Living with depression: When you want to do things, but just can’t

It’s going on 7pm – I just got out of bed to feed my cats that had been meowing incessantly and pawing at me for about 2 hours. (The one thing I actually don’t neglect due to depression is my cats, so don’t worry. They eat at the same time every day. They’re just annoying and probably thought I was dead.) As I was lying in bed, I was googling things like “I want to be productive but I can’t” because I had the hope (for the millionth time) that maybe, just maybe, someone out there felt like this as much as I do, found a solution, and wrote about it. Not only did my results come up empty, I found that there are close to no personal accounts from people who feel this way. I don’t have a solution, not even close – but maybe my personal accounts can at least offer comfort to someone else in knowing that they aren’t alone. Maybe, together, some of us can find solutions that work for us.

My stomach has been my enemy all weekend (which sucks even more because I was out of town celebrating my boyfriend’s birthday with his family), so a kind coworker covered my shift for today. I slept late, made an iced latte, and curled up on the couch to catch up on The Bold Type. I told myself that after the episode, my coffee would be kicked in and I would spend the day doing cleaning and laundry. The episode ended, but I was comfy, so I thought I’d play Candy Crush for a couple minutes; well, I ended up getting unlimited lives, so you just can’t stop playing and waste that, right? An hour later, I decided to finally get up and eat some cereal, so I sat back down on the couch with my Honey Bunches of Oats and American Pickers was on. It was a cool episode, so I continued sitting there to watch it. Then, I decided that I was tired and so I went back to bed, played on my phone, and napped. I got up and was contemplating which chore to focus on first, but ended up so overwhelmed at everything that needed to be done that I ended up back in the bed. This is when I was trying to find something online that at least made me feel a little better. To no avail, I ended up looking at school supplies, oxfords, and I believe in Bigfoot t-shirts on Amazon. Since I’m broke and can’t afford anything that I added to my wish list, I thought I’d just go back to sleep. Why bother doing anything? I’m depressed, everything is stupid, and the house will just get dirty again anyway. Tomorrow will be better. Fast forward to my cats telling me that they are literally starving to death – I feed them, make an iced matcha latte, grab my laptop, and go sit outside.

So if by some off chance that you’re still reading, maybe you’ve had many similar days. Maybe you’ve also googled different phrases to no avail. Maybe you’re sick of seeing titles like “When You Want to be Productive, But Lack Motivation,” “How to Conquer Depression” or “10 Tips and Tricks to Overcome Laziness and Get Motivated.” Maybe you also want scream I HAVE MOTIVATION, BUT IT ISN’T ENOUGH!  I’M NOT LAZY, BUT I AM DEPRESSED AND I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MAKE MYSELF DO THINGS!  DOES NO ONE ELSE FEEL THIS WAY?  “JUST DO IT” ISN’T HELPFUL ADVICE!

Maybe I’ll try to make writing this a more regular thing.

Advertisements

Fondness for Silence

I have a fondness for silence 

No matter where I am, it gives me a sense of home

My mind constantly competes with the noise around me

In silence, it stops fighting 

I wander in the calmness, often with eyes closed

To the land I escape to that know one else goes

It’s been a while.

I haven’t felt the need to write lately, mainly because I feel like no one cares what I have to say. But tonight, I have that heavy, anxious feeling in my chest as if words are slowly filling up my veins, and if I don’t let them bleed out, then I will undoubtedly explode.

There are so many topics, sentences, and questions flowing through me – how do I pick out what to write down? After months upon months of nothing, why is this happening now? Words often flow through easier through my veins when I am in a state of depression, so my mental stability comes into question. I know I have been feeling more down and emotional lately, but surely my body realizes that I don’t have time to fall into a state of depression. Right?

Time has made a habit out of making the loss of a loved one easier. Time, this time, has failed me. It has been two years, three months, and six days since I lost my father. The longer he’s gone, the more of my life he’s missing, and the more it hurts like no pain I have ever experienced before. I can feel the emptiness swell through my body like a disease that eats every ounce of energy and happiness that I have left. Mannequins enjoy life more than I do sometimes.

I earned my Associate’s Degree (although useless, it’s still somewhat of an accomplishment), graduated with honors, on the Dean’s List, and a member of two National Honor Societies. You weren’t there, and honestly, I didn’t really want to be there either. I transferred to the university that I swore I’d never go to. I got into the Social Work program, and I’m a member of a couple of organizations. But I haven’t been able to tell you that. You haven’t been able to tell me that you’re proud and that you love me.

That’s what hurts so deeply, Dad. My life is moving forward without you in it. Some days, I want to just stand still. I want to quit, go back to bed, and never wake up. I want to be where ever you are. You are supposed to be here, at least until I’m done with school and get married. No twenty-four year old should have to lose their father. I’ve thought I was an adult since I was a teenager, but losing you was a harsh slap in the face. I still need my daddy, so come back. Come back and guide me, love me, and show me all of the things that I still need to know.

I live in two different realities:

  1. Depression, anxiety, sadness, irritability, anger, swollen eyes, exhaustion, migraines, aches, and pains. Nothing is worse than the sound of my alarm. I dread the thoughts of simply existing. I lack motivation. What is the point in all of this? Why do I stretch myself so thin all of the time? Why do I try so hard and care so much? We are all going to die anyway.
  2. My passions overwhelm me and I have too many things I want to get done. I am ready to start my day with a shower and an iced latte. The weather is beautiful and I want to sit outside, feel the sunshine, and listen to the birds sing. I feel my depression awakening, but I’m able to put her back to sleep. I put my anxiety back to bed as well. I’m able to overcome my negative emotions and everything is okay. I am going to change the world for the better.

To those who don’t struggle with mental illness, I may seem like a manic mess. To those who can relate, they know that this is a normal part of life. To outsiders unaware of my internal struggle, they would never assume anything was wrong. I seem like a ‘normal’ person. Some days, I even feel sort of normal.

My veins no longer feel like they are going to explode from the accumulation of unsaid words. Self-care is important, necessary even. Writing is self-care for me. I am still learning to love and respect myself.

Time. Everything takes time.

Before She Found Herself

Sometime before she fully reached adulthood, she traded in her Dr. Pepper for a whiskey and Coke and sweet tea for a shot of whatever was being offered. She was lost in a whirlwind of emotions and the alcohol made her feel numb- a pleasant state of laughter and what she thought was happiness. The happiness later turned into numerous one night stands (well, sometimes she would go back to the same person), drunk driving, and breakdowns in bathrooms where she vomited and cried by the bathtub of a stranger. None of her questions about life were answered the way she wanted, so she drank more and more until she eventually did not know who she was. She went through the motions, either drunk, hungover, or trying to get through work until she could start the cycle all over again. The panic attacks were getting worse and more frequent, and she could say the same about her depression. The alcohol numbed these and the numerous boys made her feel wanted and beautiful. She felt whole. The problem was that when she woke at 4:36am, she was naked, dehydrated, had a migraine, and was next to someone that did not care about her deeper than what he saw- anxiety and negative emotions flooded her as she gathered her things, got in her car still a little drunk, and drove away.

Emotions

I often find that it’s hard to know how to feel.

Sad? Mad? What is real?

Am I imagining things? Should I really be upset?

Surely I’m crazy.. surely I’m crazy..

Validate my feelings!

Tell me that my emotions are okay;

I know I’m crazy, but tell me that you’d feel the same way.

Tell me I’m not being illogical.

Tell me that everything will be okay.

Wipe away my tears, and please, tell me you’d feel the same way.

t i m e

Time heals all wounds, except for this one
As time goes by, I feel more empty
The longer you’re gone, the more my heart aches
The longer you’re gone, the harder this is to take
Time isn’t on my side this time around
The longer I have to miss you, the harder it is to remember your familiar sound
I miss the scent of your white cotton shirt and the warmth of your chest as I lie my head to the sound of your beating heart
Your heart that no longer beats is now just a memory
Time can’t heal this wound
Time can’t give you back to me

Lost

I feel sick to my stomach and faint of heart
I think of what I’ve lost
I wonder how I’ve kept from completely falling apart
Life is a journey
For some, that journey is hard and cold
Every time I seem to get warm, it starts to snow
Some people are gone due to death taking it’s toll
Some people are gone due to life’s changing roles
Whether taken from the earth, or just from my life, you remain forever in my heart
Whether you are floating in heaven, or walking in a nearby park
If I don’t have you, then I think of what I’ve lost