I didn’t forget about this blog, I swear.
I just didn’t have anything to say…?
No, that’s a shitty excuse, to be honest.
I just didn’t want to do it anymore.
I fell into a depressive episode that month and stayed in it for this whole year.
Truthfully, I’m not out of the depressive episode. I’m not ever going to get out of it. And that’s a hard pill to swallow. Even if my other posts slightly talked about my thought on my depression being a forever thing, I never really wanted to admit it. Admit that my depression will never leave me. That I will struggle with it for the rest of my life.
The only reason I got back on here is because of an old friend, who I had named Tardis in many of my old blogs on here.
I felt compelled to at least come on here and explain lots of feelings I’ve been having these past months and what Tardis and I discussed in our messages between each other.
I am not happy. And you would think that is not anything strange with someone who is depressed. But even depressed people can sometimes be able to do things that make them happy. But…. nothing is making me happy anymore. I’ve lost the passion for reading, writing, going outside, playing with my dogs. Everything. I look into my future and I don’t see myself doing anything, being with anyone. But like, I’m not dead or anything. I’m just not really there, you know?
Maybe I’m going crazy so slowly that I haven’t even noticed that I’m now neck deep in quick sand and now panicking as I’m trying to get out.
Tardis said that I’m stuck. I have to agree with that. I’ve been stuck for 3 years now. Time is my enemy. And 3 years have just drifted away from my weak hands.
I am seized every day by an uncontrollable fear. I think and think and think and suddenly I can’t breathe with all these thoughts swirling inside my head. I want to live and be free and do the things I want to do, even though I do not know what they are, yet when I think of school and of living…. I’m drowning and struggling against the terror and instinctual retreating into my shell.
Tardis told me I need to leave, get out of the place I am now. How can I? Where would I go? I have no money, no support anywhere else. I have two dogs. I don’t have health insurance, my car is my brothers because he pays for it and the insurance. I have nothing to my name, other than W’s and F’s on my transcripts.
I live everyday with anxiety pooling inside my gut. But I live with it because, well, it’s never going to leave anyway.
I am hollow.
Sometimes I look around and realize “Oh, yeah, this is my life. That’s right. Oh yeah, that’s what my face looks like. Oh, I guess I am feeling sad today.”
I feel a disconnection with how I am alive and how to live life. I struggle everyday with thoughts of not thinking highly of myself, of how I’m a failure, how I can’t make anyone happy, that I’m a shitty person and even shittier friend. I plug earphones in and drown out my screaming thoughts, yet I can still hear them no matter what.
I lay in bed and wish I never have to get up. I don’t want to face the world. I don’t want to face anything.I want to sleep and stay asleep.
I want to try to live, but I do not know how. I want to wake up one day and know that I am happy and content and that can lessen the storm of my depression.
Tardis wants me to place positive affirmations in my room. Or to have a positivity journal. To take up a hobby again, such as crafting and video gaming. Take a run when my anxiety flares up. “They are distractions” she said, “but it turns the energy into something productive.”
I will try. The cycle is vicious and damaging, but I will try.