Depression

I wanted to take a second after that last post to talk about what it's like to be me lately. Because you have to understand, when you ask me "How are you? Are you ok?" and I say "Yeah, I'm just thinking about such and such..." or "Yeah, I'm just wishing Shayne were here," that's not exactly true.

So for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of going through a major depressive episode yet, let me fill you in on what its like to be me right now.

Truth is, I have no fucking clue why I'm sad. I can tell you what event probably triggered my latest bout of sadness, but that's not why I'm sad. At least, it's not like I'm legarthic and anti-social because I'm constantly thinking about Shayne. Maybe in the first few weeks after we broke up... but not anymore.

More often than not, I'm not thinking about anything.

The past three months, and less frequently for six months before that, I have lost all control over my emotions. It's a scary thing. I may be in a great school, with a girlfriend, surrounded by supporting friends who love me and looking forward to a gap year with much travelling, but I'll still feel hopeless and alone. That's why my first therapist was such a dud. He was all about cognitive therapy - change how you think, and you'll change how you feel.

It doesn't matter what I think. My emotions are raw, all consuming. If I'm sad, nothing will get me out of it. Oh sure, I'll start trying to figure out a reason, and I'll think about how happy I was with Shayne, or how happy I'd be if only this were different, or if I had gone to Macalester instead of taking a gap year, or if my friends were home... but I don't have to think about anything.

When I got near-suicidal a few weeks ago, what struck me was how far this had progressed. For a long time now, eight or nine months, I have fantasized about killing myself. I'd have this big funeral, everybody would come and feel sorry for me, I'd have proof of who cared about me and who didn't. Shayne would regret breaking up with me, others would regret not giving me a chance. Most importantly, the pain would be gone. Oftentimes my depression would express itself physically through a headache, and I'd imagine shooting a hole in my head to relieve the pressure. I'd be free. But I always stopped there. Because then I'm the guy in the casket. And being an athiest, I'm incredibly afraid of death. So I felt safe, knowing I'd always reach that conclusion in my thoughts, and so would never try to hurt myself.

Except a few weeks ago, I became so sad. I had no control over it; I could not will my way out of it, and didn't have the motivation or the strength to even want myself to be happy. And what I found was a feeling of extreme indifference moving over me. I still didn't want to die. But as I banged my head as hard as I could into the tile wall in the bathroom of Chili's, I didn't care. I never got that far. The only thought going through my head was surprise at how my skull bounced against the wall. I didn't feel the pain, I didn't feel ashamed. I only felt like I was finally acting on all this sadness. Emotion had taken over, and my rational self had lost all control.

That's why it's important to remember that this is a chemical imbalance. (I guess.) Because all-encompassing hopelessness is a powerful thing. I laid around for months (months!) after Shayne left me, feeling like I would never get work, never meet another girl, never get my life together. I probably could have gotten a job in three weeks, but why bother? What's the point? I knew I needed to look, but I felt so dead inside. And so it took me three months before I realized there were tons of jobs out there.

That's the main thing. I can put on a good show, make you think that, at least temporarily, everything's ok. But I'm just going through the motions. When people say, "It's just a woman, get over it," they need to realize how powerless I am here. I feel dead inside, nearly all the time, and nothing I can think or do, nothing you can do or say, can make me feel better. Nothing.

Now, this may be my emotion coloring things, but life has become one disappointment after another. Even my birthday is going to be another day at the store. My mom says she's got a good present for me. More than anything else, I need to be shown that there are good surprises left in store. Because it seems like it has just rained shit for months, with little end in sight. And so I've gone numb, bitter at all women, bitter at the world. And I know that's silly, I know I've got a great future ahead of me, that in three or four months I'm going to be out traveling the world. But the disconnect between what I know and what I believe in my heart is miles, and I'm dead tired of trying to get through each day. I just want it to end. I just for once need something that makes me feel good to happen. I want to feel normal! Ugh...