Still here. Not enough energy to leave.
Learning more and more about how little I know: about me, about everything.
I don't feel loved. Complicating this: I wouldn't recognize it if I was loved. Also, I don't feel loveable anyway.
I feel alone and lonely, I feel too far gone. How can I learn to love myself when I have no experience of feeling love or loved? It's a deep hole I've dug. A series of caves and passages and chambers. I'm deeply hidden. Deeply damaged.
I cannot even imagine what feeling healthy - aka depression and ptsd-free - would feel like.
Good night.
Friday, March 16, 2018
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Depression is killing me
Feeling so beyond-saving toxic. I'm my own chemical spill. Nothingness envelopes.
Frightening really, if I could feel anything so intense. Numbness or crying, that's my likert scale. Therapist helping me release, yet I wonder if I just keep stockpiling toxic feelings. The respite I have is numbness.
I'm so tired. So despairing of ever feeling better. I'm not sure if I even want to feel better anymore because of the hope of it's possibility implied. Hope can be cruel when nothing changes. I feel so weak, so unable to help myself. This toxic self loathing permeates every cell.
Poison.
Where to go, what to do. Do I just give up and slowly erode into the earth? I kinda have given up in many ways. What remains?
There is band and choir.going out takes so much. Nothing feels easy or manageable, always fear-laden. I am bewildered to think that some people aren't depressed. It seems impossible to me. Can't imagine what feeling better would look like. Only maybe I would feel motivation. I would feel interest in things.
Everything feels hard. And I'm so tired. So tired.
Frightening really, if I could feel anything so intense. Numbness or crying, that's my likert scale. Therapist helping me release, yet I wonder if I just keep stockpiling toxic feelings. The respite I have is numbness.
I'm so tired. So despairing of ever feeling better. I'm not sure if I even want to feel better anymore because of the hope of it's possibility implied. Hope can be cruel when nothing changes. I feel so weak, so unable to help myself. This toxic self loathing permeates every cell.
Poison.
Where to go, what to do. Do I just give up and slowly erode into the earth? I kinda have given up in many ways. What remains?
There is band and choir.going out takes so much. Nothing feels easy or manageable, always fear-laden. I am bewildered to think that some people aren't depressed. It seems impossible to me. Can't imagine what feeling better would look like. Only maybe I would feel motivation. I would feel interest in things.
Everything feels hard. And I'm so tired. So tired.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)