I have been through every emotion in the cycle of one week. I am not experience any known biological process, its just been one of those weeks I suppose. I am tired, through and through.
I was starting to become depressed Wednesday-- I remember vividly. I was in the shower at the gym after working out in step class, asking myself why I am always writing when I am sad, never when I am happy. I feel like writing is a reflex and happiness is a state to relish in-- no questions asked. To clarify, I wasn't depressed or sad specifically at that moment, but I could feel the internal clouds rolling in.
I hate the words happy and sad. Such a complex myriad of feelings compressed into small words.
I went to a bible study after working out on Wednesday and the topic was adversity. When prompted, I really couldn't find of a moment where I had adversity or really typical moments of like "Woe is me!!" Just two days later, I can list a whole litany of problems I am having. It has been a downward spiral and I am just tired. I slept enough I think last night, but I am just tired from my bones. Every disapproval is a dagger on my weakened flesh, but more importantly the knifes holstered in my heart are double and thrown at those around me, creating a vicious cycle of acting out of vulnerabilities. Why am I so broken? I just want to sleep.
I listed to a poetry slam that talked about how she wouldn't write her friend an obituary. I am concern of effect and cause when it comes to the darkness. Did watching this video and reminding me of suicide now cause my internal mantra to resume its familiar rhythm?
I stand up: "I want to die". I am driving down the street and stop at a red light: "I want to die." I send another email: "Okay, I need to email Jenny and Tim. I want to do die."
My brother told me to get a another hobby to distract myself. He actually doesn't know about this problem. I have another problem about that boy I keep talking about. It's a pretty strong unrequited love situation really. He's nice. He will let me message him and bother him during the working day and even talk to me at events I know he will be at and attend. But at the end of the day, when reality comes crashing that there is no hope, that he doesn't ever see a future with me, he doesn't like me like that, and how foolish I must look pouring so much of my life into this guy who most people would not really spend more than a moment on, I come crashing back down. I am addicted to the idea of someone caring.
(The first victim of this pattern and I talked about this years after we both went our own ways. He told me he was confused as to what our relationship was, that I didn't respect his inability to be emotionally available, and that while he was disinterested, he wasn't going to go out of his way to stop me from showering him with attention. I told him I was struggling with depression. He rolled his eyes and said "Oh my God." He thought I was trying to compete in terms of mental issues. I just wanted him to say, "Huh, I had no idea. I'm glad your getting better.")
So a hobby? I can't imagine what I could possibility add. Can sleeping be a hobby? The doctor told me not to oversleep as any deviation from the 7-9 hours can trigger the imbalance. But I want to sleep. For forever.
It's really scary that in states now doctors can help you commit suicide. People say its an expansion of rights. Control. Control on something when you have nothing.
I am not free when I am depressed. The mantra rings in my ears in every task I do and I want to sleep and I want to hate people and I want to hide and I want to eat all the candy and drink all the pop and I want to cut all the fat from my waist and I want to run from every person I have ever met and I want to throw my phone at the wall and I want to end the internet and I want every smile removed from the minds of all who know me and just be nothing. I want to die to badly that I wish I was never born. How is this freedom? How is this control on my life? A doctor's role is to heal a sick person. My body is working, healthy, perfect. My perception is clouded by a shroud of the dark lies that I am not good enough for life. It paints my eyes with the lies that all the mistakes I have made are too great to continue on. I need someone to remove this veil, not remove me. I need someone to stop me from removing me.
--
Someone just came over and saw me writing this and he read it and got really nervous and then just smiled at me. Inhale. Exhale. Okay, that was pretty embarrassing, but it happened, and I am fine now.
I'll keep going.
