sherlocktoldmeto - Tumblr blog

[sherlocktoldmeto]

Depression is...

I don’t even know where to begin. It’s been a little over 2 years since my last post. My world has changed completely, and yet not at all. I got a job and have actually gotten a couple of promotions and raises. On the other hand, my home life has sunk into a pit of filth. I don’t mean moral filth or anything quite so esoteric. I mean that all of my energy goes into my job. When I’m not at work, I’m at home, preferably sleeping. I don’t clean anymore. I don’t cook. Because of repair problems that I can’t solve, I don’t even shower. Sometimes I get up the energy to wash my hair in the kitchen sink. If I eat, it’s something either from the microwave or a drive-thru. That usually happens only once a day. I exist only in the most basic ways.

When I go to work, I smile, I chat, my hair and makeup and clothes are always as perfect as I can get them. I work hard at my job. I take pride in my job. As truly shitty as it can be at times, I love my job. No one who knows me from there would even recognize this person that walks in the door at home. I keep my mask firmly in place. It is my armor.

When most people think of depression or hear someone is depressed, they automatically think, “she’s crying all the time” or “she’s just really sad about something.” That is a part of depression, but it isn’t the biggest part. The part I struggle with every hour of every day is the indifference. The lack of motivation. I look around my room now, and I wish it were cleaner. I wish it didn’t have piles of trash everywhere. I wish there were no flies feasting on dirty dishes and empty food wrappers. I wish it didn’t smell of rot and decay. But as hard as I wish, it doesn’t change. 

Then comes the next wave. The drowning sensation of being overwhelmed. Sure, I could pick some of this up, get it cleaned up and out of here. As soon as I think I may have made a difference, I look a little to the side and realize it’s just too much. Then, as quick as that, I am defeated.

I’ve had well-meaning family members try to help. I did the one thing I have always been terrified of and I embarrassed my daughter. She brought someone who means a lot to her to meet me and I am so ashamed they saw my inner world. She says she wasn’t embarrassed but my own shitty brain won’t let me believe her.

Meds aren’t exactly the answer. I”ve been on the same ones for 2 years and they have helped with stabilizing my moods. There haven’t been any more 3 days crying jags. My anxiety is at a manageable state now. But I feel hollow. I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t here. It isn’t in me.

[sherlocktoldmeto]

I haven't posted anything in a few days so maybe I should. I've had a super busy couple of weeks that included a long road trip, heartbreak, absolute joy, and the appointment that finally got me back on meds for the first time in about ten years. The road trip and heartbreak and joy are all wound up in one big knot and I'm still pretty raw from that so I'll talk about it later. I guess that leaves the meds. The Dr has me on an antidepressant/antianxiety pill, a second antianxiety pill and a sleeping pill. I'm still adjusting to them so for 3 days now I've been wobbling around loopy as hell. The last 2 have included severe headaches leaving me feeling like a wrung out dishrag. I don't know if it's a side effect or just exhaustion and allergies but it isn't fun. For now it's time to settle in for the night and try to rest.

[sherlocktoldmeto]

Same.

[sherlocktoldmeto]

Why I'm not suicidal

Most people who battle depression as much as I do are also suicidal. I won't lie and say I don't think about it, that I've never considered it because I have. I have to the point that I know how I would do it. Years ago my grandfather committed suicide. He was where he knew his daughter would find him and that's something that I still haven't forgiven. It's been more than a decade and the pain, betrayal, anger, confusion.... None of that has left me. Knowing how I feel about him, it makes me think of my kids. They aren't children anymore, they're 21, 18, and 15 right now but any mother will tell you her kids will be her babies until death do them part, so to speak. Just the idea of them feeling even a fraction of what I still feel about him stops me every time. I know you're probably thinking if I have kids why don't they make me happy? They do. Just not enough to drown out the demons swirling in my brain. It doesn't help that we live about 600 miles apart. When I divorced their father, he ended up with custody because I couldn't afford a lawyer to fight for them. He has raised them in such a way that I honestly feel if they didn't have me to counter some of his beliefs, they would be so much worse. At the moment I feel needed. I feel necessary. What terrifies me the most is what happens when the day comes that I don't feel that way anymore? Will I lose that final battle? Will I give up and end it all?

[sherlocktoldmeto]

It's funny how one little comment can grant me such relief. Today a tiny bit of stress has been taken away and suddenly the weight on my shoulders, on my head, has evaporated. It is by no means completely gone but it almost feels maybe-manageable.

[sherlocktoldmeto]

[sherlocktoldmeto]

[sherlocktoldmeto]

[sherlocktoldmeto]

Why do I hate myself? Because of who I am. Because of what I’ve done, To myself. Because of those nights, I lie awake, thinking, About everything that’s wrong, And everything I’ve done wrong. Because of the lies I tell, Every time someone asks me How I am. Because of the money, My parents have wasted on me. Because of the people I know, Who find me annoying, Or boring, Or weird, Or quiet, or sad. Because I’m destroying myself, Whilst others would do anything For the life I have. Because I’m not happy, When nothing is wrong. Because I am me. I am a mess. I am worthless. And I hate that.

broken poetry (via br-o-ken-poetry)

[sherlocktoldmeto]

[sherlocktoldmeto]

[sherlocktoldmeto]

I am painfully aware that I am no one’s favorite person

[sherlocktoldmeto]

[sherlocktoldmeto]

twenty one pilots - Heathens

[sherlocktoldmeto]

I’m sorry

[sherlocktoldmeto]

me: *about to send someone a message*

myself: hey

me: ? hey what's

myself: if they wanted to have any kind of contact w/ you they would have initiated it.

me: alright, neat, neat concept, but communication is actually a two-way street so

myself: they have no desire to speak to you and never have any desire to speak to you, ever. they never think of you. they will never think of you, at all, ever, even in passing. you are nothing.

me, tossing my phone out the window: alright! neat! awesome! fantastic!

[sherlocktoldmeto]

Reblog this if you will answer anything that comes to your ask right now.