early morning
These days it feels more like madness than magic.
If you can make out what’s on my monitor, you’ll see that I’m spending time on code more than I am on photography these days, but even though my loyalties are somewhat divided, a camera is never very far away.
As to the title of this post, it’s a nod to my mental state of late. I’ve suffered from depression for as long as I can remember, and while I take medication daily to help keep me on a baseline of “okayness”, the loss of someone (and something) that was once near and dear to me has sent me into a spiral.
These feelings go beyond sadness, and I know there are those who would say that I should never give someone/something this much power in my life, but to say that is to only know a very small part of the story. To say that is to think that the emotions I’m feeling, this mental state of mine, is merely transitory. I know the feelings of loss will lessen over time, but experience has taught me that the bone-crushing, soul-sucking depression is never very far behind.
And as much as loved ones and acquaintances may try – and I love you all for trying – taking me out, placing me in social situations where everyone is happy isn’t always the best medicine. Instead of being buoyed by the companionship and laughter, I only end up feeling like an imposter. I feel tired — social situations wear me out in the best of times, but when my energy levels are this low and the hounds are barking at my heels, I can’t grasp those social skills that we use to make others think that everything is just fine and wonderful. I feel as if I’m letting my friends down, that I’m wasting their time, that people will breathe a collective sigh of relief as soon as I leave the room.
How do I know what others are feeling? I don’t, to be perfectly honest. But I know that I can’t stand to be around me when I’m like this, and I have to live with me – no one else has to bear this if they choose not to.
I feel a deep sense of shame for not being normal, for not being able to get better on other people’s schedules. I’ve been called greedy for feeling this way — which, in case you’re wondering, is the absolute worst thing you could say to someone who feels like they’re worthless, especially when that person has reached out to you for help. I’ve never found it easy to ask for help, and to have a hand slapped when you finally find it within yourself to ask for it is the harshest punishment of all.
I feel shame for disappointing my friends and loved ones. I want to be hale, I want to be whole. I want to be able to look past the end of my own nose and see that life — that my life isn’t shit, and that I do have worth.
What some don’t seem to get is that for people with depression, happiness and normalcy is the thing we crave most in the world. We would love nothing more than to be able to straighten our backs, and look the world and ourselves in the eye and say “I’m OK” and really mean it.
But for whatever reason I just can’t quite get there.