There’s a lot of blogs that talk about depression. A lot of really great writers have posted their journey and expressed how depression “looks” to them. I say “looks” because depression isn’t always something you feel. Sometimes its just a glass you look through. For some people, the glass is distorted and scary. For some people the glass is cloudy and hard to see through at all. For some people the glass is blue and everything seems sad. For some people the glass is grey and everything seems lifeless. For most people, its a combination of views often changing and morphing into other views.
For me, the glass is high-contrast grey – lifeless but painfully clear and sharp enough to hurt sometimes. There’s a dull film of emptiness laying over everything but there’s also an intrusive stab that comes whenever something happens unexpectedly.
One of the most draining things is making decisions. Did you know that? Think about it…
So stands to reason when one is depressed, making choices and decisions are about the most exhausting things a person can do. Yet I can’t believe how often I’ve encountered the question “so would you like to do ____ or ___?” after I’ve clearly stated I am depressed. Terribly depressed. Incredibly depressed. My brain can’t function very well except for the simplest things and anything external stimuli is excruciating to deal with. The very sound of the birds chirping makes me want to run screaming into a cave. So it stands to reason, when I am depressed, the very worst thing in the world is to have to make decisions and choices of any kind.
Now, my logical facilities are working somewhat. I have an autopilot for most life functions. I can get through just about any situation necessary. Its the unnecessary situations that enrage or drain me. The more trite the decision, the more draining or enraging it will be.
So at this point in time, I am trying to avoid everything that requires excessive attention, focus or decision-making. I can’t do it. This is why in the past month I’ve begun at least five writing pieces and finished none of them. And I don’t mean they aren’t perfect enough. I mean I just drifted off in the middle of them and lost all interest. I know I’ll get back to them and so they are posted privately for me to dive into later.
This was also how I finally realized just how bad this has gotten.
I can’t write.
I go to the doctor tomorrow for a new scrip. Hopefully in a few days I’ll have more coherent things to say.