What My Depression Feels Like
Sometimes I don’t feel all Warm and Fuzzy
There’s a pull from the center of my throat into the darkest depths of earth. It hurts. I’m fluttery and panicky all around that still drag. I’m bolted to the ground. I take my short leash and roam, round, round, round, circling my anxiety.
I just smoked a cigarette perched on my bedroom windowsill, feet on the fire escape, head smacking the raised glass. I kept the room dark while I faced the outside. Kids were getting dropped off by buses, a U-Haul driver passed slowly.
None of this is unfamiliar. It remains unknown if I am chemically fucked or this is natural, cyclical. Can’t say it’s seasonal — one of the worst bouts came in late spring, continued sporadically all summer. I sit in silence with the lights off and manically ask what am I supposed to do, what am I meant to do, what next what next what now what now what now what about RIGHT NOW. Best answer I get is write write, same as before but same as what exactly? I was skeptical then, I am skeptical now. The days start and end and I start and end and still this. When the other ideas come are those real? Is any of it real? Are the answers and guidance I think I’m getting just self-directed hoo hoo nonsense? I feel compelled to do X and I do X and then X leads me to Y which compels me to do Z and then A through M and then I wonder why I was ever doing X. And then I feel compelled again to do X and I am lost.
My gut aches. My eyes are wet. I spin and spin spin spin. There’s an unfortunate lack of sugar in my kitchen. Carbs are defrosting but not fast enough. In the beginning I would have chalked this up as “the resistance” a la The War Of Art and now I just feel like an ass.
Last night I came home from class struck by the notion that what I’ve been developing as a business plan is maybe meant to be a non-profit, a social enterprise or something. My struggle to assign profitable monetization ideas suddenly made sense. Disappointing to the power-hungry wannabe mogul in me but comforting to the wannabe global human empowerment agent in me. And yes, looking back on these last 10 months, the work with Ms. Swedish business coach, the soul searching, the idea exploring, and even before that, the job frustration all coming back to not feeling empowered and not feeling positioned to empower, yes yes it all makes sense. I went to bed; listened to my guided meditation and fell asleep without incident. I woke up a flat balloon. Where did it all go?
Last week I spent a lot of money; I spent like I did coke — might as well do it all now and recover later. Always seemed more sensible than parsing out anything destructive over many days or months though I do that too. I bought a slim daybed for my office, ostensibly for when family visits so I don’t have to sleep on my 50-year old couch but also for the option of AirBnBing my bedroom while I convalesce in my hidey hole and create and dream and idle amidst the glow of my table lamp and glare of my computer screen. I bought a still camera, I bought a video camera, both sized and designed for travel and inconspicuous documentation and both offering expanded capabilities.
Shall I describe more of my ideas and projects which remain secret and nonexistent to you dear reader? More about all the things I’ve mentioned previously and that you have yet to see and, I imagine, assume will never see the light of day? You see I have an entire dialogue with myself about this presumed perception you must have. You MUST have, really nothing else seems plausible. It has been 10 months after all, if it hasn’t appeared now then when. Exactly. Exactly because this is what I also assume. Or fear. The worst part is knowing such thoughts only beget such reality. More spin spin spin and pull towards dirt.
The birds are starting to chirp outside my window. I've only just lay down to sleep. I roll over in disgust, turning my back on the dawn attempting to break through the space between my heavy curtains…