It's hard.
I haven't been posting, because I haven't been positive or happy. It's par for the course currently... I have a few good days, and the rest... Just sort of blend together and meld, and I don't know how time flies past so damn quickly. But everything mushes together, and days become weeks I've missed. Months I've missed.
I haven't been posting, because I haven't been positive or happy. It's par for the course currently... I have a few good days, and the rest... Just sort of blend together and meld, and I don't know how time flies past so damn quickly. But everything mushes together, and days become weeks I've missed. Months I've missed.
It's depressing to think I've spent the past 14 months in this leather recliner. It's depressing to think about the amount of money spent on medications which take the edge off my pain most days, but never really makes it go away. It's depressing knowing I have to depend and rely on others for my survival. It's depressing to not have control of my body the way I want to. I'm not going to lie. Depression is a hard burden to carry. It's heavy, it's lingering, it's there. Looming like a shadow, the proverbial gray rain cloud that's been following me. And it sucks. I think of it very much like one of those Dementor things in Harry Potter- depression sucks the life, the happiness, the joy, the interest out of everything. It's a black hole that sucks everything into it, stretching out its tendrils to reach every possible corner of your mind in an attempt to overtake it and control it with insidious wickedness and thoughts that aren't mine. Not really, but somehow end up in my mind. Things I wouldn't otherwise think of- never giving it a second to enter my mind. But there it sits, it simmers, and I refuse to look it in the face. I don't want that ugliness, that desperation to ever surface. Let me make this clear- I'm not suicidal. I can't say I haven't had thoughts though. Nothing serious, nothing I'd follow through with or even attempt to act out... I'd hurt too many people if I left. Besides, with all the courage I hold- suicide is not an option I'd ever entertain seriously. Ever.
I've been fighting it. One hell of a fight indeed. I know and am aware I don't have the motivation to be up and about like I used to. Not being able to work has been a big hit to my ego, not to mention the social interactions I miss because of it. Good, bad, awful, indifferent- I don't care. One one hand, I miss interacting with people. Yet at the same time- I absolutely despise it. Most days I don't want to put my face on, I don't want to force the smile, pretend I'm alright. I'm not. People piss me off these days. I have absolutely no patience for the rude asshats I see out and about, and if someone acts like a moron I have no qualms about saying such. Most are shocked when I comment, and have no reaction because nobody dares say anything to anyone these days. I walk away while they look like dumb animals with mouths wide open ready to catch flies. I like the shock value. That almost makes it worth going out and trying to hide how disgusted with myself I am. I try to disguise it with my online alter-ego. It's easy to see days I'm not putting much effort into being happy.
It shows in the lack of blog posts. The lack of status updates. The lack of communicating with friends. The lack of me not picking up my phone when calls come in, not answering texts, not responding. I don't throw the towel in on days like that- I just procrastinate procrastinating. It can all be done later. It can wait. It doesn't have to be done right now. Why bother? What's the difference? Nobody cares. Those are my thoughts.