I’ve been feeling it creep on for about a month. It’s always there, however, hovering behind my eyeballs, reminding me that I’ll never truly be free or happy.
I thought I was getting better, that if I could just maintain a positive outlook I could gradually pull myself out of the muck enough to get a job, fix my car, find my own place to live. I kept telling myself that I could feel myself growing stronger. I went on a diet and lost 20 lbs., started walking, made more of an effort to interact with people. And I did feel better but I also felt that crazy flutter that everything could shift before I would have time to thrown my hands out and break my fall.
Of course, I was having to do all of this “uplifting” against a nasty back draft called family. I would drag my ass out of bed feeling, well, if not chipper, not depressed and within 30 minutes of being up would be regaled with the latest fucked up bullshit (usually involving my youngest sibling and his baby mama drama but not always). This happened at least 3,4 times a week.
It started to grind on me. As I stood there pouring coffee I could feel the silent scream “Please shut up, please shut up.” Sometimes I would leave the room hoping that my abrupt departure would signal that I didn’t want to hear about it. I finally just said, “I don’t want to hear about it.”
So then the conversations started being prefaced with, “I know you don’t want to hear about it. . .” and then continuing to tell me anyway.
Did you think I asked you to not tell me because I was being selfish and didn’t want to listen to the things that were on your mind? I asked you, nay I pleaded because I realized that I was slipping and that having other people’s insanity rehashed over and over was only pushing me further into the abyss.
Plus, more times than not the insanity played itself out in front of my eyes. Just yesterday I have to avoid colliding with a zombified meth head while that person’s child looked on with worried eyes. Sadly, this happens around here once or twice a month and it’s NORMAL.
I don’t want to leave my bed. I just had to come back to it because the screams of a toddler were shattering what little bit of calm I have left.
I probably would have become more depressed simply because of the change in the season but I will never know. I’ve told myself I will make an appointment to inquire about going back on medication.
I will NOT be hospitalized because I allowed someone else’s crazy to put me there.