I think I can now say with complete conviction that I was depressed. At the very least since the end of last year but probably well before that and it peaked between June and about two weeks ago. Or maybe troughed is the better word here? Is the peak of one’s depressive episode the best part or the worst? Eh, either way I feel like it’s lifting.
I went to a doctor the other day and he said not to stress too much if I still have occasional downs. The main thing is that I’m feeling overall better and that ‘feeling betterness’ is outweighing the lows. I’ve seen a few good doctors lately. It definitely helps.
At my absolute worst, I couldn’t get out of bed. I would be ambushed by anxiety the moment I woke up and staying in bed, avoiding the day, seemed like the only way to get through it. I have a rescue dog though who is very adamant about his walks so staying bed all day wasn’t a possibility for me and I remember resenting his existence very deeply at the time. Which obviously made me feel even more like a piece of shit.
I think I went a month without washing my hair. I’d just keep tying it up. Thankfully my hair is curly and naturally dry so it wasn’t toooooo gross but it was extremely knotted and took a lot of work to detangle when I finally found the energy. Showering was just as hard. It was not a good time.
I think the hardest thing about depression is the loneliness and isolation that comes with it. You can’t do anything so you feel worthless. You soak up other people’s frustration like a sponge and then feel worse. You’re not yourself. You don’t want to see anyone. You’re not fun. Each time you curl up into a ball, you’re letting someone down. Each time you fail to show enthusiasm, it’s a disappointment. And so on and so on, it’s like compounding interest. Every fucking day, you’re more in the hole.
And then you’re not. I don’t know about anyone else but, for me, it wasn’t any big thing that changed. I didn’t magically find a support network (aside from my therapist). I didn’t start doing anything different. I just felt a tiny bit of enthusiasm for, of all things, replying to my emails. Don’t get excited, I didn’t do them that day. It wasn’t that rapid a transformation.
But the thought lingered and brought other thoughts with it and eventually I got to my emails and I felt productive. And then my brain fizzed with other things I wanted to do. I started using my habit stacker app to give myself a routine. I started meditating again. I started taking care of my skin; something I had always been so fastidious about but had completely neglected. I wanted to DO THINGS to make myself feel better and I was actually excited. I felt good. I was happy to wake up in the morning, instead of being filled with despair. I could look around and see beauty instead of just not wanting to be here.
The difference in how I was feeling then versus now is quite shocking to me and the weird thing is that it’s this new feeling that feels unreal. Like why am I so fucking happy about the smell of jasmine? Why doesn’t the depression fog feel unreal and this new joy feel solid and permanent? I’m hoping that changes the longer I feel better.
I’m not going to say it’s been all sunshine and rainbows since I started feeling better. I’ve definitely felt shit again since then and I don’t want to jinx things by saying this but, overall, I think the fever has broken and I’m on the mend. I hope so anyway.
And if you’ve read this far, here’s a little present for you (yes, I’ve started taking pics again! Yay for the easing of depression!):
thecuriousadventuresofme 