Not Dealing

Good morning, Readers.

This might be a downer post.  Or it might be nothing at all.  I'm not particularly motivated to write a blog post today.  I'm not particularly motivated to do anything much at all.

Ah, the downward swing of depression.

Image courtesy of Ars Technica. Click for link.

This morning, I'm forcing myself to eat breakfast.  Even though my taste buds tell me it's delicious, it takes all I have to swallow.  I'm not hungry.  I don't want food.  Eating is unpleasant.

Ordinarily, breakfast is one of my favourite things in the world.  Not today.

I've been here before.  I know what it is.  I'm having an episode.  They strike infrequently now that I'm out of the toxic environment that was high school.  But there is no schedule.  I don't know when they will strike or what might trigger them.  This one is particularly bad, too.  It started last night.  Halfway through training I felt the shift in mood and I knew that a rough couple of days are on their way.

I had to force myself to eat last night as well.  It was the same.  I had just trained for two hours, and then went for a half hour run.  I should have been famished.  But the thought of food turned my stomach and the nightly ritual of making myself dinner just seemed too much effort.  In the end, I forced myself into the kitchen.  Then I forced the food into my mouth.  I was like a robot.

Pick up fork.  Put food in mouth.  Chew.  Swallow.  Repeat.

This morning, I slept in.  I had ten minutes to rush from my bed to the bus.  Over sleeping is another symptom.  Just opening my eyes in the morning induces a bone-weary fatigue.  My limbs feel like lead.  I don't want to be anywhere.  I don't want to be doing anything.  It's not that I'm sad, exactly.  It's like I'm empty, a husk of a person.

I made it to work.  And today I will walk, and talk.  I will smile and greet people with a cheery 'good morning.'  But this morning isn't good.  Not for me.  All the talking and the smiling, and the routine will be just as hollow as I am.

It makes me want to cry, but I'm too tired for tears.

Why am I telling you this?  Well there are two reason, really.

The first is that if you meet me and I appear withdrawn, distant and ill-tempered, you'll know why.  Please understand that it's not you.  It's me.  I'm not in a good place right now.  I'll get over it eventually, but you will need to be patient with me at the moment.

The second is that maybe, just maybe, there is someone reading this that has experienced or is currently experiencing something similar.  You are not alone.  One of worst things about depressive episodes like this is that is can be so alienating.  I almost never feel lonely; except during one of my episodes.  In this condition, it is so easy to believe the fallacy that no one else is hurting the same way.  The truth is, lots of people do and are.  They just never talk about it.  So I'm talking about it.  You are not alone.  I understand.  And I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  This is an awful place to be.

Please also know that though it doesn't seem like it at present, this will pass.  It has before.  It will again.

In the meantime, I have to make a special effort to look after myself.  I have to force the food into my body.  I won't like it, but I'll swallow down breakfast because I know that I need to look after this body if I have any hope of saving my mind.  I'll go to training for the same reason, even though the thought of facing people at the moment makes my skin crawl.  I'll fight through this.  I always do.

Image courtesy of Driver Layer. Click for link.

And a song for today (even though it's technically about love, it works for life as well):

And last but not least, a massive thank you to the wonderful Wil Wheaton, whose frank public discussions on his own experiences with depression and anxiety have helped me feel not quite so alone.

Ciao.