Describing Depression
It's a cycle.
I know this. I know it. But I keep hoping I've "figured it out" enough that it won't hit me as hard next time. That it'll slowly get better. And in a way, that is happening. I'm learning how to manage it in healthier ways. But the core feelings and experiences are the same.
I can't focus. I don't want to. I want to sleep because I feel like I can't intellectually or emotionally do much more than that. It almost feels like there's a big hole in my brain or a haze over the whole of it - my cognitive abilities are impaired. I literally can't function as well as I normally do. And there doesn't seem to be any obvious reason for it. It just happens.
I feel numb. It takes a lot of energy to make myself feel things the way I normally would. I have to dig deep to find real sadness, anger, joy, love, and more. On the surface, things just feel...blah. I don't care. I can sense the true emotions sleeping under the surface, but I have to work to find them and wake them up. And even then, I don't feel them fully. It's like I just find shadows of the real things and the shadows mock me even as I try to force them into the empty spaces where my emotions should be. "I know something should go here. I think I remember what it's supposed to feel like. I can't seem to find the right one. This doesn't exactly fit but it's the closest match I can find right now." After a brief wrestle with the shadows, I give up. "Whatever. I don't care enough to work this hard."
Everything feels harder. Things that are normally no problem for me feel like climbing a mountain using just my arms ("I don't know how to do this. Why should I work that hard for something that should be so easy?"). Things that are normally challenging for me seem like locked boxes on the other side of a 20 foot electric fence. I laugh feebly and promise myself I'll think about trying again someday ("Who the hell put my dreams there anyway? You suck.").
My mind has a tendency to focus on the things I've done wrong. The ways I've hurt people. Not in a detailed, obsessive way, but a vague "Oh yeah I kind of suck as a person" way. I feel lonely but also sure that I don't deserve to have anyone there anyway. So I retreat further into my hazy isolation with a grim satisfaction that I'm at least not forcing my presence on anyone else.
Or I do try to force it on someone else. I try to find someone to fix me. And in order to compensate for my feelings of low self-worth, my certainty that I deserve nothing, I tend to get angry. I try to demand help, I shame others for not helping me more. I try to blame them for my current shittiness. That doesn't go well. Sometimes it gets me attention, but it doesn't earn me love. It earns me resentment. And it hurts the people I'm trying to convince to help me. What I need is real connection. But since I don't believe I deserve it (and real connection requires a depth of emotion that depression seems to steal from me), I try to settle for superficial help, someone to DO something for me to fix me. But that doesn't work because it's not what I need. Plus it strains the relationship, only pushing real connection further out of reach.
I'm adjusting the way I handle depression, but it's still a work in progress. I'm slowly transitioning from making other people responsible to taking responsibility for myself. I can see that I'm making progress but it still sucks being in the thick of it. I'll get there.
For today, depression just sucks.
I know this. I know it. But I keep hoping I've "figured it out" enough that it won't hit me as hard next time. That it'll slowly get better. And in a way, that is happening. I'm learning how to manage it in healthier ways. But the core feelings and experiences are the same.
I can't focus. I don't want to. I want to sleep because I feel like I can't intellectually or emotionally do much more than that. It almost feels like there's a big hole in my brain or a haze over the whole of it - my cognitive abilities are impaired. I literally can't function as well as I normally do. And there doesn't seem to be any obvious reason for it. It just happens.
I feel numb. It takes a lot of energy to make myself feel things the way I normally would. I have to dig deep to find real sadness, anger, joy, love, and more. On the surface, things just feel...blah. I don't care. I can sense the true emotions sleeping under the surface, but I have to work to find them and wake them up. And even then, I don't feel them fully. It's like I just find shadows of the real things and the shadows mock me even as I try to force them into the empty spaces where my emotions should be. "I know something should go here. I think I remember what it's supposed to feel like. I can't seem to find the right one. This doesn't exactly fit but it's the closest match I can find right now." After a brief wrestle with the shadows, I give up. "Whatever. I don't care enough to work this hard."
Everything feels harder. Things that are normally no problem for me feel like climbing a mountain using just my arms ("I don't know how to do this. Why should I work that hard for something that should be so easy?"). Things that are normally challenging for me seem like locked boxes on the other side of a 20 foot electric fence. I laugh feebly and promise myself I'll think about trying again someday ("Who the hell put my dreams there anyway? You suck.").
My mind has a tendency to focus on the things I've done wrong. The ways I've hurt people. Not in a detailed, obsessive way, but a vague "Oh yeah I kind of suck as a person" way. I feel lonely but also sure that I don't deserve to have anyone there anyway. So I retreat further into my hazy isolation with a grim satisfaction that I'm at least not forcing my presence on anyone else.
Or I do try to force it on someone else. I try to find someone to fix me. And in order to compensate for my feelings of low self-worth, my certainty that I deserve nothing, I tend to get angry. I try to demand help, I shame others for not helping me more. I try to blame them for my current shittiness. That doesn't go well. Sometimes it gets me attention, but it doesn't earn me love. It earns me resentment. And it hurts the people I'm trying to convince to help me. What I need is real connection. But since I don't believe I deserve it (and real connection requires a depth of emotion that depression seems to steal from me), I try to settle for superficial help, someone to DO something for me to fix me. But that doesn't work because it's not what I need. Plus it strains the relationship, only pushing real connection further out of reach.
I'm adjusting the way I handle depression, but it's still a work in progress. I'm slowly transitioning from making other people responsible to taking responsibility for myself. I can see that I'm making progress but it still sucks being in the thick of it. I'll get there.
For today, depression just sucks.
Mine is different from yours in that I don't feel I deserve any care from anyone. When sometimes all I need is for someone to pay me a little attention. But of course I don't reach out because I feel so unworthy and that no one would want to be around me when I struggle. However, when I have reached out in the past and let someone know I needed a visit or something, just talking to someone gets me out of my head and into a better place able to cope with it. BUT then again, I don't reach out, because I feel so worthless. Endless struggle.
ReplyDeleteI feel that way too. Usually when I have "reached out" it's been when I'm suicidal and I know I can't just keep it all in anymore. Thanks for sharing your experience. ❤
DeleteI’ve dealt with depression all my life. When I was 22 years old, it developed into bipolar disorder. (Unbeknownst to me at the time) It was just diagnosed as severe depression. A lot of the symptoms you have are the same ones that I have had. Primarily, I had a negative spiral of thoughts. For example, I had gone through so much rejection from females throughout my life that I had rationalized that it was all my fault. Random gal smiles at me . . . my self-talk would go something like “She’s secretly just laughing at me and making fun of me. I’m just a horrible person. Nobody loves me. Nobody will ever love me. I’m unlovable. I’m not worth loving. I’ll NEVER be loved. But she is cute. Maybe if I just . . . Shut up. Don’t even think about it. You are worthless and she’ll just laugh and make fun of you like everyone else”
ReplyDeleteI dealt with that until I finally found a good counselor. He worked me through cognitive behavior therapy. Three times a week for an hour each session for almost 3 months then continued counseling at lesser durations for the next 3. It gave me the ability to challenge my thoughts. “She’s secretly laughing at me . . . Why would she do that? She has no reason to, and she’s never even met me.” It took months for me to finally get myself to the point where I didn’t immediately have those knee-jerk thought chain reactions.
Even to this day, I still have to go back and see a counselor to refocus my mind and go over the cognitive behavioral therapy techniques every once in a while. It’s never a perfected process. At least I can ask a gal out for Korean and Kimchi now! Conversation on the other hand . . . yeah still working on that part 😉
- Frank
Thank you for sharing your experiences, Frank! I appreciate your thoughts!
DeleteKara, I can feel your pain from here. I have known the same despair. The unfathomable depths of depression. The dungeon that I couldn't crawl from even though nothing physically is actually holding me there. The frustration of not knowing peace or serenity. 23 months ago, after decades of depression I was asked by my son, to attend a family recovery meeting. He had just then begun treatment for his alcoholism. I had been requested several times before, during his previous recovery attempts to participate in some weekend family presentation, so this didn't seem any different than before.
ReplyDeleteBut it DID turn out to be different. I heard a man tell our group that he had serenity. And that there was nothing more that he cherished and guarded more than his serenity. He went on to tell the group that he was a recovering alcoholic, son of an alcoholic and father of a recovering heroin addict. I thought that if he had obtained serenity, perhaps I could get some too. The man showed such vulnerability that he surely must be telling the truth.
At that point in my life I had been suffering from severe chronic depression for a couple of decades. I was taking anti-depressants and I was still miserable. I had no recognizable emotions other than fear and anger. The world seemed to play itself out around me, while I was in a daze. I was sealed in a bubble and was incapable of escaping.
I learned so much that day! That I had a voice, and I could ask for things. I learned that I didn't have respond when put upon by others. I didn't have to react. That doing nothing was OK. That nobody had a right to control me. I could decide what I wanted. These things to me, at the time, were options I had never thought existed. And, most importantly, that I had a disease. Not always fatal, but a serious disease none the less. I hadn't heard of codependency, but I had it.
From that day, I became willing to learn, to change if need be to get that serenity. With each day I became more enlightened about the disease through attending meetings, reading, sharing my problems with others. I was frightened, at first because I was told that the way to overcome the disease required a spritual healing that I could get through accepting a higher power. Quite a concern for an atheist! But I began to see, first hand, that many others in this organization had obtained that same serenity that I had learned about. How strong they all seemed when they were together!
So I made myself willing to try. I continued with meetings, and got a sponsor. I met with another man and discussed things. Not the mundane male subject matter that I had had plenty of experience with, but you know, really important things. You see I wasn't raised with any great amount of nurturing. I left home at an early age, as soon as I could escape. I somehow escaped without being taught a lot about life. Or if I had been taught, I wasn't paying attention.
I went to AlAnon, Adult Children, and CoDA meetings, listened and shared and gained a large number of wonderful friends who support each other. It is a loving community that I find so exciting. If you haven't experienced 12 step recovery I beg that you try it! When I need help I can call others. I have my sponsor that guides me through the steps. He's so understanding.
Recently I began reading "Conversations with God" by Neale Walsh. If you are spiritually inclined, you might find it interesting. My upbringing was pretty strict religiously, Protestant...13 year of parochial schooling. I'm sure they would find the book heretical.
Well, I've got to turn in for the night. Perhaps we can continue a conversation someday.
Rolland Rice
Thank you for sharing, Rolland! I have been going to CoDA and it has been life-changing for me. I'm also building an amazing support network, which has been huge for me as well. I had some incredible insights tonight about my experiences with my depression and I'm sure I'll make a video or two and at least one (probably a few!) about those insights as well.
DeleteI'm so glad to know you! Your experiences and insight are so helpful to me. Thank you!!