Have you ever had one of those moments where all of the shitty things about your life, about the world, about the human condition, just hit you all at once and the sheer magnitude of it all makes you want to erupt into tears?
Yes? No? Backing away because I sound like a crazy person?
Well, I have. A lot, actually. On a semi-regular basis since I was a teenager. Blah blah blah.
These days, it isn’t a huge issue. I’m medicated and have a good life and take care of myself and I’m pretty damn happy most of the time.
But having depression sweep into my life and fuck it up royally every year or so? It left me with a bit of a fear of the stuff in my own head. And sometimes, everyone has a bad day. Or a series of bad days. Or a really stressful month. And your brain dusts off a “greatest hits of stressful times” set of thoughts, and holy fuck, look where you’ve gotten yourself. Curled under the covers at 5pm on a Monday, wondering where you’re ever going to find the strength to get back up and work out and clean and cook dinner.
Right… so I’m getting a bit off track. What did I come here to say again? Oh, right.
Basically, I’m pretty damn good lately. My work projects are great, I have fantastic friends and a fulfilling social life. But I have a lot on my plate, and it’s wearing on me, and every now and then, I have an off day or hour… and I realize that IF things weren’t so great right now, IF I wasn’t medicated, IF I didn’t work out or otherwise take care of myself… I would probably be depressed right now. I get a peek into those dark, disused rooms in my head… and it scares me shitless.
I’m trying to stop being afraid of my mind and its moody past. I know, rationally, that I have survived depression before and will do so again if necessary. But I remember the pain, and on some dark nights, I can’t help but be scared.