It’s the text at three in the morning, “What’s wrong.” And you don’t have a proper answer to it.
It’s the phone call late at night as you hold back tears.
It’s standing in a crowd and you’re overcome with this wave of loneliness so you reach for another cigarette, trying to feel better.
It’s the over thinking and anxiety that keeps you tossing and turning.
Depression has been my shadow for as long as I can remember. Always there, always present, always waiting to kick me when I am down. I have, for the most part, hidden my depression and the sickening thoughts that accompany it.
There have been days that I have fallen so deeply into the darkness of this feeling that I couldn’t make myself walk to the kitchen for something to eat. I have stayed in bed for days at a time, laying there, alternating between sleeping and staring at the ceiling in silence.
At first, I’d try to explain that it’s not really negativity or sadness anymore, it’s more just this detached, meaningless fog where you can’t feel anything about anything — even the things you love, even fun things — and you’re horribly bored and lonely, but since you’ve lost your ability to connect with any of the things that would normally make you feel less bored and lonely, you’re stuck in the boring, lonely, meaningless void without anything to distract you from how boring, lonely, and meaningless it is.
Anhedonia is real, it is not something that can easily be shaken. It is the self loathing that wakes us at 2 a.m. and the voice that whispers “you are nothing to anyone”, as we lay in bed wishing we could sleep. It is the 10 a.m. cigarette that we need, to lower the volume of our self doubts. It is sitting on the bathroom floor because you feel too sick to move but you knowing that you can’t possibly have anything to vomit because you really haven’t eaten anything in days.
I don’t think it happened over night — but at some point I suddenly realised that everything had become impossible. For a period of time I hadn’t felt any emotions at all, and spent a large amount of my time feeling as if I wasn’t in my own body but just spectating. I was simply existing — if you can even call it that. I would walk around, do what was needed or expected of me, then crawl back into my bed until my next obligation. Eventually, I stopped getting out of bed.
After said period of feeling nothing, I then started to feel all of the emotions. Sad ones.
I liken those days to trying to climb out of a well that keeps getting deeper, until eventually you can’t see any light at the top.
I started to lose myself.Read More »