I haven’t been a depressed person since I decided I didn’t want to be about three years ago. I woke up one day and decided I was ready to emerge from the cocoon of numbness and indifference I had built around my whole life - because, after a while, that’s what depression becomes. You have so many feelings to begin with, your brain just kind of short circuits and you stop feeling everything altogether. It’s a hard place to come back from. I decided that I wasn’t broken, and I could be happy and my life instantly got ten thousand times better just by opening myself up to the possibility that it could.
And now here I am, writing like crazy, with a good job, and a house downtown, and the man of my dreams, and an incredibly bright future and I am still battling depression every day. The depression is always looming like a tall shadow over my shoulder, ready to swallow me when I have a rough day. In my head it looks like a cartoon 1920’s villain.
Wednesday I almost lost it. I didn’t even have a good reason, but I just felt too weak to keep fighting. I’m broke, I shrunk my pants, gross hair, underslept, overworked, stretched too thin. I started to feel that familiar dizzying misery. Work was the last place I wanted to go and though the day had just started I didn’t have any energy left to get me there. I woke up on empty. I cried because I didn’t know what else to do. I wore sunglasses inside because I couldn’t stop (feeling totally batshit insane, might as well look it too). I wanted to rip myself open I was so uncomfortable in my clothes. My office chair was eating me. I don’t remember any of the work I did that day. My mom said she could hear the depression in my voice. The tone was different. Hollow. She told me I should let myself have a totally cuntwhore day (maybe not in those words) and that tomorrow I can start over. Just let the mess out. I did. I left work at 4:30. I went home and skipped dinner and smoked weed about it. I decided to keep crawling.
Yesterday was so weird. I had a coffee when I got home from work and it was like domestic rocket fuel. I made my man a BBQ chicken dinner with rotini in black pepper carbonara sauce and a garden salad. THEN I CLEANED LIKE THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER WAS COMING TO STAY AT MY HOUSE. I’m talking dusting, washing, spraying, bleaching, drenching, scrubbing, you-could-eat-off-the-floor-behind-my-fridge kind of cleaning. I scrubbed the oven so hard it stained my hands. I got massive hives from all the different cleaners. My arms and boobs were on fucking fire. I showered and decided to make peanut butter chocolate ship banana Bread from scratch. Michael fucked the shit out of me for it. I was asleep 3.7 seconds after that.
Today I feel great. I still don’t know what happened to me this week, but perhaps it was a reminder to keep myself armed against… myself? I could think of a few hundred things to be upset about, but the craziest part is that I wasn’t upset about any one of them when the sad came over me. I’m still not, but I wasn’t giving myself the recognition I deserve for doing all of the amazing things I do, no matter how monotonous, and I need to get better at that.
Self-Loathing is the easy way out. Having life fuck you in the ass and trying to enjoy it is soooooooo difficult sometimes. I have stupid amounts of respect for the happy, bubbly people I encounter, because everybody has some shit. But, as with anal, it get’s easier as you go and some people just get used to it faster. Self-appreciation should grow with every challenge you face, not diminish because you face challenge more often.
Thank yourself today. For me.
That is all.
I found a Korean website selling RIDICULOUSLY ADORABLE CLOTHES for 2-8 dollars. Priceless shit you can’t find anywhere else like a sweater that says “Try not to be just a man of success, but rather try to become a man property”. I am screaming. I want it all. Holy shit this is so me.
- I am so fucking sore from Muay Thai last night. It’s the best feeling. When I stretch my muscles shudder and it’s kind of orgasmic.
-I put down a red velvet cupcake after one tiny bite and I imagine that’s what it’s like for a dude to bring a blowjob to a halt 30 seconds before climax.
-Whenever I give somebody a pep talk I am always conflicted thinking “FUCK YEAH, you are awesome at giving advice, you could help so many people!” and “Why the fuck don’t you take your own advice you moron dick head!?”
-When someone I love is upset or hurt my body will try to take on some of their burden. I get the worst sympathy pains/anxiety/headaches. My head is pounding right now.
-I can’t afford groceries. I have been here so many times before. I hate stressing about money. I feel like the worry is poisoning me; making me withered and stale.
-On a lighter note, boobs.
Signed up for a new gym. Brazilian jiu-jitsu tonight and Muay Thai tomorrow. I didn’t tell them I have a Robocop leg. I’m going to see how much I can do before I have to. It can’t be worse for my hip than running on pavement, can it? Fuck it. I’m excited to get some anger out. I need this.