Today the weather matches my insides. The sky has returned to its usual grey gloom, raining not enough to be beautiful but just enough to make the day feel a little bit sad. I awoke this morning sore and unrested despite oversleeping, and as I became more conscious my mind felt the fog of depression slowly creeping in. I slumped down the staircase feeling as if I had already been defeated before the day had begun.
Sometimes my depression is triggered while other times it decides to antagonize me just because it has the option. Most days I can fight back furiously, managing to quell it before it turns monstrous, while other times it starts out as a leviathan that easily takes me over. Instead of fighting I can only try my best to survive with it until it returns to the back of my mind where it waits until it decides to attack once more.
As I have expressed before, due to my many illnesses, treating one without aggravating the others has become a complicated challenge. I have tried many medications for my anxiety and depression, yet every single one gives me either an allergic reaction or some other adverse effect that make me more unhealthy; I’m not a doctor, but I’m sure it isn’t supposed to go that way.For many of my illnesses I am left to my own devices when it comes to treatment. It is unbelievably irritating and frustrating because being sick is difficult, but being sick without much help, mental or physical, is infinitely worse.
I’ve noticed that despite becoming consistently more open in my blog, I seem to be doing the opposite in my daily life. Lately I am somewhat adverse to expressing how I truly feel to those closest to me. Part of me believes this is because I am exhausted of people not knowing what to say, minimizing me or not listening at all. This exhaustion is a mix of aggravation and fear, and it keeps me silent, or at most only expresses a small part of how I feel rather than being entirely honest. I realize how strange this is considering I seem perfectly fine with bearing my soul to the entire internet, but what can I say. I’m a little bit odd.
Though parts of this is a mystery to me, every part of my being agrees that I absolutely hate feeling this way. It is unsettling to feel as if my body is weighed down with concrete while my mind is clouded by unbearable sadness. I keep thinking to myself that I feel like this for no reason, but then remind myself that having clinical depression for my entire life is certainly a good enough reason to feel unwell some days. All day I have felt on the verge of tears, a fragile doll just moments away from falling to pieces. No matter what I do, my depression is louder than my favorite albums, snuggling with a puppy or a warm dish of food I made for myself. My depression is blaring, heavy and as distracting as it can possibly be.
Earlier I had a short conversation with my Momma Rose who I truly adore. She asked me how I was and she could tell that something was clearly amiss, so we sat down and I explained to her just how I was feeling. Finally my tears spilled over onto my cheeks, and I felt myself beginning to come undone. Later on my friend asked me how I was, and I honestly told him, too, to which he replied that he’d do anything he could to help me through my day. It certainly helps when people who are dear to me offer their support, but despite this kindness, depression is cruel and unfair, and I honestly don’t know what I need from myself or others to improve it. I wish more than anything that I knew so that I could ask for help, but the more I try to find an answer the farther I seem to be. I feel helpless as well as irritating to those I love who are caring enough to try to support me, even when none of us are sure how to do it.
Long story short, depression really fucking sucks. I wish I could stick a vacuum in my brain to have it all sucked out of me, but unfortunately that isn’t an option. Whether I am having a good day, an alright day or an impossible day, my depression is always lingering within me. It is always a little cold spot in my heart that keeps frigid no matter how warm I am made to be. Even still, I hope that both myself and those I love never stop trying to give me the warmth I so desperately need on days like these.
Credit for the above art goes to not me (but I am unsure who did it since I used the magical google machine to find it).
And now it’s getting dark and the sky looks sticky,
More like black treacle than tar.
Somebody told the stars you’re not coming out tonight;
And so they found a place to hide.