A couple of days ago my depression decided that it was going to punch me in the face. It’s done it before, it really hurts you get really bummed but you just wander around hoping no-one notices that black eye it gave you. The problem is, this time a boxing glove wasn’t good enough for depression. This time it wanted to punch me in the face harder… much harder. I’m pretty sure what happened was this…
I was busy minding my own business, making positive strides forward, even getting out of the house and having a good time. I even laughed. I laughed quite a lot actually because I went to go and watch an insult comic. I must have been having a really good time because then my depression started getting jealous, started thinking I might forget all about the dark and twisty monster lurking in my mind. The next thing I knew depression was behind the controls of a freight train careering straight toward me. I tried to dodge it and step off the tracks but depression derailed the train just to prove a point, just to hit me and remind there was nowhere I could hide. Depression is a real dick.
Mentally I’ve been left absolutely exhausted. My life is in a pickle and I’m not sure how to sort it. I’m too mentally tired by the depression to be able to sit down and think about how to fix the mess. The only silver lining I have found is that when I’m asleep I’m not depressed. I slept for the past 12 hours… it was wonderful. But eventually you have to wake up and remember a train hit you and you’re in a full body cast, being constantly reminded that depression is you’re unwanted best friend. It can’t seem to take the hint that it’s not a mutual friendship. I sleep to avoid depression, I leave the city, avoid things that remind me of depression. Yet it’s looking an awful lot like it’s going to be me and depression on valentines days again… (I’m genuinely not sad about being single, even less so on valentines, it just makes my point.)