I wrote about depression in 2013 for the first time. It was really the first time that I had ever been comfortable with talking about it in public and I found the whole experience really liberating and therapeutic. I also realised that there are so many many people out there who feel the same way that I do and who find as much comfort in reading about my experience with depression as I do in hearing from them. You can read the post about what it feels like to have depression here.
Like most people who deal with depression do at some point, I recently went off my medication. You might be rolling your eyes right now thinking, “ugh, what an idiot!” and you’re totally right. In my defence though, I just want to say that going off my Wellbutrin wasn’t exactly a conscious decision. It just kind of happened. I ran out of medication and then I was away and then I came back and I wasn’t feeling too bad and then I was like “ah well, I’ll get another prescription if I start feeling down again.”
But it wan’t until my head felt like it was in a black cloud and I was hunched over sobbing into my bundled up fists that I was like, “wow, this is not good.” And then I felt that old friend of depression crawling up through my heart and drilling down deep into my brain and my core and I thought, “ugh, hello Guilt”. And then I was apologising.
“I’m so sorry, I am the worst. You must hate being around me.” I was lying on my back, sobbing with sadness and guilt and my eyes were swollen from the hot tears burning my cheeks. Because someone that I love was having to deal with my sadness and of course, he was even more confused than I was. I mean, it was my birthday! We were happy! We were in love! My poor boyfriend just kissed my face all over (except where my hands were covering my eyes because I couldn’t even bear to look into his loving face) and told me over and over again that I’m not the worst at all, and that he loves me and that I’m not nearly as horrible to be around as I think I am.
When I’m depressed, I want to be alone and around people at the same time. Because the only thing worse than having no one to talk to, is having to talk to someone – when everything I think of saying seems like it will bore the brains right out of anyone in conversation with me. I imagine saying something so mundane and stupid that their brain turns to jungle oats right there and then and just trickles right out the side of their head.
So I feel guilty that I’m not the normal me. And I feel guilty that people have to spend time around me. So I try to be alone. Then I feel guilty for shutting people out and I’m like, “no one is going to want to be friends with me when I’m better.”
Anyway, what I want to say, is that I suppose it’s ok to fall down sometimes. It is, isn’t it? I hope it is. Because I know it’s my own fault I’m feeling this way again. And that I should never have been too lazy to stick with my medication. But I’m going to the doctor on Wednesday and I will be back to normal soon… I think.
Anyone else know what I’m talking about? Hello?