The Truth

As far as I can tell, I've pretty much completely kept any mention of my current mental state off Facebook altogether (this is expanding upon a status I wrote about punching people who demand positive statuses in the face) - I don't figure anyone cares overmuch about how I am feeling, so I don't see the point in writing about how I am, once again, so depressed I can barely go to class let alone take care of myself or my home or give my boyfriend the love he deserves. Especially since I feel this way every day, and writing about it on Facebook is going to get redundant and boring very fast (especially if I mentioned it as often as I feel this way), and also will serve to prove that no one cares if I am depressed or not. Anytime I have posted a status in the last three years that wasn’t full of happy and awesome, no one said anything to me about it, online or in real life. Even when that status was obviously a plea for someone to help me, no one said anything.

Basically, I don’t see the fucking point in telling people that I am depressed. I might whine about how I am not having a good day, but I don’t need to detail how depression is not feeling sad so much as it is the inability to give a shit. I want to clean the kitchen right now, but I look at the kitchen and I just feel so tired, and then I feel guilty because I’m a horrible person. I know exactly how Allie Brosh feels when she says she’s hit by a “wave of apathy” and unable to continue. 

I have good days and bad days.  I have days where I don't feel like I am depressed at all.  I also have days where I struggle to get out of bed, struggle to have conversations with people, and struggle to behave normally because I want so desperately for Matt to be happy.  I wish I could explain it as elegantly as Allie does, but my ability to write is broken due to my inability to think about anything.

Depression isn't something where you just feel sad.  It's this white expanse of nothing, and the only emotions you can really feel are despair and apathy.  Or in my case, melancholy, apathy, and rage.  Those are my three primary modes right now.  I do a good perky, though, so it appears like I'm happy a lot more often than I am (though science makes me feel genuinely happy - the feeling just doesn't stay very long, so going to class is kind of like getting high), so I'm sure people who don't know me well can't tell the difference between me being a happy person and me acting the part of a happy person.  It's so much easier to go through life without eliciting the concern of others.  I don't want to be a bother and I don't want to make people fear for me, because knowing I've caused someone else that kind of discomfort just kills me.

That worry about being an inconvenience to someone else is probably why I haven't sought help yet, aside from the issues from when I was a teenager (my mother used to abuse the mental health system to get a break from me - she'd have me locked up in a mental hospital for as long as the insurance would cover me, and they'd medicate me to the hilt and turn me into a zombie when if anyone had looked properly, they could have seen the cause of most of my mental health issues, but I'm not bitter or anything).  I am afraid of losing control of the situation and being forced to stay in a mental hospital and being forced to take medication I don't want, and I'm afraid of bothering other people because it's so ingrained in me that I am here to serve others.

I am so messed up.

I probably should get over worrying about bothering others soon, because I'm pretty sure I'm getting past the point where I can manage on my own.  I'm afraid of what I might do to myself if I continue on, and I don't want to hurt Matt.  I want to be with Matt until I'm really, really old and dead.  I don't want to hit that edge and be unable to do anything to stop myself.  I don't really want counseling, but I also am repulsed by the concept of being medicated - I remember how I felt when I was heavily medicated as a teenager, and I really don't want to feel that way again.  Plus, the meds made me fat, and I never lost any of that weight.

This sounds terrible, but right now I am living for Matt because I can't live for me, and that's all that is keeping me going today - the desire to see him and to make him smile.  This morning, when we were talking about this situation a little bit, he told me that I am the biggest and most important thing in his life right now.  I don't think anyone has ever loved me as much as he does, and I am unable to put into words how that makes me feel.  It frightens me, because I don't want to be handed that kind of power.  I don't know what to do with it, and I love him so much more than I can put into words, but I've never been loved the way he loves me and I feel like it's not meant for me.  He deserves so much better than me.  He deserves to be with someone who is not broken.

If I can just find the motivation to get the laundry put away, that will be something.  I managed to separate it earlier, so that's pretty good.  If I can get half of it put away before Matt gets home, that would be good.  I'm hoping that once I get momentum, I can get it all put away at once.  

Existing is exhausting.