I just realized that I don’t feel things like I used to. I don't feel. I used to have various moods and emotions; good and bad, magical and nostalgic. Earlier I had some music playing and it made me feel nostalgic, but only for a moment, then the moment passed though the song kept playing. And that has been my life lately: Devoid of feeling, devoid of emotions except one: regret. When I do feel it’s from when I’m looking back...
My 20s, for all their problems, were a magical time. I was young, felt smart. I had a lot of the problems then as I do now (though I didn’t understand it quite as much then), but they hadn’t take such root yet. I’d often feel quixotic (you can find that mood in earlier entries), like serendipity was in the air so thick you could cut it with the dull knife of an overused cliché. I’d have bad times though, and listless times, frustrated times. I’d feel all sorts of things. But now...
Now when I look back I feel regret at all the wasted time and forgotten dreams of my lost decade—and my seeming utter inability to do anything about it. Many of my days are spent listlessly, without feeling or ambition in life. I just exist in a fog of self-doubt feeling all the more worthless for the pointlessly existing. I often like to look at life events from the perspective of years later... in the distant future when things are good and I’m remembering the bad times... oh how hard it was, "But it made me who I am today, and for all their negativity those bad times are a part of me."
Bull-hockey. I don’t feel that now. I can’t look at this as some story where this is some period of character development, or some stage God puts me through to become a better person, because I’m stuck here like this because of my own inability to make it better. I suck because I suck and it sucks but that’s it, so suck it.
I know this all sounds really dark, but it’s not depression, at least not how I used to have it. That was much much worse. This though, it isn’t so much that it’s bad just that... that I’m nothing. My life is on hold, my soul is in stasis. And it’s been like this for a long time now. I moved across the country to live with a support network (relatives) so I could deal with my depression. Only people with depression aren’t the most gung-ho of people, so it took me a whole year to do anything about it, and only then because my dad made me. But that’s been almost two years ago now, and here I still am; no worse, no better, nowhere.
I’ve been off my anti-depression medication for a few months. After moving to my Aunt’s last November I never transferred my prescription (inaction is easier than action, apparently people who used to have depression aren’t so gung-ho about GTD, either). I have been wondering if my slowly deteriorating emotional state is because of that. I am trapped in my woes due to a state of constant inaction. The Depression Demon isn’t back but good god am I fucked up.
Anyway, I had a doctor appointment last Friday and got back on the pills, same as before. They take about a month to kick in, so we’ll see. I’m also waiting to hear back about making an appointment for a pysch eval. The doctor asked me if I had anything else, like bipolar disorder, as that could affect what medication I should be taking. I don’t her I’m not diagnosed with anything, but only because I’ve never been to a doctor to be diagnosed (no insurance, no money, lack of gung-ho, etc). But I have plenty of problems and whether they are caused by depression or occurred concurrently along side it, they’re still here and they’re making it hard to function as a real human being. I'd like to get all this stuff figured out. I sure as hell can't do it by myself.
Since moving to my aunt’s I’ve barely left my room. I’m a borderline agoraphobic. The world fucking scares me and I can barely leave to buy groceries or mail something at the post office. I had a job interview a few weeks ago. They called me to schedule a time the next day and when I got off the phone I nearly had a panic attack. Or maybe I did have one, as I ended up in bed and in tears and feeling like the world was closing in. I’m a damn invalid.
I know the “answer” is to put one foot in front of the other, to take baby steps until I can take full steps. To, as people would say, “Pull myself up by the boot straps and get on with life.”
People are full of shit. If the answer was as simple as that, then it wouldn’t ever be a problem. You don’t tell someone with a broken leg to “just walk it off” because that would be ridiculous. So it is with this. “Just get over it” “Think happy thoughts” and “Just be more social” are all mental/emotional illness equivalents of “just walk it off.” As if saying it made it so.
So that was kind of a rant tacked onto a woe-is-me spiel. I should probably end with something positive and touching that wraps all this together, but I’ve never been good with poignant endings. I just sort of awkwardly stop and yeah. But I wanted to write this to organize my thoughts, even though my short-term memory is so bad that I forgot two of every three thoughts I had organized. I didn’t go into detail about my various mental/emotional problems or a bunch of other things because my hand is tired and is beginning to cramp. Asshole.
But writing has helped. I was lying in bed thinking this stuff over, but too sleepy in spite of my insomnia to do anything about it. Lamenting my lack of feeling, I made a little du’a and, you know what? Suddenly I felt the energy to get up, turn a light on, grab a little sketch book and my fountain pen (which writes my chicken scratch beautifully on the drawing paper) and get to writing—and still have enough energy to then type it all out.
Okay, here’s something good. I discovered a new band (new to me) the other day. They’re called Tangerine (link). They’re an indie band from Seattle. I first heard their song "Feel The Same”(link) and just fell in love with them. I’ve had one of their songs stuck in my head nearly this entire ti—alright alright, you shitty fucking hand, I’ll stop. It’s about time for Fajr anyway.
Current Music: It's all in your mind