It started when I was in college, back in the Nineties and I was living in San Francisco. Grunge was just starting and I was trying to transition out of my all-black attire, pre-goth mood. I managed to function still – eat, breathe, groom myself to a certain degree. But I remember never, ever leaving my apartment, except to fetch the mail downstairs.
I know my depression started way before then, back in high school, but today, I still recognize my current behaviors as stemming from back then. If I could choose to never leave the house, I wouldn’t go anywhere…. except that I know that it is affecting my son.
It really does help to have goals, and something to do.
Whenever the holidays come around, I don’t feel well. I don’t know how to socialize. It stems from fear, abandonment and rejection. I try to force myself to go out. And I’ve read all the articles about going for walks, getting sunshine to help with the depression and moods. I’ve been on meds (I stopped). I’ve tried talk-therapy (I stopped).
But I know I can be happy, and I am for the most part. Just not “on” all the time, because that gets to be exhausting. Maybe I’m just normal. This is normal, right? I admire those who are so open about their depression and mental illness. I try to be. And I wake up thanking God for another day.
From the blogs I’ve visited, these women writing about their form of mental illness have family support, and they write about their day-to-day musings and happenings. But I can only dwell on that they’ve got support. . .and I don’t. Or I feel like I don’t, but I do. Somewhere over there.
It’s the feeling that I don’t that hinders me. I don’t know how to get over that feeling. I’ve been advised to surround myself with people. But that only irritates me. Then, I’m afraid that I’ll grow up to be an old lady with no one around her. That my child will go away and never visit.
Yesterday, my niece called me over to be with the family. I went. This morning, I find myself in another mood. And I’m unsure how to get out of it right now.
. . . Furthest Sense 