For a while I have been inhabiting a no energy, cloudy-headed, dull, grey world. I try and tell myself that if I do some of the things I love to do that I will feel better. Then I stand in front of my drawing table staring at a white sheet of paper for 2 hours with a pencil in my hand and never make a mark. Or I go for a walk and come back feeling exhausted instead of energized.
Who is this person? She can’t be me. I am full of energy, always busy doing something or making something. I like to laugh and joke and sing songs to my dog. I draw funny pictures and play the ukulele really badly. I get excited about things no one else really cares about and I love being here.
I am angry at myself. This seems like such a waste of time. And I feel sorry for myself too. And then I worry that maybe I will just feel this way forever – that this is who I am now. That a switch has flipped in my brain and for the rest of my life I will feel lonely and empty and like I am wrapped in layers of cotton and that the world will remain grey and dull. Just like this. Forever.
And somewhere inside I know that it will get better. That depression lies and that I am not alone. But right now that doesn’t clear my head or my make my heart any less heavy. Right now I just want to curl up under 10 blankets in the dark and be completely still and quiet because light and noise and movement are too hard.
And maybe, if I stay still and quiet in the dark, like an imagined monster from my childhood Depression will forget that I am here and move on.