Melancholia

I need to preface this by saying that I don't want to sound like I need pity, or that I want people to give me words of encouragement or anything like that.  In fact, I often DON'T post things like this because it somehow makes people feel the need to feel bad for me and i don't want that.

I just want to share the way I feel and, hopefully, give someone else a reason to go on.

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Anyway!

I am super depressed right now.  It seems like I always am, but that's mostly because I write in here when I am dwelling on something.  I am not always miserable.

I have no motivation at all.  Showering, putting on clothes, doing dishes.  Even reading a book is overwhelming right now.  I am so physically weak and exhausted and it's taking its toll on me.

Because I am so depressed, I cant do anything.  Because I can't do anything, I feel depressed.  It's a vicious cycle and I am hoping to get out of it soon.

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There was a period of a few years (not too far back) in which I was happy and eating well and doing great.  I was able to get out and visit with friends and actively participate in life.  It had come after almost a decade of misery and I was so happy to get to experience it.

And then.

Then it started again, and it shocks me with its intensity, even after all these years of going through it.  Like, when I get my period.  I KNOW it will hurt, but I am always shocked by how much.  I've been going through it for 30 years.  I should know and anticipate it, but I am still taken aback each and every time.

So it is with this cloud.  I know how dark and damaging it can be, and yet it always takes me by surprise.  I know I have a 100% success rate of getting past it, and that kind of helps.

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The thing about depression is that it is not sadness.  I am not sad and nothing in particular is bothering me.  It's the very lack of sadness that makes it so confusing.

Depression (to me) is a lack of feelings.  I don't care about much.  I have loads of laundry to fold.  A sink full of dishes.  My living room looks like a hurricane went through it.  My hair is a mess of knots.

And yet, I don't care.

I find myself annoyed when people message me.  Like, fuck.  Now I have to message them back (don't stop messaging me, though!  If you have patience with me, I promise I will try).  I get irritated when people talk to me or expect me to do things.  Anger is my predominant emotion.

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I feel bad for the girls, most of all.  They want their mom to be happy.  And I AM.  Which sounds contradictory.  Depressed is not the opposite of happiness, though.  Bear with me.

I am happy when they are happy.  I am happy when they hug me and tell me they love me.  I am happy when they show me little crafts they have done (without my help, thank God).  They make me happy.

I am happy when the dog or the cats snuggle me.  I love feeling their warm bodies next to me in bed.  They are a huge comfort to me, and I completely get why people need service animals. 

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But.

I am just so over life.  And no, I do not mean I am suicidal.  I am just so over getting up and getting dressed and leaving the house.  Mike was off for the weekend and I was just so happy to not have to go anywhere.

I am in bed constantly and eating like shit and just being a huge downer.  I force myself to load the dishwasher occasionally and I took down the garbage this morning.  I feel so accomplished when I do small things like that.

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I get so angry, too.  Why do I have to go through this?  If there were something legitimate to make me sad, I would understand.  Why do I have to be so tied of my life that I want to escape from it all the time?  Why can't I just be normal and have normal fucking emotions?  I hate it so much.

I hate making excuses for not leaving the house or for not messaging someone.  I hate that my body hurts physically in direct proportion to the pain my head (not literal pain in my head).  I am tired of getting angry with every little thing.

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When I post funny things on Facebook, it is because I genuinely find them funny.  I laugh all the time.  I wish depression made sense.  But, it doesn't.  It just makes me angry.