Do You Feel Depressed?

I’ve taken a really long break from writing on my blog. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to write but I’ve lacked any and all motivation to write. Why should I be sharing my boring every day life and thoughts? Who’ll read them anyway? Well, maybe someone will who’s going through something similar; someone who feels quite lost and without purpose and stays up too late because it’s the only time they feel like they can really think but then that late bedtime hinders them the following day? I can’t be the only one who does that.

Skip to almost two months ago when I went to see a psychiatrist (unrelated reasons) and they were more interested in my mood and my socialising habits. They asked me if I felt depressed and honestly what kind of question is that really? I mean, what does depression really feel like? I could use a bunch of metaphors to try and describe what it is to me and how it affects me but to say, “yes, I feel depressed”, seems too strange. Maybe it’s because people will use that term so loosely these days, “I’m depressed, my favourite show got cancelled” or, “I have to work over the long weekend, I’m so depressed“.

Maybe because, to me, depression isn’t a feeling, maybe because, bare with me here, depression is a state of mind because it’s a mental illness. Depression affects your brain and the way your mind works so much that the internal workings, the way you think and function, start to affect how you act and appear outwardly. So why was this person who can diagnose me with depression asking me if I feel depressed? No, I don’t feel depressed, I feel like I always do, tired, stressed, awful, despondent, exhausted, worried, frustrated, drained, pathetic, lazy, worthless, stupid, panicked and utterly useless. Nothing new.

When was the last time you felt happy?” they asked, what?? I don’t know, I don’t keep an actual log of my “happy meter” to tell you the last time I was above a bloody 5 let alone off the charts. Upon thinking that I realised that I can’t remember the last time I was really happy. Maybe if I have to really think about it, it’s been too long?

To cut a long story short, they did diagnose me with Major Depressive Disorder *salutes* and prescribed me anti-depressants that, “may help restore your interest in daily living“. As if it’s a conscious decision, like one day I decided that I had no interest in daily living but I just keep doing it out of necessity. After one month I had to check in and I reported that I didn’t feel any different so they doubled the dosage. Maybe it hasn’t been long enough to say for sure but the extra quantity I’m taking doesn’t seem to be having much of an effect so far. I know that they’re supposed to make you worse before they make you better (I’ve been through this before) but I’m still skeptical on how they’re supposed to improve my life. The brain is a very powerful thing but I have my doubts over whether or not we can control it or “rebalance” the chemicals within it with selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors.

I have so many thoughts that I thought I ought to start writing them down, so here I am making some kind of log about this round with anti-depressants and my feelings of depression. I honestly don’t mean to be so negative I guess my doubts just really shine through because this is my normal and I can’t see it changing.

Lizzie X

 

Muted

It’s 3:00 pm and I can feel that my brain has been slowly shutting down over the past two hours. It’s quite a scary feeling really. Why don’t I have have control over my own head?

I can feel it getting worse by the second. I’ve gone running up and down the stairwell, I’ve taken a break from the computer, I’ve had water and still I feel as if my brain is slipping away from me. I could just sit and do nothing. I am becoming nothing.

I am not here sitting at my desk, taking notes, doing work, I am sinking  down through the earth. The ground does not touch me but it envelopes me. I am not trapped but I can’t get out. I am safe and it is quiet.

My head is up in the sky but there is no wind. I can’t see for miles. I think my eyes are open but I can’t see at all.

My head is not cold. It is in a charcoal grey cloud but it is not wet. My head is solid but melting. Everything is fuzzy and muted; sounds, smells, sights. Everything is numb.

It tastes like that moment when you realise you haven’t spoken anything or even opened your mouth to pretend to in a very long time. It’s a strange comfort.

I feel if I fell off my chair and onto the hard floor that the jolt would bring my body up out of the earth and my head down out of the stormy rain cloud and they’d be reunited.

But then, what would I be?

 

Lizzie X