I didn’t wake up until 1:30 pm on Sunday.
I wasn’t tired. Not a sleepy tired, anyway. I just didn’t feel like facing the world. My blinds were closed, my bedroom door was locked, my phone was dead and I just really didn’t feel like moving.
These days I feel as though all of the energy has been drained from my body. Walking upstairs seems like an arduous task. Doing simple things like going to the grocery store has become something I need to hype myself up all week for.
My mom keeps asking me what’s wrong, and telling me that I just need to be happier. I know she doesn’t really understand what this feeling is, so I am trying to not hold it against her. It’s hard to explain it to people. It’s hard to try and make someone understand. If I could just be happy, I would.
I’ve been wearing the same clothes for three days. Is that gross? Possibly. I haven’t done anything or been anywhere, though. Changing my clothes just seems like an unnecessary task when all I do is lay on the couch.
I have showered. I didn’t want to. But I did it.
I’ve had this headache for about 7 months now that I just cannot shake. It’s there when I go to sleep, it’s there when I wake up. It’s just always there.
My best friend has had some incredible things happen in her life in the past few weeks and I’ve really struggled with it. I want to be happy for her, I want to celebrate with her, I want to hype her up and be that best friend I am supposed to be. I just feel… indifferent. Instead of feeling the joy of seeing my best friend succeed, I am feeling nothing. Nothing at all. That sucks.
I haven’t been eating well. I know I should be eating better, but I just… don’t care. I’d rather eat potato chips than a balanced meal right now.
I need to start packing. I need to move out of this place at the end of the month. Do I care? Not really. I’m probably going to pack everything on June 29th.
I’ve been looking for a job and I just… can’t be bothered to deal with the bullshit recruiters are spewing. “Hey Vee, book a time in my calendar”. No thanks. If you’re interested in hiring me, you can book a time in my calendar, bitch. “Hey Vee, can you please submit a video of yourself speaking so that we can judge your verbal communication skills.” No thanks. If you’d like to judge my verbal communication skills for a job where verbal communication skills are not needed then pick up your fucking phone and call me. “Hey Vee, take our aptitude test. It should take 30 mins.” No thanks. As one of 130 people who applied for this position, I have zero desire to waste 30 minutes of my life until after you prove I’ve been shortlisted to a much smaller candidate pool. You want me to invest in you? Give me a reason.
It’s 1:00 am right now and I have zero desire to go to bed. That’s possibly because I’ve been up less than 12 hours, but more likely just because if I go to sleep then I have to wake up and deal with the universe again tomorrow.
When someone asks me if I am okay, I tell them I am. Truthfully, I am okay. I just hate my present situation. I’m pretty resilient and I know this will pass, but I just need time to stew in misery. I just need to be able to acknowledge that shit sucks. I just need time. That and money. But that’s true of everyone.
I haven’t done the dishes. Why bother? Just grab another plate from the cupboard and deal with the full sink another time. This is weird for me because I’m normally a very clean person. But I’ve been looking at the mess lately and I just don’t care. The mess will still be there tomorrow. My trash will still smell like rotten food tomorrow. Things are just things. Clean. Dirty. Who cares?
People need to stop telling me they’re worried about me. Of all things in this life, giving up is not something I am capable of. I just need… time. I need time to sit and stew. I need the freedom to be able to be honest about what it’s really like living with depression. I need to just sink into the couch like it’s a pile of quicksand and stay there.
I don’t want to put on makeup. I don’t want to put on a bra. I don’t want to answer my phone. I don’t want to deal with someone else’s issues, I’ve got too many of my own. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to… do anything.
I don’t have any tolerance for bullshit. I don’t have any desire to ‘be there’ for someone right now. There’s no way I can be there for someone else when I cannot even be there for myself.
Depression hits different.