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Archive for June, 2014

Big Depression

Warning: Entry is a Little Depressing

It is.  I’m sorry.  But as I was going through this particular bout I noticed something.  I felt better when I heard someone else describing their great sorrow, a song or someone talking on the radio.  The words just sort of washed over me and I was like yeah, that is how it feels and believe it or not, I felt better.  Not so much because someone else was commiserating with me but because someone else had put to words the very thing I was feeling and that took my depression from my head and into the real world where I could fight it.  So if you’re not depressed, or if you are on the edge and might become depressed then by all means don’t read this, but if you need to have your feelings put into words, if you need your depression made real for all the world to see, then here it is;

I feel my head swimming, confused, unable to focus on anything for long, unable to bring a coherent thought to the front of my mind and form it into speech.  My limbs feel as if they weigh a hundred pounds, each.  My heart beats sluggishly as if it is pushing wet cement through my veins instead of blood.  Any moment now my heart will harden and my chest will fall to the floor forever leaving me unable to feel anything. ever. again.

I’m pushing my way through depression, again.  I just can’t stop my mind from focusing on the fact that I subbed for four weeks, did a damn good job and didn’t get the position and now I have to get myself up tomorrow and go back into that school, walk through those doors and pretend it is not tearing my soul to shreds.  I could easily rant through the reasons and arguments but it’ll do no good toward easing my sorrow, so why bother bringing that negativity into my being.

I tried to feel the pain and disappointment.  I tried to let myself work it through.  I let myself be sad.  I let myself cry but some time last night the depression hit me hard and fast and I fell under like a drug going straight into the vein, bringing torment and pain as it burned through my bloodstream.

Disappointments happen.  I get that.  The problem is the average person does not get assaulted with mind numbing, soul sucking depression when the disappointments happen; I do.  It’s an affliction.  It’s a curse and even though I know it is making me stronger…I don’t want it.  You can have the strength.  I’ll take weak and happy, any day.

I’m not exactly sure where I’m supposed to go from here.  If I wasn’t suffering from depression I would be applying for jobs, trying to find a publisher, maybe writing and editing and possibly cleaning my house.  I would be productive and be feeling good about what I’m accomplishing.

I try to feel the wind on my face.  I try to slack off or push through depending on what I’m capable of within each moment.  I’ve read three books in less than a week and I meditated and yet I am still carrying around this rock in my stomach and these limbs, with hardly enough energy to lift themselves much less do anything.

I have to believe that God wouldn’t give me this unless I could win, that there has to be something inside of me that will allow me to pull through this.  That the strength and power to overcome this oppressive, all encompassing, torment is within me.  Or maybe it’s simply time to call out, out to the heavens, I can’t do this on my own, I need help.  I’m drowning in darkness and I need the light to pull me through.  Dear God, Please help me.  I’m broken and I don’t know how to put myself back together.

***

I’m better, really.  The real bad depression lasted about a week.  On the depression scale; 0 being no depression and 10 being the worst it can probably be; I am about a 3.  Not too bad.    I’m not sure if it is because it is vacation week or just the way the thing went.  That’s one of the problems with depression it causes you to not trust your own feelings, then again it could just be me.  I am going to clean my house (fun) and I am going to send out a few letters to publishers this week and I am going to cook some really good meals and I’m going to stack up a few good days and in the words of Dr. Who, “add to my pile of good things.”  Many great creative souls suffer.  Some of the greatest writers never came out of it.  I guess I should be grateful I’m not a great writer.

The school year has ended and I am going back to college in the fall to get my Masters.  Yes that’s great, yes that’s exciting, blah blah blah.  I’m not sure if it is the right decision.  I do know it is just the one I need to make right now.  I can’t put all my eggs into the writing basket if I’m not writing.  I can’t write if I’m depressed about not working and the principal I interviewed with said they were looking for someone with a degree and while I don’t necessarily believe him, my tarot cards said go back to school, so I’m going.  It’s a direction at least and I admit I do miss the classroom.  I just can’t help but think there is something out there, waiting for me to wake up and realize what I’m supposed to be doing.  There’s a call and I keep missing it.  There’s a message that I can’t seem to retrieve.   Wish me luck. 

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