The depression series…
PHASE 1; SELF-DIAGNOSIS
It’s not easy to admit you have a mood disorder
I sleep longer than is normal since I returned from school. I thought it was due to the stress from my exams, which was hell. There is no describing how tasking it was mentally, and it takes about two days of sleeping in to get over the sleep deprivation and stress, alongside some meds.
Well, it’s been a week, I am still sleeping in, still sleeping past breakfast, and I love breakfast. I still sleep till I get a throbbing headache, and then I sleep some more. I sleep till I get too weak to get up and then, when I do get up, eventually, I mope around. I sluggishly check my phone. There is a flurry of activity. The world kept spinning while I was sleeping.
“I could literally just disappear and no one would notice”
I feel sorry for myself, but, it’s my fault, isn’t it? I am not interested in any form of social activity; People are so blissfully ignorant. Yapping away about celebrities and random shit I do not care about. I do not know how to keep up with everyone else.
The days go by slowly; I count my sighs every day. 70 was the magic number yesterday.
Each sigh is deep, long, and miserable.
“I need to pee, sigh.
“I should probably have breakfast now, it’s almost noon,” sigh.
“I can’t even cover myself up and play dead because of this fucking heat,” sigh.
“He hasn’t responded to my text,” sigh.
“I wonder if I’ll get an A in that course, I did quite poorly”. Sigh, again.
I hate clutter, littering, unmade beds, and unfolded clothes but there is a lot of that happening in my room lately, it’s not the lack of physical strength or laziness. It is my mental state. I am so unmotivated.
I snap often. I don’t want to, it’s just… I’m so bothered by my own inadequacies and people keep breathing down my neck with their demands. It gets so overwhelming, so I lash out. Picking fights with my family.
“What do you want?”
“I’m busy, I can’t make it,”
“I have no explanation.”
Nobody outside of these drab four walls notices my inner turmoil. I cannot explain why I have over 70 unread messages and no one to talk to. No meaningful conversations.
I lay in bed, analyzing everything I have ever done. Noting the people I am actively avoiding because coming in contact with them reminds me of things I have done or said that I would rather forget.
Praying is stressful. While I am a religious person, I have never thought of myself as spiritual. Everything I do is done almost robotically and trying to break out of that, and failing is deeply frustrating. I don’t think he wants me to feel that way. We are working on our relationship I guess.
There really is nothing wrong with me on the surface level. Even when someone seems to sense that something is going on, I shut it down. It’s like I don’t want anyone knowing what’s going on in my head while praying for someone to save me. Quite unrealistic I suppose.
Who is saving me? I am not the type you’d expect to be silently suffering. An oversharer if you may, is what I am on a good day. Quiet, but gives off noisemaking tendencies. I make everyone around me laugh; I don’t think they fake their laughter. I love meaningful conversations, I find myself giving out advice. So, technically, unless they were probing deeply into my behaviour there’s really nothing wrong with me.
I do experience the fleeting feeling of euphoria once in a while though. A kind gesture I wasn’t expecting, a smile in my direction from a boy I like, a great score on a test, it fades all too soon and leaves the persistent depressing thought that it’s over.
Before this, before the writing, I spoke to someone. I was told to snap out of it. I snapped my fingers. Once, twice, three times… It didn’t work. I blocked her.
I know I am depressed; I have looked up all there is to know about it, it all checks out.
What is left to experience?
Anxiety attacks? I get those.
Fear of not being good enough? All the time.
Suicidal thoughts? No, I am not suicidal. I do not want to be here though.
People love to say we are just sad, posting up memes about how depressed people are “just sad” and that “Depression is a real issue, do not trivialize it by claiming “I am depressed”. Make any sense? Yeah, I didn’t think so too.
I don’t think I can forget seeing that meme; it is burned into my brain alongside my friend who posted it. But, then again, if I were to agree that I am “just sad” what is there to be sad about? I do not have an answer. That’s what depression is, the unbearable feeling of hopelessness, feeling desperately alone when in reality, on a surface level, from an outsider's perspective, your life is going just great.
I wonder how a clinical diagnosis would read
“Patient is a woman? PMS likely cause, ask her about her menstrual cycle.
The patient is a teenager? She’s lovesick, probably has a crush on a boy that doesn’t feel the same way.
What are the patient’s living conditions? Single parent, the cause could be a dysfunctional home.
What is the Patient’s drug history? The patient did not respond to the question. Substance abuse is likely.
“What is the cause?”