Talking About Depression

Trying to talk about depression is frustrating.

ESPECIALLY when you’re trying to talk to someone who’s never experienced it.  Who manages to pull themselves out of a funk and carry on.

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

But people want to help. So they try harder to make you feel hopeful and positive about the situation. You explain it again, hoping they’ll try a less hope-centric approach, but re-explaining your total inability to experience joy inevitably sounds kind of negative; like maybe you WANT to be depressed. The positivity starts coming out in a spray — a giant, desperate happiness sprinkler pointed directly at your face. And it keeps going like that until you’re having this weird argument where you’re trying to convince the person that you are far too hopeless for hope just so they’ll give up on their optimism crusade and let you go back to feeling bored and lonely by yourself. 

Taken from Hyperbole and a Half.

It gets frustrating when I talk to myself about it even.

Seriously.

“Just get up.  Go exercise.  You’ll feel better.  WHY ARE YOU LAYING ON THE COUCH??”

But I lay there. I don’t do anything.  And I can’t figure out why even though I know that it’s the depression that’s keeping me where I am.

Exercise Underutilized

 

I think to myself… just fucking do it.  What are you waiting for?

And I don’t.

And then I feel guilty.  And then I beat myself up over it.

Because I know… logically, clinically, that I have a mental fucking illness… and that I need help… but some days, I can’t seem to move past where I am.

I’m getting help.  I go see my doctor, and my counsellor, and will see my psychiatrist when I finally get an appointment.   But the part of me that says “hey you can do this on your own” leaves me feeling helpless and overwhelmed.

Try explaining that one.   The “I know if I just get up, I’ll feel better but I don’t get up and I don’t know why” mentality.

I don’t like feeling this way.  I don’t want to feel this way.  I want to be happy and excited and just fucking love life.

I know it can happen.

I just don’t know how to get there…

 

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About sunnyjane

On a journey of fitness, health and healing. One blog focuses primarily on health & fitness (sunnyjane.wordpress.com) and the other is about my path through widowhood (widowspath.wordpress.com) Life is a Journey. I'm learning to enjoy the ride.
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