This.
That post is everything I have ever wanted to say about my depression and more. If you've never heard of Hyperbole and a Half before, I recommend it; Allie's blog is hilarious! I could only wish for half of her eloquence and comedic talent.
Anyway, I hope I find my shriveled up piece of corn soon too.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
I'll Never Be The Same.
You're standing on a bridge overlooking the river. As you stare into the oddly aquamarine depths, you wonder how far down the river bed lies. Just a few meters up, you see a span of earth beneath the surface of the water and estimate that it would be waist-high at the most.
As you lose your heart and your world comes to a complete halt, you idly wonder how long it would take to reach that mound of river bed from the area just below where you're standing, considering the currents and your lack of swimming ability.
You have the urge to jump: not to die, just to feel.
There's an empty space where your heart once resided; no pain, but it's an unbearable sensation - nothing you've ever experienced before. Jumping would give you freedom, if only for a few minutes. It would allow you to feel something different, even temporarily: the cool water in relief of the unseasonal heat, the rush of the free fall, the resistance of the water as you moved against it, adrenaline pumping through your veins, assuring you that despite a lack of beating in your chest, you are indeed still living.
As tempting as it is, you don't jump. It would be pretty dumb considering the currents and your lack of swimming ability. Besides, you don't have a change of clothes, and it would be pretty humiliating if you belly flopped having never dived from anything in your life. No, as much of a rush and relief it would be to jump into the rippling river below, there are other ways to feel again, even if it takes a while to get there.
As you lose your heart and your world comes to a complete halt, you idly wonder how long it would take to reach that mound of river bed from the area just below where you're standing, considering the currents and your lack of swimming ability.
You have the urge to jump: not to die, just to feel.
There's an empty space where your heart once resided; no pain, but it's an unbearable sensation - nothing you've ever experienced before. Jumping would give you freedom, if only for a few minutes. It would allow you to feel something different, even temporarily: the cool water in relief of the unseasonal heat, the rush of the free fall, the resistance of the water as you moved against it, adrenaline pumping through your veins, assuring you that despite a lack of beating in your chest, you are indeed still living.
As tempting as it is, you don't jump. It would be pretty dumb considering the currents and your lack of swimming ability. Besides, you don't have a change of clothes, and it would be pretty humiliating if you belly flopped having never dived from anything in your life. No, as much of a rush and relief it would be to jump into the rippling river below, there are other ways to feel again, even if it takes a while to get there.
Monday, May 6, 2013
All the Things I've Felt, But Never Really Shown.
[sigh]
I think I just triggered myself.
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I think I just triggered myself.
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Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Every "Until Next Time" Feels Like One Bad Punch Line.
I'm exhausted, but every time I turn out the light, close my eyes, and try to fall asleep my mind becomes inondated by thoughts and memories and the accompanying feelings. Each time I'm about to finally drift off, I'm overwhelmed, regardless of how I try to prevent my mind from turning to those figments.
It's no secret (anymore, at least) that I do suffer from a form of depression. There are days where I'm sad for no apparent reason and am completely unable to pull myself from the pit despite all my intentions and attempts to do so. The key component, however, is that whenever I am in one of those depressive phases, it's usually affecting my self-esteem and perspective of self. Today is different.
This week is different.
This state I'm in doesn't have me berating myself or reevaluating my outlook on my prospective future. Rather, I'm in some state of mourning. It's been an entire year since my life changed completely. 365 days since my world was flipped sideways and counter-rotated. While I do count a number of gains in the past year, I lost most of the things that truly mattered, the things I cherished above all else.
Unfortunately, today also marks a year of having my feelings dismissed, mostly unintentionally. Grief makes people uncomfortable and unwilling to address it. I understand that aspect: it's difficult to console someone, especially if you are unable to relate to what they are going through. I guess the aspect that is a little harder to comprehend is telling someone "Just forget him. You deserve better anyway. You'll be fine."
It's dismissive and presumptuous.
I've discussed this a lot in previous entries, I'm the type who internalizes everything and I know I'm not the only one. That isn't to say that we "internalizers" don't want people asking how we feel or what we think. In my case, I often feel like I'm a nuisance if I merely call someone up just to talk about my emotions. (I'm in therapy now for this, but that's an entirely different story). A year ago, nobody really asked how I was doing, they just dismissed. Assumed I would bounce back and stand up on my own within a few weeks. Assumed that I could forget [intense] feelings I'd had for years. Assumed that by telling me I deserved better that I would simply believe it and move on.
I could have, should have, spoken up and corrected those assumptions, but I didn't so there is fault on myself too. I also think I was so numb to everything around me that I didn't notice all that much that people weren't asking, just telling.
Alas, retrospect is 20/20 after all.
I digress. Back to the main point, I can't sleep because my mind is racing and reminding me of everything that's happened in the last year and a half, and I need to be up for work in less than five hours. It's funny, in a weird way, that I'm more depressed now than I was immediately after the break-up. I think back then I just didn't feel anything, and in fact, I really didn't let myself feel anything. I threw myself into work and literally worked myself to exhaustion. This year, I have way more time on my hands - more time to myself. Unfortunately for me, this means more time to think and settle into these sad feelings. Since I've started therapy, I have gotten better at not thinking myself into bad moods, but there is still the aspect of merely waking up some mornings and feeling depressed for no apparent reason - those phases are the ones I can't pull myself out of by changing my trainof thought.
I'm sure I can pull myself out of this hole ... just not tonight. I think my exhaustion is just hampering my will-power. Not to mention, this date in general is one huge trigger. In a few days, I hope to be fine; I mean, I'd been having one of my good phases for about a week, so hopefully I can pick myself up in the next few days.
As much as I wish circumstances were different, the reality is they're not, so I've no choice but to adapt and try to feel better. To paraphase from a previous entry of mine (see: We Got Knocked Off Course By a Natural Force), I'm still in deep water, but I'm learning to tread it - and I'm also learning how to depend on my friends more to talk about my feelings and burdens.
(I apologize for any typos)
Recommended listening (blog entry title taken from): "Don't Want an Ending" - Sam Tsui
It's no secret (anymore, at least) that I do suffer from a form of depression. There are days where I'm sad for no apparent reason and am completely unable to pull myself from the pit despite all my intentions and attempts to do so. The key component, however, is that whenever I am in one of those depressive phases, it's usually affecting my self-esteem and perspective of self. Today is different.
This week is different.
This state I'm in doesn't have me berating myself or reevaluating my outlook on my prospective future. Rather, I'm in some state of mourning. It's been an entire year since my life changed completely. 365 days since my world was flipped sideways and counter-rotated. While I do count a number of gains in the past year, I lost most of the things that truly mattered, the things I cherished above all else.
Unfortunately, today also marks a year of having my feelings dismissed, mostly unintentionally. Grief makes people uncomfortable and unwilling to address it. I understand that aspect: it's difficult to console someone, especially if you are unable to relate to what they are going through. I guess the aspect that is a little harder to comprehend is telling someone "Just forget him. You deserve better anyway. You'll be fine."
It's dismissive and presumptuous.
I've discussed this a lot in previous entries, I'm the type who internalizes everything and I know I'm not the only one. That isn't to say that we "internalizers" don't want people asking how we feel or what we think. In my case, I often feel like I'm a nuisance if I merely call someone up just to talk about my emotions. (I'm in therapy now for this, but that's an entirely different story). A year ago, nobody really asked how I was doing, they just dismissed. Assumed I would bounce back and stand up on my own within a few weeks. Assumed that I could forget [intense] feelings I'd had for years. Assumed that by telling me I deserved better that I would simply believe it and move on.
I could have, should have, spoken up and corrected those assumptions, but I didn't so there is fault on myself too. I also think I was so numb to everything around me that I didn't notice all that much that people weren't asking, just telling.
Alas, retrospect is 20/20 after all.
I digress. Back to the main point, I can't sleep because my mind is racing and reminding me of everything that's happened in the last year and a half, and I need to be up for work in less than five hours. It's funny, in a weird way, that I'm more depressed now than I was immediately after the break-up. I think back then I just didn't feel anything, and in fact, I really didn't let myself feel anything. I threw myself into work and literally worked myself to exhaustion. This year, I have way more time on my hands - more time to myself. Unfortunately for me, this means more time to think and settle into these sad feelings. Since I've started therapy, I have gotten better at not thinking myself into bad moods, but there is still the aspect of merely waking up some mornings and feeling depressed for no apparent reason - those phases are the ones I can't pull myself out of by changing my trainof thought.
I'm sure I can pull myself out of this hole ... just not tonight. I think my exhaustion is just hampering my will-power. Not to mention, this date in general is one huge trigger. In a few days, I hope to be fine; I mean, I'd been having one of my good phases for about a week, so hopefully I can pick myself up in the next few days.
As much as I wish circumstances were different, the reality is they're not, so I've no choice but to adapt and try to feel better. To paraphase from a previous entry of mine (see: We Got Knocked Off Course By a Natural Force), I'm still in deep water, but I'm learning to tread it - and I'm also learning how to depend on my friends more to talk about my feelings and burdens.
(I apologize for any typos)
Recommended listening (blog entry title taken from): "Don't Want an Ending" - Sam Tsui
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