massive amounts of support from my friends or family that I do receive. I do know how much is here for me and how much I get for just being myself, but when I am catatonic or crying because I want to feel something, it’s so hard to take in rationality. When you have an ongoing mental disease, rationality will often times take the back seat to whatever the hell your body is going to do next. Feeling like you can be suddenly dropped into a pit or drown in an ocean at any moment is not rational. Having a life that nearly anyone would call good or great and sinking into nothingness for almost no apparent reason for years or months or days or hours at a time, is not rational. I have a depressive disorder.
I am unemployed because in my last job I had to call in 4 times within my first 90 days for migraines. Their policy doesn’t allow that. A lot of my interests are either in creative or heavily debated topics. That being said, motivation for the things I enjoy is low. Motivation for anything is low. When I take my meds, more often than not they help. On days like today, they make me antsy and anxious to start something but I am also depressed. I am eager but unmotivated. My heart is racing and blood is flowing but I am sitting still and looking at all the things I should do. I am hurting myself with names and loathing aimed at myself. I used to cut. I have words written deeply into my leg. It’s been years since the first one but the word “Worthless” is still legible. Sometimes it’s a reminder of how bad things used to be and sometimes it’s a reminder about how bad I still am. Even though a lot of my trails of thought lead towards suicide, I have grown enough over the 10 years of my illness that I only have to wait for tomorrow for things to change. I am 19 and trying desperately to begin a life I can be proud of. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.