Sometimes I don’t want to talk about depression because I don’t want it to depress other people or cause them to worry about me. But sometimes the only thing that really helps is to talk about it…
So, TW: depression, I guess.
First I should mention, that I am actually okay. I have no desire or intention of doing anything stupid and I’m doing things to help.
So, I started Zoloft right before becoming pescetarian and then gaining all of the weight. Like seriously…..it’s weird. I don’t know why.
Actually if I think about it, I DO know why.
ALL OF THE PASTA, I AM LOOKING AT YOU.
So that’s a thing.
I think the weight gain due to diet change and meds change has possibly been not helping the medication…work.
Add everything happening in the world from August to now (if you haven’t been following Ferguson or GamerGate that was a good mental health choice, but also, when you can, you need to read up on them) and you have a very fragile Kiery (which is why I’ve been burrowing and puttering and posting the most boring ass shit ever here, and not being creative. It’s hard…almost impossible to make things when I’m depressed – or at least things that don’t depress me more).
And when I feel bad, I then feel bad about myself, and I feel other people’s sadness, and I internalize all of the things and it’s generally not the healthiest situation. I jump from being angry at injustice to self-loathing because I’m a stupid asshole pretty quickly. Living inside my head is like the opposite of awesome, and I haven’t had the words to describe any of it until now (and that’s questionable).
The last couple days have been really rough for absolutely no reason.
And I mean really rough.
I feel like I’ve been going backwards. I feel the abyss of depression just around the corner and it’s scary and it’s not okay.
A few months ago I felt awesome. For the first time in my life I didn’t find the quiet ceasing of death comforting. I wanted to live until the milky way and the andromeda galaxies collide, and observe all the science! I even had this moment where was like, OH NO BUT IF I DIE THAT WOULD SUCK! Which was a new feeling for me, at least since I was little little.
And…that’s gone now, and I don’t know how to get back to it. I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to kill myself, but sometimes I just feel like happening to be dead wouldn’t be such a terrible thing for me or the universe. Hyperbole and a Half put it correctly, and I guess I just need to find my corn.
I know, somewhere, I know that not everything is hopeless bullshit, but damn if it doesn’t just feel that way sometimes.
And feeling bad has this lovely cycle of crippling any creative drive and then plopping guilt on top of my inability to create anything, and when I DO draw, I look at it and it disgusts me, and then everything disgusts me, and today, my body disgusts me and I just want to be left alone….with a lot of coffee so I don’t have to sleep, so I don’t have to wake up.
Oh yeah, don’t forget the lovely occasional existential crises of “what’s the point of you, anyway, kiery? TELL ME NOW”
So I’ve been trying to take a break from making things so I don’t feel guilty for not making them but that sort of backfires, and I’ve been trying to take care of myself and my life has sort of become a balancing act. Of doing enough to feel okay, but not doing so much that it backfires and I hate myself.
I’m going to be exercising more because that helps with the whole having a body problem. I’ve been gaming just by myself but before too long that gets crowded with voices….of “you’re wasting your time” “you’re lazy” etc etc
I think the smart idea would be to change my meds, but I’m not ready to do that to myself again (and my nurse terrifies me :().
So my current plan is to be more conscious about my body – make sure I’m exercising and eating well and right (despite feeling healthier, bread is my weakness, I’m serious), and hopefully loose weight and that combination will hopefully help my head and let my medications work at least so I stop feeling like I have to fight to leave the blankets every day, and maybe I can draw.
And somehow I need to figure out how to fit being okay with myself at this moment in there. All of the things get so overwhelming and I don’t know how to human so I’m just doing what I can, and is that okay?