Pond

The Shallows of Depression Are Deep

I am down here in the darkest of nowhere.

A place where I can hardly find myself let alone be found by others. I send up a signal flare now and again to remind the world I am alive, but I am not sure this is living. I have read so many descriptions of depression, and when I read them I know exactly how that person is feeling. I think “wow, they nailed it!”

The article I once posted on my old WTJ blog (2014 edit) by Susan about depression nailed it. I knew I was beginning a downward spiral when I read it, and I felt what she was feeling. If you asked me to read it today, I would not even be able to get through the first few sentences. I have no focus. I pulled myself out of bed and into the shower today. That was huge. I am at my desk for the first time in days and I am typing.

Big goings-on for me.

I have to get out of this house on my own. I have to get to the bank and I have to get to the pharmacy. Not another day on the couch. I know what I am doing is just dragging this shit on. It’s as though my brain is a shallow pool. I don’t have access to everything at the moment. I can’t access my abilities so I just lay here, a little kick in the shallows now and again.

I have always felt that my depression was worse than my physical pain. Physical pain seems more manageablRabbit Holee  to me than depression. Depression is like the rabbit hole. I don’t know when this twisting and turning, this breath-sucking falling is going to stop. Physical pain is finite. I know that I have told some of you this many times over. I believe it stands to repetition, even for my own sanity. I need to remind myself that I will not go mad from this, this will pass.

Being bipolar is a chemical imbalance; my chemicals will right themselves again. This will end, and the ‘even’ or the ‘high’ will take its place. The high, that brutal liar, is another story. That is another uncomfortable mess, something I will save for another day. For today, if I can bathe, and eat, and sit upright to get some work done: that is a victory.

Drowning in a PuddleIf I make it to the bank and the pharmacy, double win. For those efforts I will take the trophy. The fact that while I am feeling this way, that I have this singular moment of word generating focus to tell you how I feel is something I wanted to take advantage of. I feel numb, useless, and drowning in a half an inch of water. You could make me laugh, but I cannot cheer myself. I need to be able to find within myself the will to smile and move forward, to know I am back on the right track. I cannot rely on the humor of others to steer me in the right direction. I cannot peg my hopes on the kindness of others. I have to be kind to me. I am going easy on myself. I am not beating myself up too much, not expecting too much from myself, but still expecting something.

The basics.

I couldn’t get in the shower yesterday, but I soaked in the tub. I couldn’t get a meal cooked, but we went out. I was, I believe, a decent bit of company for my husband. I am working on my sleep cycle. I am getting in bed by ten, but if I can’t sleep I am not getting on the Internet, I am doing more productive things. I walk around the house a bit, then try again. I am the ghost haunting my own halls.

I wish I could read right now but I just can’t. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t fake it until I make it, there is no energy for that.

Just keep on keepin’ on.