I’ve decided to share another bit of writing that’s been fermenting in my blog ‘drafts’ vault. It’s a quick journal entry describing how I was feeling at the time I wrote it, about a year ago, shortly after my most recent depressive episode began:
I have been feeling anhedonic for at least a few weeks. I’ve felt this way off-and-on for the better part of my life. Anhedonic, depressed, dysphoric. Psychological terms aside, I feel disconnected, emotionally numb, empty. Having an emotional reaction is something I remember and can hold in my mind; like the time I went to the beach on my parents’ lot that one summer, or the day I learned to ride a bike – ‘feeling something’ sits in my head like a memory. I won’t go in to my suspicions or psychological analyses of why I think this is my current situation.
The last thing she wrote to me was, “You are stressed and have a lot on your mind. You need rest.”*
I’m not in the same place as I was then, but I have work left to do in order to gain solid and stable footing this time around. The past few months have been a see-saw of mood shifts. I feel confident, motivated, beautiful, clear-headed, and in want of human connection for a week, and then wake up in a well. A dark, bleak place. Feeling unworthy, broken, disconnected, tired, and in want of a pillow and closed blinds, regardless of the sunshine outside. This is where I have been this past week, in the well, but I am clawing my way out of it. Again. And on it goes. The spiral continues to spiral.
The journey I’ve been on for the past year has been the most deliberately honest experience I’ve had with this beast. Though I may lose sight of the reality of the situation or feel like I will never step off the hamster wheel, I know that its’ horns are firmly in my grip. When the clouds creep in, I put on my cape, arm myself with faith and hope, and plunge into the son-of-a-bitch in cannonball position.
*Incase you are curious about this line, it will be explained in a future entry, so come back, s’il vous plait.