Thoughts, Nonsense, Neurosis, Boom
Sunday, July 06, 2014
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Saturday, June 21, 2014
I overreact whenever my body does something unexpected. The older I get, the more surprise aches and pains I get. I google symptoms and find the worst possible scenario, then I start picturing my funeral. Never once do I entertain the idea of seeing a doctor. I'm hopeless.
Friday, June 20, 2014
Friday, May 23, 2014
Pffft. I actually made that noise. With my mouth. So yeah, that was sincere.
This is the second or third time now I've slept through thrash morning. I heard the truck coming as I was waking up, groaned and fell back into bed (notices the amazing typo I just made and leaves it -- but I would totally wake the fuck up for THRASH MORNING). *ahem* Trash morning. I find myself ridiculously amusing sometimes. Anyhow, now I feel guilty. The garbage is piling up by the side of the house. I said I'd do it. But instead, I had blissful dreams about Christmas and doorways. Was re-entering the dream after the kids left for school worth missing the trash truck? Yeah, I'd say so.
I'm in an okay mood, aside from the garbage mishap. I hopped up on the scale upon waking to find I have now officially lost *drum roll please* 35 lbs. I like this. I have more to lose, but damn, that's a nice number. So how am I celebrating? By...not...exercising. That's probably a bad idea, but I slept late and I work soon, so I am going to spend the afternoon drinking coffee and daydreaming.
I miss a lot of things this morning (well, this afternoon...I slept through "morning"). I miss the way my brain would conjure great things and fixate intently on them. Unfortunately, this would also trigger the bad feelings, so it's odd to miss that. But today I am feeling good. Not particularly deep, but peaceful. Why can't I have the deep emotions and the peaceful feelings at the same time? I think whenever I let myself feel something too deeply, it hurts a little. And sometimes I want it to hurt a little. But right now, I'm okay just whistling and enjoying my coffee, so fuggit.
And Boom. Just because.
Thursday, May 08, 2014
Those who haven't experienced it sometimes want to listen. Mostly not. Most pretend to be interested, ask if I'm really okay or what's bothering me, but then get uncomfortable and tune out when I start to describe my Blah. And when they do listen, they sometimes want to "fix" me. Get more exercise. Read a book. Go out in nature. Spend time with your family. Just get out of the house more. *sigh* I know they mean well, and those are all great things to do. But none of that will cure me. I'm not a sulking teenager. I don't just snap out of it. When I am down and go for a walk, I am still down when I come home. The chirping birds mock me.
Then there are those who have experienced depression and anxiety. To varying degrees, from seasonal to chronic to debilitating. I feel for them all, yet again, I don't share my feelings with a lot of them. There are those who seem to want to turn it into a Who's More Depressed contest. I'm not trying to win anything, I just thought, I don't know, maybe a little empathy? I'm not looking for pity, goddammit, and I'm certainly not about to give any out. People want to be listened to and understood, not outdone.
This. This is why I just write it here. Hardly anyone comments. Just reads, or clicks away. But if someone reads this horribly depressing blog and relates...*hug*
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Oh, I give up. Fuck. I have no words. Not really. I'll try to describe this but I don't know why I'm bothering. Maybe I'm keeping track of my thoughts so I can tell the doctor. But the doctor won't want to hear all this, they'll just ask me questions and give me a fucking prescription. I'll just write this for me, then.
I feel an almost-nothing. I don't like to feel emotionless, but a full-on nothing would be better than what I've got now. It's a numb lined with frustration tinged with sadness and pent up rage. And a hopelessness. I'm a dumb pathetic creature sometimes and I hate it. I want to rip things apart. I want to sleep. I want to get in my car and drive. Throw away my cell phone and computer. Cut off contact with the world. Live in a cave. I'm not doing any of those things, though. Instead, I'm curled up in bed feeling miserable and blogging from my phone. The end.
Monday, January 06, 2014
Like I said yesterday, I woke up with a feeling of dread. It never went away. I carried it with me all day yesterday, waiting for the worst. I took it to bed with me and let it invade my dreams (I had a very hazy dream about working for a hotel/bookstore and my employer hating all my ideas, and a girl asked me to come to WA with her for New Years). I felt this tense waiting when I woke up and got the kids off to school. Went back to bed and the wind made it sound as if the house is about to cave in, which is fitting, as it feels like the world is about to cave in.
So tired. I feel like I'm on another planet. There's a slight shift in everything, enough that the world seems foreign now. Things are not quite right. Everything is awkward and strange and wrong. It's like I'm Sam from Quantum Leap. I've jumped into this body, into this life and I'm only pretending to know what I'm doing or why I'm here. Hoping next time...will be the leap home. Pshhhh, whatever that means, I just really like Quantum Leap. ;)
I felt so great yesterday, but I stupidly drank a pot and a half of coffee in the afternoon and evening. So subsequently, I barely slept. I had a dread feeling before going to sleep and then the same after waking up. No dreams. None that I can remember. Damn. Hoping for some good ones tonight. I'm watching Delicatessen, and it's shaping up to be a very strange and (hopefully) wild dream-inducing movie.
Saturday, January 04, 2014
I'm so excited about this idea, I don't care how silly it sounds. I have a strange preoccupation with dreams. I don't care if they're the feel-good sort or nightmares (I have and recall plenty of both, normally a few per night), I love them all. It seems like the more vivid my dreams are, the better and more creative I feel the day(s) after. It's like it all comes in waves or cycles. But anyways, I've always had that wish that I could record my dreams and replay them for myself and other people after I wake up. The closest way to do this (that is reasonably within my power to do) is to write it out, either in story form or poetry or both, and illustrate it with the same emotion from my dreams. I know I can do this.
Wow, I have more energy than I can believe today. I get these days where I wake up and I just feel super creative and happy, like I can do anything. I look back over my old posts and can't understand how I ever felt so down. I know it's going to happen again, but I'm going to take advantage of this good day and write as much non-whiny bullshit as possible. :)
Monday, December 23, 2013
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
"Give me one more medicated peaceful moment...I don't want to feel this overwhelming hostility..."
Today was almost beautiful. I woke up during an amazing dream, the kind that leaves you feeling just nice all morning and, if you're lucky, that feeling bleeds into the afternoon and evening. I had a quiet empty house and so I read. I felt optimistic. Or, what's the word... transcendent? I don't know if that's quite right. To put it plainly, I felt GOOD.
I've been eating better (and less, as my appetite has been mostly gone for the past month or so), and when I weighed myself I was down five pounds. This meant something great to me. I was uplifted. I was happy with me.
I don't want this to be my Depression Blog. Really, I want to be interesting and fun like I seem to remember being. But this doesn't feel like me anymore. This goodness is always short lived lately, as it was today. It's like a switch in my brain that flips. Eventually I pass my image in the mirror and see someone else. Someone not as good. I don't live up to my own standards. I'm not talking about my outward appearance. I accept that I'm not physically perfect, no one is. That's nothing to me. I can see the change in my eyes, in the way I look back at myself. I lose my shine.
I'm angry with myself. I don't want to talk with anyone about this, I just want someone to understand, to just know. Stop so much with the well meaning advice. I'm angry that everyone else is living their meaningful lives and I can't find the meaning in mine anymore. The uglier and stupider I feel, the more brilliant and beautiful everyone else seems. The gap between myself and the rest of the world keeps widening and there's nothing I can do.
That's all. My highs are more exhilarating and my lows are ever deepening. I'm going to write something of meaning here soon. I swear. Until then...I'm so sorry.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
I don't know if these problems I have with depression would have overtaken me no matter what, or if they appeared due to life changes (divorce, having kids, moving away from every friend I had, moving again, and again, and again). But I want to think about something other than the workings of my brain. I am going to see a doctor sometime after Christmas and hopefully I can be properly medicated. I want to move on from this shit, I'm tired of it. I want to live, have adventures, be me again. I don't want to be forced to take on a role that I hate, or allow others to make me into someone that I don't want to be. Fuck it. I will do what I want.
First thing: make more time to be alone, while losing all this fucking weight. I will start jogging or some shit, I don't know. I will be Me Independent. In touch with my own mind while not being distracted by others. I don't need anyone else around for me to feel like me. I need the opposite. I need freedom and to do things for myself without feeling guilty. The freedom of not having to stick around listening to people being miserable assholes. To not allow myself to feel guilty for my feelings. I can't let that shit get to me, I have my own whatnot to work on.
I think I may have just made a New Year's resolution. Only I can't call it that, or I will fuck it up immediately.
Monday, December 09, 2013
This shit. Ugh. I'm sick of this coldness. Indoors is no better than the icy drizzle outside. I can't write the things I want to. I can't feel the things I want to. I get moments of unbearably intense emotion, love, sadness, anger, whatever. But that never lasts long. My days are peppered with these short bursts of emotion (if I'm lucky) and the rest is just blank irritation. At work today, it was mostly an almost pleasant indifference. Once I'm home, it quickly turns to an anxious boredom. I need something I don't have. Usually I interpret that as hunger and eat. This explains my weight. I'm doomed.