Depression: Deal With It.
This is a tough one to write about.
Writing about one’s own depression in a public venue is not the easiest thing in the world to do. But just as writing is a source of therapy for me, writing about the reason for some of the therapy is in some sense even more therapeutic.
What has caused this depression is hard to say, but it seems to be wrapped around the daily struggles of life. The daily grind seems to be grinding harder, and the wolves at the door seem to be getting hungrier and howling all the more. I have the only income in a household of three adults, and it seems that depression and anxiety has taken it’s toll on them as well. My wife has a plethora of medical issues which makes it hard for her to work, and my 29 year old son is a full time college student that is planning on marrying this summer. He has a part time job, but I mostly support him.
As for me, I wake up each morning disappointed that my prayers the night before were never answered. I’m still breathing. I feel stressed to the point that I loathe my payday, because I know that there will be an argument in the house. I have daily bouts of agoraphobia. Some days I just don’t want to leave my house to go anywhere. But I have to lest we don’t eat or have food on the table or a car to drive. I strive to feel some sort of security in a structured workday. If suddenly my employer tells me that I must go work at another store, I become panicked and nervous. I would rather call out and lose a day’s pay then to have to change locations, even for just a day.
In this world of mine that goes on inside my head I feel alone. I feel like I have no help. I feel like I am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, alone. I feel no partnership with anyone except the devil. I feel taunted and coerced into doing the unthinkable. But somehow I push through. No medication, no professional therapy, nothing. It’s just me. And it’s scary sometimes.
There is a bullet in my drawer. It has my name written on it with a sharpie. I think to myself “Maybe someday.”
How do I deal with it? I have an understanding with myself…”no one else is going to do it for me.” And then I get mad. I become incensed with self induced anger because this negative emotion helps me to get through the anxieties, the fears, and the low down depressive feelings. I get angry with the people that I live with because I have no help, but I keep it all inside me.
I stay up late at night to be alone, because I don’t want company. I get up before anyone else for the same reason, or I sleep incredibly late on days that I don’t have to work. I have my own room where I write and contemplate ideas for my "therapy". I am safe in my desk chair; it is “my woobie”. If someone is in my room or in my chair, I get antsy or irritable. I pace the floor.
At my job I am vocal. I am not quiet. I can be confrontational if spoken to “the wrong way”. I speak my mind without conscience, but then I feel that I really have no conscience.
I drink moderately, maybe a glass or two of wine once in a while.
I am so tired. At times I have a desire to turn things around, but then I think “Why bother?”
©2011 by Del Banks “I don’t give a shit!”