Struggling Through Depression

Post Reply New Topic

This post may or may not make a whole lot of sense, but I can't keep this stuff inside anymore. Amid all the other stuff going on with me, the sensory processing issues and social isolation and constant anxiety, there's one thing that has come back that I haven't seen for a while and thought I was done with. I'm depressed again.

I think back to a time in my life, not so very long ago, when I almost destroyed my life as I knew it by refusing to climb out of my hell-hole of self-pity. I was not blind to the ways I tortured those who loved me most, only seeing my own emptiness and confusion yet still somehow managing to be raped by shame and guilt. I had no reason, no cause to feel so black inside. Never abused, never preyed upon, never a near-death experience to haunt me...sheltered. Safe. Yet I stomped upon those arms that protected me by creating my own demons, by speaking the very words that tortured me and haunted me. In my own obsession with the darkness inside, darkness I must have willed upon myself for it came from nowhere, I took for granted what should have been a charmed life.

Now that the darkness is descending once more, again without cause and in the face of a perfect world, I want to throw my hands up in defense of a world that just doesn't understand, refuses to understand the difference between can't and won't. I want to scream justification at those who judge me, that I can't stop it, I can't help it, IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I want to cower, to hide behind the lies well-meaning shrinks spout about chemical imbalances and neurological wiring and relieve myself of the guilt that weighs so heavily.

But the hell that I'm going through is only here because I'm too weak to stop it. Too weak and too cowardly and too pitiful to count my blessings and see the sunshine and choose not to cry. Too selfish to fake a smile to my husband, too preoccupied not to mention it to those who need to hear that I'm doing well. I glorify this state-of-being as if it's some noble fate, some beautiful tortured comic book heroine, this Beauty of the Beast crap I litanize to alleviate some of the shame. It's garbage. This...thing I am is wholly ignoble. Disgusting. Pathetic. Avoidable. My own damn fault.

Who do I think I'm fooling?

I am desperate for arms to hold me, for soft and comforting and understanding words to be whispered in my ear, but there is no one. I must have pushed them all away. I broke my angel's wings and now he's my demon. Stupid to think that blubbering to an online community of empathy-deficient tortured souls so much like myself will help; even if there are soothing words to be said they can't hold me and dry my tears and sing me to sleep. If only this emptiness would go away.

Sorry for whining. I just had to get it out somehow.

It makes perfect sense to me ...

Have you been peeking in my window or watching my empty mailbox?



I also could have done no differently, and therein lies the problem.



No. No man or woman can fix this world and make all things right for anyone.



Too weak or whatever to do that all the time, maybe, but not too weak to never again do it at all.



I also struggle with telling others I am doing "well enough" while knowing that does not comfort them. Nevertheless, and with "love" being acts of one's own will, I keep making my best efforts to offer to them my best efforts toward their own well-being.



No. A cracked vessel did not make itself so.



Are you at all familiar with "The Twelve Steps"?

It appears as though your feelings are similar to mine. Half of the time I feel sad and needing of empathy and the other half of the time I feel angry and oppressed. My intentions and actions are different. The difference sometimes makes me feel torn apart. I sometimes spend long amounts of time debating with myself about whether or not to act on my intentions and the longer the debate in my head goes on, the less I care. Sometimes I feel empathetic and sad for people, but eventually it tears me apart to the point that I become more antisocial and stop caring. I feel a lot of anxiety around people I don't know, but I don't show it. I spend most of my free time alone. I like to be alone, but sometimes I wish that I had friends to talk to. My desire to be alone and my need for empathy conflict with each other. Feeling these conflicted thoughts causes me to go through cycles of repeating thought in which I debate with myself. Repetition of thought is what causes insanity and possibly some personality disorders. Feeling over empathetic for people has indirectly resulted in me feeling more angry, hateful, uncaring, and selfish. My reasoning for why this happens is that when an emotion or thought is too painful you begin to think the opposite to avoid the pain. Most likely you feel tormented because you care too much about people and it is starting to make you darker inside. Most of my problems are psychological. I'm happy with my life, but not with the way that I live it. I have a lot of free time to ponder the process of thought that goes through my head when I feel mentally conflicted and it gives me a greater understanding of psychology.