If there’s one thing I try to do, it’s keep it real here. How I feel is relatable. I know I’m not the only person that goes through things like this, and I’m not the only person that feels like this.
It’s always helped me to feel less alone….less isolated. I try to be as real as possible when I’m writing, so that hopefully, if anyone ever finds this in a time of need, they can find it slightly relatable and hopefully feel a little less alone.
So, with that being said, yeah. Depression sucks. It’s heavy, and it takes a lot out of you to just simply exist sometimes.
I’m currently going through one of the worse periods of depression that I go through. And, like I said, it’s taken every single ounce of energy I have just to survive.
That means that, unfortunately, some things go out the window. I’m a very clean person, kind of alarmingly so. I think things to smell good, I like things to be clean…etc.
So when I realized it’s been about 5 or 6 weeks since I washed my sheets, that was red flag number 1 for me. Then, I realized I was only washing my hair maybe once a week. I’d still shower, but washing my hair proved to be too much work, take up too many spoons. No one noticed, and it honestly didn’t look (or smell) any differently, but it felt…wrong.
My house became more cluttered, more disorganized…clean laundry sat unfolded for too long…it was just all of these things that started to add up and tell me that I’m really not feeling my best.
My outside world starting looking, and feeling, a lot like my inside world. And I just don’t have the energy to address it.
It’s hard, it’s kind of embarrassing, and I think it’s something that a lot of people might possibly understand.
I know I’m not alone. I know that there are a lot people who understand this and who go through this.
And I hate that. I hate that anyone ever has to feel this or experience it. I hate that this is so…that’s it’s such a real and heavy experience for so many of us.
I hate that it leaves us feeling alone and undeserving and isolated.
And most of all, I hate that people…leave. I hate that they give up on us, that they allow us to give up on ourselves. Maybe that’s just me, maybe that’s just me projecting…but it feels real.
I hate how I feel right now. I feel gross. Not because I am, but because I look around, and all I see is failure. Failure in my physical world and in my internal world.
My house looks like my brain. Scrambled, cluttered…disorganized.
These were all things I wanted, but haven’t been able to, talk about it therapy. How I just feel like a fucking failure, how I feel so alone, so heavy….I just want to talk about how much I fucking want to die.
I won’t kill myself because I’m pregnant. 18 weeks, and 22(ish) to go. I won’t kill myself…not yet. For now, my son needs me.
But that doesn’t mean that how I feel is okay, and that doesn’t mean that in however many more weeks, when my body is my own again, that I won’t still feel this way.
How I feel right now is NOT okay. I am not okay. And I just want to talk about that, and start getting back on track.
The world requires more from me than I have to offer right now. And living like this…it isn’t okay.
It isn’t really living.
I just wish I had more support right now and not less. I wish that things could be the way they were.
Maybe, just maybe…this one time….therapy tomorrow can be what I need it to be. And things can just start to be okay again.