For a few days now I’ve been getting mild headaches. I put them down to stress, weather changes, that time of the month, etc. For some reason it didn’t occur to me that it could be my depression raising its ugly head. Until yesterday afternoon, when my mood shot down and I started feeling low, not depressed, just low.
So I got an early night, I slept for 11 hours, and then I woke up. I woke up and I lay there wondering why I’d woken up, wanting to go back to sleep, feeling emotionally awful. Depressed.
It has hit me again, out of nowhere. The black dog, the dark cloud, whatever you want to call it, it is here again, who knows how long for. Maybe just a day, maybe a month, however long it lasts though, it will feel endless.
I don’t know why it’s crept up on me now, maybe the worry of starting a new agility class, maybe hormones, maybe the reduction in my medication, maybe nothing at all. Because it is worth remembering that clinical depression doesn’t need a trigger, it can just appear, no rhyme or reason, just because that is how it goes.
So here we go again, fighting the tears and the emotions and the exhaustion. Fighting to stay alive.
I’m not suicidal, not right now, but that may well come too, because my depression tends to bring with it those thoughts and feelings, it brings them quickly, as if it thinks that, if it doesn’t bring them with it immediately, I will not suffer enough.
And once again I am clinging to the thought that “This too shall pass.” Because it will. I know it will. But, as I always say, it will also return again. There is no real end to it, the medication gives me longer between crashes, but they still come. And every time it comes I realise that I had forgotten just how hard it is, how awful it is, how depressing it is.
You can’t understand unless you’ve been there. You can try, but you can’t understand the hopelessness, the worthlessness, the complete blackness that descends. It is not natural, or comparable to anything that ‘normal’ people experience. It is its own level of hell and I hope that none of you ever get to experience it, though I know that some of you do.
I want to apologise in advance for what will no doubt be a string of miserable blog posts, but I wont, because it’s not my fault. It is an illness, like any other, and I will not apologise for that.