I feel like, more and more as the days pass, that I’m coming apart at the seams. I’ve never felt my depression as hard as I have these last few weeks, and it seems like the moment I start to reach the surface another wave comes crashing down over me.
I’m not sure what that means in the grand scheme of things, because honestly when I was thirteen years old and dreaming of my future, it was never something I saw – my being 30 – I never planned a grand life after the age of sometime in my mid-twenties, and I’m not sure there are many people who did. No matter what ’13 Going on 30′ tried to convince us, when we were that age I don’t know anyone who was thinking “I’m going to be a mildly successful business woman with three kids when I’m 30!” because seriously, that seems so far away at that age, why plan ahead?
But when you get there, you find yourself grasping at threads and trying to keep yourself together – or at least I do, I know most people have some modicum of direction in their life at this point, I just happen to be really bad at directions. It feels like where my seams are coming apart bits and pieces of fluffy me are coming out and it’s hard to keep track of them, and instead they’re all mixing up in dust and dander from my own life and others and it’s hard to recognise exactly where I am in all the mess.
Music doesn’t have the same sort of property it has the last few years of my life – this isn’t saying I dislike music now, it’s just less likely to change my direction of feeling for more than a few moments at a time. It can still make me cry, or smile, but at the same time I find myself wallowing in things that are not nearly as important as the things that are going on in the lives of those closest to me.
And so, in some form of fucked up over-correction, I end up wallowing in their sadness as well, as if I can soak it up just by existing and being near them, and in the end I don’t take their sadness away but I add to my own, like fucking Katamari style bullshit that I don’t even understand.
I spend most of my time being sad, being mad at myself for being sad, and thinking on the losses I’ve had in my life and where it all started to go so hard downhill. The loss of the romantic love I’ve had in my heart for the last six years was a big hit, but to be fair the same thing happens every time I find myself giving in to that kind of feeling. It’s fine to love someone and be unrequited as long as they aren’t loving someone else, and that’s a bit fucked on my part.
The things I should take pleasure in – like writing, RP, music, and gaming – seem to be leading me more towards disappointment and restlessness than they do towards joy. I feel like I want to accomplish things, nostalgia game, find new music, write new and interesting RPs or stories, and even just have a moment where it isn’t a constant reminder that I’m failing in some part, failing someone in a moment of weakness.
Intrusive thoughts happen more than I’d like to admit, and even though they’re not completely ridiculous, they’re still unwanted. Thoughts of death and how peaceful it would be – and no, this isn’t a cry for help, it really is just a thought that passes through my mind and is gone, I’m at no risk of actually doing anything to myself. I have people to talk to if it comes up so I don’t need the prevention team on my face, but honestly, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t think of these things from time to time.
I want to be able to create things that make those closes to me forget about their pain for a little bit – to make Talen smile more than he frowns – but it seems like the closest I can get is little ditties of happiness in a mass of sadness. I don’t know how to deal with the feelings of helplessness that come from someone you love being sad, and I know that people sometimes feel the same way about me, or at least he does, but honestly…
It’s becoming a kind of constant for me, to always be trying to rectify feelings in myself and end up taking that moment of reflection and turning it on its ear, where I end up once again sad and wallowing in things that I really shouldn’t be.
Depression is a four letter word that people think the mention of means your life is falling apart, but the fact of the matter is I am always depressed – it’s not something that happens just when I have an exorbitant amount of sadness – it’s just always there. I’m usually fine with self-managing and keeping things under control, but it’s when the shit really starts to hit the fan that it comes up the most, so when I do finally mention it people merely take it as “well, she’s having a bit of a shit day.” but…
All my days often feel shit, I’m just usually much better at justifying why it’s okay to be a little sad, and lately I cannot think of a reason that I should be allowed to feel that when people around me are falling apart so hard that they can barely recognise themselves either.
I understand that I have the same feeling, but I feel like mine is less justified, and that I should just stand up and straighten my back and tug them against me so they have some place to lean, but then as soon as they do I’m slumping and being worse for them than I have any right to be.
I know there are people who would argue that you have a right to be sad, and that sadness cannot be weighed against other sadness, and to a degree that’s true. But I feel like being sad because of a reason you don’t even know doesn’t compare to the sadness that exists when you lose someone you love – they might not be able to cancel each other out in a battle royale of who should feel it more, because sadness exists without justification… it’s going to happen and you should not feel bad for it, but I think you should be able to step back and look at things with some form of objectivity and go, “Hey, my friend is falling apart because every thing in their life is dying or sick or just fucked up, why am I spending time being sad when I could be spending it help them.” and… then when you cannot seem to pull out of that nosedive, things get worse.
Being able to help would be immensely gratifying, but again, it shouldn’t be about what I want or what I need out of things, and yet still the frustration exists, and here’s the rub… the more frustrated I get, the more things get pushed under the rug on their side of things because it’s just so much easier to not put that shit on me and handle it themselves. Do you see how that works? Do you see how that can make someone feel even shittier?
When you share everything with someone – the things that make you sad or happy or even just ridiculously random things – you want them to be able to do the same in return without the worry of you taking it badly because of you own level of crap. Yet instead there’s a moment where they feel the need to completely ignore their own pain and not tell you about it because it might draw your day into the shitter further and they don’t want to be responsible for that. The thought that “there are some things I can’t share with you” is wreckingly painful, and then even with that you feel shitty for being upset about it.
My mind refuses to shut up half the time lately and now I’m having issues sleeping and things are getting all twisted and turned around. I have no idea if anyone even gives a shit, but sometimes you need to get things out of you in the vein of loosing poison from your veins before it consumes you. Who knows, maybe this’ll even help me calm down some, but I highly doubt it.