I’ve started scheduling blog posts so there’s already one that I wrote a few days ago but scheduled to post for today published.
However. . .
I am feeling frustratingly empty right now to the point of tears and I’m practicing opening up – so here’s me sharing.
The blessing of being medicated is finally going through life with only small shifts in the currents of my moods rather than the turbulent tides I was used to a few years ago. You happily forget what it’s like to feel depression – to feel like you want nothing more than to exist as a blob wrapped in blankets doing nothing, saying nothing, and trying your hardest to think nothing. That’s what my depression looks like.
Where did this come from? I’m taking my meds, going to therapy, painting, hanging out with friends sometimes (probably not as much as I could), avoiding negative news, and trying to appreciate the positives. So what gives?
I feel like I’m never going to find love, I’m never going to figure out my full potential, I’m never going to fit in anywhere, I’m never going to manage my bad habits, I’m never going to lose the weight I want to and thus never look how I want to and thus never attract my partner in crime, I’m never going to want to leave this bed.
Seriously, where did this come from? I hate it. I also hate opening up and feeling vulnerable so all of those thoughts – while they’ve been active – have never been expressed before.
Depression is so fucking tricky because it’s your brain lying to you and convincing you that who you think you are on the good days is the lie, rather than it being the lie itself.
I hate this. I’m just going to go to sleep and hope I wake up feeling like myself again. I’ve got an exciting meeting tomorrow and if depressed Jessie is the one who wakes up it’s gonna be a tough day of maintaining the facade of being fine.