When battling mental health issues, it’s the little things that drag you back down. Little things like mosquito bites.
It’s 5am. I have sixteen mosquito bites around my ankle on 1 leg. They itch like you would not believe. Some of them are bleeding where I gave up the “don’t scratch them” battle. In the grand scheme of things they aren’t important. There is a lot of good in my life right now, 1 or 2 (or even 16) mosquito bites don’t outweigh that…
…But they do.
See, what I notice about depression, is it looks for reasons to bring you down. It actively seeks them out. Anything is a possible way in. Constant itching and 1 night’s failed sleep is enough to outweigh all the good, no matter how much good there is. Suddenly your whole world is collapsing, life is not worth living and you find yourself curled up on the floor, crying because you can’t cope.
Because that’s what it comes down to: coping. You “normal” folks, you cope with this stuff without even thinking about it. Not me. When life throws me a curve ball I throw my hands up in panic before either running, or crying. Don’t ask me why, I can’t tell you. I just know that ,when something unexpected appears on my horizon, all bets are off and crazy decends.
I often sit and ponder how it would feel to not react like that; to be able to reason my way though it, look at it objectively, to cope. I’ve thought how nice it would be, but I don’t understand it. Much like the blind-man cannot imagine what it is like to see (this hypothetical man was born blind), I cannot imagine what it is like to cope. It is beyond me. Beyond the range of my perception.
So I shall sit here, at 5am, putting ice, lemon, germoline, anti-histamine and hydrocortisone on my bites, crying, and pray that they go away before the darkness gets too firm a hold. And you’re welcome to sit and think I’m over reacting, but I have no other way to react.