Sometimes, all you see is darkness.
If you’ve never suffered from depression, I don’t expect you to grasp just how dark the lightest of situations can become. You have to experience the terror for yourself, that horrendous feeling when you close your eyes and reality stretches away, out of your reach. I always used to be exposed, stuck in the middle, unable to move and powerless to act as the frames of reference just extended out of a grasp desperate to pull you back to the reality you suddenly want to avoid. It makes me uncomfortable writing this, shoulders and back prickling, a shudder that often accompanies, of all things, arousal. There’s a lot to be said for understanding every emotion you experience, so you can link them together or try and explain to people what’s going on in your head.
Mostly, you spend the dark days fighting a permanent tide trying to pull you under.
Yes, its like walking into the wind, or listening to the same song over and over again until you want to break things. It can become wearing, damaging and ultimately frustrating, but ultimately talking about it does help, and that’s why I’m here. Last night I knew the drop was coming and so I went and pre-empted it: removing myself from all the things that would make things worse, taking an early night and leaving it to my subconscious plus fatigue to take the battle elsewhere. I dreamt of making an exhibition of modern art for a particularly picky and critical muse, a man from my past who was always hateful and dismissive of my issues. Then, when a potential white knight appeared to ‘save’ me, my subconscious helpfully prevented him from doing so, forcing me to become the heroine.
I woke up feeling considerably less stressed. I think maybe I’m beginning to work out how I manage this effectively. The fear and anxiety has subsided and actually, I’m just feeling ‘normal’ which I’m going to take. I don’t need to be happy, but I most certainly am not nearly as ‘sad’ as I was yesterday evening so that’s what we’ll start with today.