So, I achieved absolutely nothing productive today. This morning, I felt my mood rapidly descending into darkness and instead of dealing with those feelings, went to sleep on the couch to try and combat them. Sleep is the most exquisite escape. I woke up a few hours later, feeling less bleak. Not good, not bad, just nothing. It’s days like this, I have to read the post it notes on the walls around me to prompt me to take care of myself and do simple things like brush my hair, have a hot shower or to make food for myself. Otherwise, they go undone. I leave my hair up in a messy pony tail and ignore it all week, sloth about in the same PJ’s for days at a time, and eat either nothing at all, or something shitty with no redeeming nutritional qualities at all, then spend the next hour simmering with regret at my poor choices.
Today, I managed to have a shower and change into a fancy new pair of PJ pants and my favourite Simpsons tee shirt that fits like I’ve had it for 20 years. I even managed to wash my hair and put a little bit of makeup on, which on a rough day is something I seldom achieve. You’ve gotta take the small victories where you can. Some days, the most I can manage is to purely survive the daily acts of living that most people take for granted. Why are they things I have to write down to prompt myself to do on the daily? It sounds ridiculous that actions so basic require persuasion, doesn’t it? And often, doing all these things is incredibly exhausting for me. Occasionally, I just lean against the wall in the shower, feeling the cold tiles press against my breasts and elbows, as the water beats down on my back for half an hour or more, just pondering why all these inherent, basic acts are so difficult for me at times. How is it possible that washing my hair feels like such a chore? Or that putting makeup on can fill me with such insidious anxiety? These are supposed to be simple constitutionals, not efforts that require an elephant stamp of praise. And yet, somehow that’s what they are. People don’t really talk about this side of Depression. Some people imagine to be Depressed is to feel hopeless sadness every minute of the day, but often, it manifests as just plain ol’ numbness. A vacuous chasm of emptiness. No energy, no achievement, no desire to do a damn thing you’re supposed to do. Your body feels like a fatigued weight you’re forced to drag around and your spirit feels utterly flat with exhaustion. Everything just feels like too much fucking effort. There are no tears to cry. No sadness to lament. Just an absence of any and all emotion.
And it’s on these days, I curl into a ball on the couch or in bed, and sleep away the nothing and hope when I awake, that life doesn’t feel so damn hollow anymore.