There is this misconception about how people with depression must feel. According to common belief, people with depression feel sad all the time. People with depression cry a lot. People with depression consider or attempt suicide. People with depression are easy to spot.
And while some of those things may be true some of the time, none of those apply to me, personally.
I have moments of joy, of laughter, of anger, of loneliness (so often I feel lonely - even when I'm around people) of grumpiness, of feeling nothing at all, and yes, moments of sadness. But mostly, I just feel tired. And I feel tired of being tired.
I'm tired of the brain fog. I'm tired of being exhausted all damn day, only to lay in bed, wide awake, for hours at night before I can fall asleep. I'm tired of not having the energy to hold a conversation, let alone play with my kids or work on a fun project. I'm tired of fun things sounding like a chore. I'm tired. So.very.tired.
But, I'm not sad. Not often. I mean, things make me sad, just like everyone else, but sadness is not my default setting. Not by a long shot. Most of the time, my mood is slightly above "meh", but below "cheerful". I'm overwhelmed a lot of the time. So much to do that all I can do is stare at my list, paralyzed by the feeling of "too much". And let me tell you, over the past 9 years, I've lowered my standards over and over again. And it's still too much, most of the time.
I honestly can't even remember the last time I cried. Before I started this current combination of meds, maybe? Certainly not that long ago. Maybe a few weeks ago?
I don't know. My memory doesn't track correctly these days. I can occasionally place the timing of an even based on it's proximity to something I wrote down or has been important for a long time. Other than that, it's all a mystery. Everything happened "the other day". Sometimes that translates to yesterday. Sometimes it translates to a year ago. I really don't know the difference, most of the time.
I feel foggy. Like I'm dragging my thoughts out of some disgustingly viscous semi-fluid. And when I do grab them, I can't hold them for long. And I don't know how to fix that.
Annoyingly, when I tell people I have depression, their first question is, "Do you have thoughts of harming yourself?" No. In all honesty, I don't. I never have. I contemplate running away a lot. When things are really bad in my head, I start planning what I'll take and where I'll go. At this point in my life, I think that I have enough barriers in place that I won't actually run away. Barriers I have carefully put in place over the past several years.
And before you ask the follow-up, no, I don't have the urge to hurt anyone else. I empathize far too deeply with others to be able to hurt people intentionally. (Except that one guy, about 8 years ago, that I nearly punched in the face, but I promise you, he totally had it coming.) In fact, my aversion to hurting anyone is a large part of why I haven't run away. My children would be devastated and scared if mom suddenly disappeared. I'm honestly not sure how Patrick would react, but I know he'd be upset. So, no. I don't want to hurt myself or anyone or anything else.
I just want to stop feeling tired. I want to feel again. But I want to not be overwhelmed by every sensation and emotion.
I am just. so. tired.
