Depression is such a dick. It gets in and messes with your head in ways that make you feel completely broken. It lies. It manipulates emotion and it ruins moments.
I feel like everything I do is wrong.
"You just need to build your confidence."
I honestly can't count how many times that has been the response when I've confessed I'm struggling. And it's not easy to admit in the first place. I'm a pretty open person but telling my boss or close coworkers that I'm feeling like a piece of shit isn't really an easy conversation topic to share.
I don't know why I do it really. I guess as a sort of warning for them? When I feel the depression start to bubble up and I can feel that I'm not quite myself, I feel like those around me deserve an explanation. That way if I burst into tears because someone's asked me to rewrite something maybe it won't be such a shock. Or maybe it will, I don't know. Inside I feel like a fucking wreck but I've gotten really good at putting on the 'everything is fine' face over the years so who knows if anyone even notices.
I feel like everyone is annoyed with me.
"You just need to learn how to love yourself."
Depression doesn't let you do that. It isolates you. It creates a circle within that even when you're surrounded by others makes you feel completely alone. Depression tells you that you are worthless, in the way, and a giant pain in the ass to everyone in your life. Sometimes it goes beyond that and makes you think strangers are silently judging you or your clothes, your hair, the way you walk or the way your mouth moves when you're trying desperately to smile through the pain.
My workplace is where I tend to struggle the most. I want so desperately to do well and there are still past experiences that I'm working through that make me feel I never will. That whole lack of confidence thing is pretty strong too and jesus, if I could just 'build my confidence' as simply as saying it was so, I would. But it takes time and I try to allow myself that. Doesn't always work. In fact, I'm rarely able to be gentle or kind wo myself when it comes to that. I don't want to go through this--I just want it to stop.
At home I can cry or numb my mind to try and find peace. I can communicate with The Fella honestly and tell him what I need or don't need to feel even just a tiny bit better. Any other time that's a successful solution. Communication is what I do. It's a huge part of who I am and it's when talking about how I feel seems to fail that I feel this way.
Frustrated. Defeated. Angry. Sad. Pointless. The feeling that you don't matter is such an ugly emotion. And somewhere deep inside, I know it's untrue. But the voice of depression is so fucking loud. It literally feels like my mind is screaming.
I wish I was on the upside of this, on the way to coming out of it but I'm just not. I have no confidence. I don't hate myself, but I'm not particularly stoked about who I am right now because it's fucking miserable.
Helplessness is another feeling that depression brings. Because really, there's nothing I can do.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Monday, December 11, 2017
Day by Day
Sometimes, the way I feel changes so quickly that I don't realize it's happened.
I have days when I feel so confident and sure about myself. I feel like my hair is pretty or my shirt fits just right or my words are coming out witty, friendly and thoughtfully. I feel like I'm helping people at work or that I've really made progress on a project. I smile a lot on those days. I sing along to the radio and tap the steering wheel as I drive to and from wherever it is I'm going. I feel loved, liked, needed and appreciated. Those are good days.
I have days when I feel so insecure and unsure about myself. I feel like my hair is greasy or my shirt is emphasizing my fat rolls or my words are stumbling around inside my mouth, unable to escape in articulate sentences. I feel like I'm in the way of other people or that I've failed on a project. My brow is furrowed a lot on those days. I drive in silence to and from wherever it is I'm going. I feel invisible, a nuisance, in the way and pointless. Those are not good days.
I forget I have depression sometimes. I'll be going along with my life things-- work, home, friends, etc. and then it covers me like a wool blanket. I wrack my brain trying to figure out why, making myself. I usually get mad at first. Mad at having depression. Mad at the fact that I somehow forget every time. Mad at that feeling of being covered in not good days.
The voice of self doubt starts screaming so loudly that it becomes all I hear. I try to reason with it, tell it (myself) that everything is ok. I'm not worthless, or stupid, or a failure. I'm going to be ok, I say. I seek friends that will say it too. But I'm covered completely now in the depression and the only thing that really works for me is time. Restlessness stirs with the self doubt--Why does it always seem to take so long to wade through this?
I feel paranoid, like nothing I am doing is right. I'm hypersensitive and jumpy. I can't focus on anything to stay busy or distracted from myself and I obsess on the smallest infractions. The worst part is that while my brain is spinning, there is a small section that stays still and clear, knowing all of these feelings are irrational and I can't stop them.
I never know how long it will take but eventually I remember that this is just the way my brain works sometimes. Usually that helps me come out from underneath the wool blanket. On days I'm tired of fighting it, I bury farther into it, reluctant now to let it go because it's familiar. Because it's hard to be strong. Those are bad days that easily seep into weeks.
Slowly, acceptance of my dis-ease comes. The voice of clarity shouts over the doubt and I can throw the blanket to the side like a matador's cape. On that day I will play steering wheel music and problem solve like a boss. I will notice how long my hair is and that my shirt is comfortable against my skin. I'll smile a lot and feel accomplished, proud at the efforts I make. The good days will return.
I have days when I feel so confident and sure about myself. I feel like my hair is pretty or my shirt fits just right or my words are coming out witty, friendly and thoughtfully. I feel like I'm helping people at work or that I've really made progress on a project. I smile a lot on those days. I sing along to the radio and tap the steering wheel as I drive to and from wherever it is I'm going. I feel loved, liked, needed and appreciated. Those are good days.
I have days when I feel so insecure and unsure about myself. I feel like my hair is greasy or my shirt is emphasizing my fat rolls or my words are stumbling around inside my mouth, unable to escape in articulate sentences. I feel like I'm in the way of other people or that I've failed on a project. My brow is furrowed a lot on those days. I drive in silence to and from wherever it is I'm going. I feel invisible, a nuisance, in the way and pointless. Those are not good days.
I forget I have depression sometimes. I'll be going along with my life things-- work, home, friends, etc. and then it covers me like a wool blanket. I wrack my brain trying to figure out why, making myself. I usually get mad at first. Mad at having depression. Mad at the fact that I somehow forget every time. Mad at that feeling of being covered in not good days.
The voice of self doubt starts screaming so loudly that it becomes all I hear. I try to reason with it, tell it (myself) that everything is ok. I'm not worthless, or stupid, or a failure. I'm going to be ok, I say. I seek friends that will say it too. But I'm covered completely now in the depression and the only thing that really works for me is time. Restlessness stirs with the self doubt--Why does it always seem to take so long to wade through this?
I feel paranoid, like nothing I am doing is right. I'm hypersensitive and jumpy. I can't focus on anything to stay busy or distracted from myself and I obsess on the smallest infractions. The worst part is that while my brain is spinning, there is a small section that stays still and clear, knowing all of these feelings are irrational and I can't stop them.
I never know how long it will take but eventually I remember that this is just the way my brain works sometimes. Usually that helps me come out from underneath the wool blanket. On days I'm tired of fighting it, I bury farther into it, reluctant now to let it go because it's familiar. Because it's hard to be strong. Those are bad days that easily seep into weeks.
Slowly, acceptance of my dis-ease comes. The voice of clarity shouts over the doubt and I can throw the blanket to the side like a matador's cape. On that day I will play steering wheel music and problem solve like a boss. I will notice how long my hair is and that my shirt is comfortable against my skin. I'll smile a lot and feel accomplished, proud at the efforts I make. The good days will return.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)