Note before you read:
This post is a very honest and raw look at my depression as it stands at the moment. It may not be everybody’s cup of tea but I need to be able to write these kinds of posts – for myself and for others that are feeling something similar or have little contact with depression and wish to understand more. If you choose not to continue reading I completely understand and I’ll see you on my next post!
It sucks the marrow from my bones. It illuminates every negative thought I have ever felt about myself and my life. It saps my energy and defeats me before the battle has even started. It makes me acutely aware of how dirty my life is at the moment. My car, my home, my body, my mind, my soul. Cluttered with unnecessary stuff that I just need to let go of. But stuck in the mire that is my depression.
It’s a game I play – but it’s not a game! It’s my life. Make a choice, clean up that corner then fill the space up with something new! Something just as likely to become messy and unhelpful. Something to eventually lose control of. Addictive personality? Unhelpful label! No, we’ll call it ‘behaviours that are the result of the avoidance of my discomfort of difficult thoughts and feelings!’
Food! Television! Social media! Alcohol! Pornography! Drugs! Exercise! Shopping! Gaming! Gambling! They line up like products on a supermarket shelf. All promising short term gratification, all delivering long term despair! Which to choose this week? Do I actually choose or do they choose me?
Why not choose to sit with the discomfort of those difficult thoughts and feelings? Why not sit with the fear of showing who you really are and actually accepting and loving that little girl within? Why not share the debilitating grief and loneliness that feels like your skin has been peeled back and salt has been rubbed into the raw flesh! Why not embrace the fact that you are always going to be the fat mother, sister, aunty, friend and love yourself anyway! Why not acknowledge that fact that you are unemployable and your finances are always going to be an issue?
Because – if I show who I really am and I don’t like myself and you don’t like me … what happens next? Because – eight years have gone and I thought I would be much further on than I am, so what must you be thinking about my sadness and what if this is it and I am to be alone for the rest of my life? Because – I hate my body and the way it looks and feels, and if I can’t stand myself, what hope do I have finding someone else to love me? Because – that would mean my hopes and dreams of travel and most importantly, security, would have gone down the drain, and I will continue to be a burden on my friends and family.
Depression chooses for me. It sends that black dog to curl up with me on the couch and eat my way through 13 episodes of sense8 or The Night Manager for the 12 time! Depression covers me with that heavy blanket that seems to only allow fear to escape rather than prayer. Depression takes away the joy and anticipation of events to attend and fills me with the dread of what to wear and how to afford it.
But I know it will eventually pass. I know with therapy and medication and talking and writing, I will slowly crawl out of this hole. I know this because I have before. I have no idea how long it will take. I am hanging onto this knowledge.