I started to go downhill around lunch time, I was overtired, I was frustrated, I had no motivation, and I just wanted to be at home, not facing an afternoon at work, or a one and half hour train ride home. Writing my blog has been somewhat of an outlet for me, not to draw the ‘poor me’ card but to educate, to inspire, to create change, and if it was one life that I affected for the better, then I have achieved my aim. One of the hardest things about writing my blog has been the fear of writing about me struggling, indicating that today is not a day of recovery but a day of trying not to fall over that cliff, a day trying to lose that bloody Black Dog. I expect that there will be days when I am not well, when depression affects me more than usual, I can’t expect that it will ever be gone from my life because it won’t be. Writing that I am struggling, makes me feel guilty, just another emotion that I have to deal with on top of everything that comes with depression.
My senses became heightened, everything was louder, smells were more pronounced, lunch seemed spicier than normal, my skin seemed so much more sensitive, and my eyes felt tired and worn out. I was short of breath, my heart was racing out of control, my mind was going into overdrive, and I had little energy left to do anything. I felt very grumpy, and I just wanted to be at home all alone.
And for the first time in a while, I just wanted to cry out of control.
There was no trigger, there was no reason, for why I was feeling like this, why my body was responding so harshly, why my emotions were taking control of my body and my mind, instigating negative self-talk, and making me just find hate in bloody everything. It is just what depression is!
I left work despondent, moody, and angry. I got to Flinders Street and that is where I started to hate absolutely everything. I hated the people wondering around the platform, getting in my way, the woman that nearly knocked me out with her bag on the escalator, and then the group of tourists who wouldn’t stay on the left side on the escalator so I could get down, and then missed my train.
I soon had my head phones in, Birds of Tokyo pumping through my ears, taking my concentration off everything around me, if only it was that simple.
A man sat next to me on the train, sat way to close to me! So close that I could feel the hairs on our arms joining in electricity. It felt creepy and wrong, and I hated it that I could feel him there, that my skin felt so sensitivity. For an hour I sat there wishing he would just get up and get off the bloody train. I could’ve moved but there weren’t any other seats, and my ankle protests strongly to being stood on for periods of time. So my hate escalated, I hated him for sitting there, I hated him even more that he was close enough to cause electricity and my arm hairs felt like they were on fire.
Music kept pumping in my ears, but it wasn’t making me feel any better. As I got closer to home but I felt more and more angry and depressed.
I was angry because everyone around me was speaking another language other than English, I am not racist at all, but I didn’t feel like I was in Melbourne, and they were all talking so loud, shouting into their phones. I just wanted to stand up and say shut the f**k up, because despite Birds of Tokyo very loud inside my ears, I could still hear them, and they just wouldn’t bloody shut up. I hated being on the train, so close to crowds of people, and having to under protest hear every bloody word that they yelled and spoke.
My soul mate rang me, he was going out with the boys to the pub, did I want to come? Are there wives going? Don’t think so. Why would I want to go? I didn’t care if I went or not. I hated that he had been invited out with the boys, yet I never have friends to invite me anywhere, I feel so alone sometimes. I hate my lone existence. That outside my relationship I am all alone, that I don’t have one single person who would think to ask me to do something, or ring to just say hi.
I told him to go out. I would be fine at home.
Didn’t even have my little boy at home with me because he is at the ex’s house. He is probably having fun that he doesn’t have with me, because I am the boring, strict Mum. I hate that I have to share, that I can’t have my little boy here with me every day and every night, it feels like an emptiness in me that I can’t describe.
I hated that people were so impatient in the car park, trying to inch their way in front, when there was no room, not giving way, and just being downright rude. I hated that there was a traffic jam, that I was stuck in a long line of cars going nowhere. I hated that people were tooting there bloody horns when it was obvious we couldn’t go anywhere.
I hated that I wasn’t enjoying my job, that it felt like a chore that any sales man could do, which I am not. I hate that I am not challenged, I hate that I endure 12 hour days, and it is all just for the money, because I no longer have passion, and it feels like I am slowly draining away, and I hate that I am scared that I can’t sustain this any longer.
I hate the x box, I hate the x box games, I hate smart phones, iPads, and every other bloody device that has made us a disconnected society. I hate that our kids aren’t the same as what we were as kids – outside playing, making cubbies, riding bikes, enjoying just being kids. Instead they live in a make believe world of online games, social media, music, and mobile phones that don’t leave their palms. I hate that technology has taken our children away from being children, and families from being families.
I hate my family who wouldn’t know if I was alive or not, and I hate that we are no longer a family because they didn’t believe husband and wife could separate, and that mental illness exists. I hate what my Mother did to me, I hate that my sister is so much like my Mother, I hate that they just don’t want to get ‘it’, and therefore they don’t see their daughter and more importantly don’t see their grand son.
I hated getting home, I just wanted to be alone, I didn’t want to have to answer questions about how I was, how was my day and work, I just wanted it to be quiet, nothing around me. I was a bitch, and I hated that too.
I hated that there was no food for tea, no alcohol for a drink, nothing to do, nobody to spend it with.
I just wanted to cry, but I didn’t want the soul mate to see me cry, because this is meant to be the ‘new me’. There isn’t anything ‘new’ about me, in fact I feel old, run down, and like a grumpy old woman.
I got back in the car, went to the store, got some food, and some wine. I just needed to escape everything, just needed to be alone before I started to cry, because I knew if I started I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t show that I wasn’t okay, because it was meant to be the ‘new me’, I had to responsible, I had to be okay!
Eventually, I became at home alone.
Then I read a post from a family member, her Dad was very, very sick, her post brought tears to my eyes. I felt so bad, I felt so guilty. I hated that here I was struggling with bloody depression, a strong emotion, when people close to me were going to lose a loved one, their hearts were breaking, and here I was failing to control bloody depression. What a bloody failure!
Then I started talking to a dear friend, many kilometres away, and she was no longer with her husband, her Mum had died, and she was going through a really hard time. And I hated the men in this world that caused such heartache, destroy lives because they are men who shouldn’t have women in their lives because they have the inability to be committed, happy ever after.
I just hate what the world does to its people, the heartache, the grief, the ill health that we all have to endure. I hate the suffering!
And now as I sit here, writing this blog, I feel guilty that I feel the way I do, that I am so weak, such a failure that I am feeling like this, hating so much. I hate that I can’t just be me, just be normal, illness free, I hate that I can’t be stronger. I hate that I am letting my soul mate and my little boy down, that I can’t keep going like this, that my energy, may passion, my commitment, and my health are draining slowly out of me, there is no more oxygen, there is no drive to keep going. I just need to cry it all away, and hope that depression stays away!