A Suffocating Feeling of Dread
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| Photo taken during my trip to Labuan Bajo, Indonesia - December 2016 |
Last week I had the worst run of depressive episodes. It was certainly the worst I can remember. It has been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster. Sometimes I'm pretty good, sometimes I am like utter shit but generally I'm bouncing around in the middle. Just below the middle, perhaps. It was extraordinary and freakish one that I do not want to repeat. I've had this long enough though to know that no mood lasts forever. This too shall pass. I just have to ride it out. For me, talking, running, exercising, meditating, none of that stuff works when I'm in it. It's a disease of isolation and I need to hide. When I am in it, I just need to side it out and know that I will reappear on the other side at some point. It's weird, when you can feel an episode coming on, because there's nothing you can do but brace yourself and wait. You have no control over it, just keep on taking the meds and hold onto the promise that this too shall pass.
Often I just felt tired and lethargic; I thought I was lazy and not as capable as everyone else. I was tired. Really tired. I was edgy and emotional and anxious. I began noticing that I felt exactly like it looked outside; grey and miserable. Numb. I sank further and further until finally breaking down and I just couldn't go through the motions anymore when I felt like I was dying inside. It was a constant feeling of unease. All day I've been telling myself what a failure I am, how wrong and weak and stupid I am. I feel broken, defective, betrayed. I feel unworthy, inadequate and a burden.
Like a haze at the back of my head and a prickling in the middle of my chest. Most of the time it's background noise. Then suddenly, for some reason or no reason at all, the prickles in my chest get sharper and my head gets foggier. My heart pounds faster as it tries to defend itself from impending danger and my breathing becomes shallow as I desperately try to get air into my body and my brain. My throat constricts and my chest contracts and my heart almost bursts from my chest and my head was hammering and I tried to grasp onto something, anything, to keep me tethered and whole. My entire body is feeling everything and nothing all at once and I just want to jump out of my skin, get away from this feeling, get it away from myself. All I remember is that I was in so much pain and I knew how much better it would be if it just all ended.
I seemed happy, doing all the stuff that "normal" people did. Secretly, I was just about coping, comforting myself with overdoing and occupied but not addressing the fact I had a serious problem. I tried my best to masquerade as someone happy and "normal", but often I didn't have the strength or desire to play the part, and negativity spilled into words and behaviour. I become needy, constantly seeking reassurance.
Some days are excruciating and my escape is to put on my smile and pretend that I'm okay. Every day is like living a lie and everyone sees me as a normal and confident guy with good career ahead. No one sees me in my room at night crying alone and wondering if there will ever be a day it doesn't hurt. I didn't have any strength of my own and, like a parasite feeding on a host, it wasn't out of choice; it was my only means of survival.
I could tell that my gloominess was repelling my friends, and I feared that my constant despairing was pushing them further away from me. It was plainly obvious to me that people were putting up with me, rather than enjoying my company.
There is light at the end of the tunnel. Every single time someone said this to me, I hated it. I hated hearing that it would get better when I couldn't see that it would. When you're in that place where all you know is your sadness and you don't even remember not being depressed, hearing that it will get better is a slap in the face. But what was worse than the sadness, was the void. The emotional black hole that left me dead inside. Making any kind of decision was impossible. I didn't and couldn't care about anything.
I'm not a stable human being by any means, and I'm not through with my depression, but I am better.
Often I just felt tired and lethargic; I thought I was lazy and not as capable as everyone else. I was tired. Really tired. I was edgy and emotional and anxious. I began noticing that I felt exactly like it looked outside; grey and miserable. Numb. I sank further and further until finally breaking down and I just couldn't go through the motions anymore when I felt like I was dying inside. It was a constant feeling of unease. All day I've been telling myself what a failure I am, how wrong and weak and stupid I am. I feel broken, defective, betrayed. I feel unworthy, inadequate and a burden.
Like a haze at the back of my head and a prickling in the middle of my chest. Most of the time it's background noise. Then suddenly, for some reason or no reason at all, the prickles in my chest get sharper and my head gets foggier. My heart pounds faster as it tries to defend itself from impending danger and my breathing becomes shallow as I desperately try to get air into my body and my brain. My throat constricts and my chest contracts and my heart almost bursts from my chest and my head was hammering and I tried to grasp onto something, anything, to keep me tethered and whole. My entire body is feeling everything and nothing all at once and I just want to jump out of my skin, get away from this feeling, get it away from myself. All I remember is that I was in so much pain and I knew how much better it would be if it just all ended.
I seemed happy, doing all the stuff that "normal" people did. Secretly, I was just about coping, comforting myself with overdoing and occupied but not addressing the fact I had a serious problem. I tried my best to masquerade as someone happy and "normal", but often I didn't have the strength or desire to play the part, and negativity spilled into words and behaviour. I become needy, constantly seeking reassurance.
Some days are excruciating and my escape is to put on my smile and pretend that I'm okay. Every day is like living a lie and everyone sees me as a normal and confident guy with good career ahead. No one sees me in my room at night crying alone and wondering if there will ever be a day it doesn't hurt. I didn't have any strength of my own and, like a parasite feeding on a host, it wasn't out of choice; it was my only means of survival.
I could tell that my gloominess was repelling my friends, and I feared that my constant despairing was pushing them further away from me. It was plainly obvious to me that people were putting up with me, rather than enjoying my company.
There is light at the end of the tunnel. Every single time someone said this to me, I hated it. I hated hearing that it would get better when I couldn't see that it would. When you're in that place where all you know is your sadness and you don't even remember not being depressed, hearing that it will get better is a slap in the face. But what was worse than the sadness, was the void. The emotional black hole that left me dead inside. Making any kind of decision was impossible. I didn't and couldn't care about anything.
I'm not a stable human being by any means, and I'm not through with my depression, but I am better.
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