For the past few days I’ve noticed some symptoms of my depression creeping in to my life again; I have had to fight to get out of bed, I haven’t wanted to shower, I haven’t wanted to walk the dogs, and I haven’t cared about what I’m eating, leading to me stuffing my face with a lot of ‘bad’ food.
Last night I got an early night, about 9pm, feeling low and just not wanting to be awake. I hoped that a good sleep would help and that I’d wake up feeling brighter, better, happier.
Today my alarm went off, as usual, at 7:30am, I finally dragged myself out of bed at gone 9:30am. I forced myself to pull my Tarot daily draw, but didn’t journal about it. I got dressed, had breakfast, and now I just want to spend the whole day crying, wallowing.
I feel tired, emotional, like I’m starting to fall apart again, and I don’t know how to make it better.
That’s the thing with depression; the overwhelming “can’t be bothered” feeling, the lack of drive, the lack of belief that anything can help. Why try? Why go for a walk and see if that helps? I’m so tired, my eyes are constantly heavy, I don’t want to walk, I don’t want to be seen, I don’t want to feel the sun on my skin and feel nothing, no joy. I am tired.
Where’s it come from? What’s triggered it? Who knows. Maybe something, maybe nothing.
I was doing so well. I’m fighting my anxiety, I’m in therapy, I’m doing my ‘homework’ from therapy, I’m taking my medication religiously, I’m trying. I’m putting yet more things in place to help me deal with these feelings, and yet still, here I am, drowning again in the darkness.
There are things to do, but I just want to hide away and cry.
Then the realisation kicks in again; this could be my life, forever. This could be it. Out of nowhere, the black dog appears, the black cloud envelops and all colour is lost from my world. It makes me question, are the good times worth this? Will I, can I, get better? Or am I in for a lifetime of fighting?
My therapist thinks I can recover. She believes in me. She wants me to see my future without the darkness of depression, but it’s so hard. I have lived this for so long already, I don’t remember how it is to be free of these feelings, or this lack of feeling, so how can I imagine a future free of it?
My therapist talked about a ‘box of potential,’ my box of potential. “What could be in there?” she asked. I didn’t know. Maybe now is the time to think on that, to write down things that might be in that box, things I want to be there, things I know are in there but maybe hidden deep down at the moment. Maybe that will help me now, imagining what my future could hold, imagining who I could be, who I am, who I have the potential to become.