We sit in the dark corner of our minds, together, yet alone. Hoping for life's answers to come and shine down upon us like a beacon of hope. And when we don't see the beacon, we finally gather the strength and wits to dig ourselves out of the pit. Make a little bit of room to poke our heads out. Convince ourselves that this is better. And it is. Better. We're better.
But does anyone with depression ever get completely better? Is there a such thing as being done with depression?
I don't think so. It's like all of a sudden you're living in your beautiful house, sun shining on your face, head leaned back onto your favorite chair and bombs start going off. Glass shattering, the world crumbling around you. And then you remember that crawl space that you used to go to that was so comfortable. And so you get on your knees and you go for that hole. It's lonely and it's dark, but it's quiet and familiar. You know you'll be safe here for now. You can stay here.
The danger comes when you don't want to come out of the hole. When the booms have quieted and the glass is swept, you refuse to budge. The world is still so fucking dangerous. As soon as you come out, you could be blown to bits and you'd rather stay put. Rather lurk in your darkness, under your layers upon layers of blankets and self flagellation. You'd simply rather not be, than have to come out again.
You will yourself to die. To disappear into nothing. But you can't. Your heart won't stop pumping blood and your lungs are filling with air. You don't even have to tell them to do this, but they do because they know that these are times when they are going to have to carry you.
These are automated bodily functions because there are times when we just don't have the strength to breathe in. There are times when we would just tear our hearts away to nothing and allow blood flow to stop, just to take a break from it all. If these systems needed us to be at 100% all the time, we wouldn't exist. We would perish quickly because the answer, when you feel so isolated, so deep in your hole, so down under those blankets, is to do nothing. There will come a day in everyone's life when they feel like they need to feel nothing.
I'm not at nothing yet, but when you live for so long in a state of depersonalization, you are always in one of it's suburbs.
I'm a control freak. When I was a kid, I got forced to do all sorts of things that I hated because "it was good for me". And now I am an insanely paranoid, hyper structured, over planning, hypochondriac. We're stuck in a city we can't afford and I keep being told
that we have to wait to see if we are moving soon. I don't know if
we'll be here, if we'll be there. Or somewhere entirely else. I can't
plan if I don't have this answer. I can't see where I'm going. I feel completely
reckless. Aimless. Pointless. I cannot function if I don't have an
endgame. The whole "will we/won't we" is killing me. I need a place to
focus my energy and I can't plan for both scenarios anymore, I need a
But I don't have one. So I've stopped functioning. My
house is a mess. My kids haven't done their homework yet. Hell, it's 4pm
and I don't even know what to make for dinner. I've stopped giving all
the fucks. No fucks left. I'm just not a person who can live in the now.
I just can't. I need a dream. A bigger picture, a place that's better
than this, an opportunity that's beyond suburban housewife so I can
catch up and get on the same page with my head again. I need to have a dream. My soul yearns to swim in the stars, enraptured in magic. Passion is my fuel, even if that passion is only focused on finding a good school district and perusing Joss & Main and Etsy for things I might, maybe, buy someday for my imaginary dream house.
going to watch Grey's Anatomy and sleep. I'm going to do as much of
nothing as I can do and just admit to myself silently that this
situation has me trapped in, yet another, endless cycle of depression. I'm going to lay in my hole, laugh at and take my Prozac and allow myself to mope. But I'm not moving in. I'm just going to get far enough in to allow myself access to the cozy covers, unlimited junk food and binge tv watching and then I'll be back out when I get my answer. I know my passions and right now, they need to be turned off. Right now, I have to be still, do nothing and try to be at peace with that. I tried it in the car the other day. Just closed my eyes while Jude drove and I just let myself breathe. I almost felt free from it all for a minute. My mind was still. Quiet. It was nice. Maybe, one day I'll be able to just be. And maybe doing stuff I don't like will be good for me after all.
For now, if you need me, I'm the feral girl in the blankets, eating cherry poptarts.