Some days I don’t believe it will get any better, that I’ll feel sad and lonely and terrible for the rest of my life, and on those days I just want to disappear. I want to fall apart, melt down into a puddle and be dried up by the sun like there was nothing there in the first place. Some days, like today, I just don’t feel good at all. I wish I didn’t have a job or bills to pay, I wish I could just collapse and fall apart and scream and cry and then just fall asleep or stare into space or lose myself in my mind and never come back. Some days I want to be like those people who are catatonic, unreachable- just empty. You can look in their eyes and find nothing, just a void. I want to escape like that, to just go, disappear. Not every day, not anymore. Just some days, like today. Tomorrow will be better. It usually is. My therapist said it’s a good sign, being able to recover from these bad days more quickly than I had before. He read about a research study that theorized the duration of depressive periods was more important than the severity. The longer they last, the more vulnerable the brain is to depression in the future. So at least I have that going for me now – some days rather than every day. That’s progress.
One of the hardest thing lately is this self-imposed isolation, the walls I’ve built back up higher and stronger than ever before. I talk to certain people about certain things. With some I am more open than others, but generally I’m unwilling to say what’s not obvious. I’m not willing to let anyone in anymore and that’s hard. It’s hard because I can’t imagine doing it ever again. It’s sad because I feel so scared of people, of being judged or misunderstood or hurt, yes, but more than any of that I’m too scared to let other people see me, to be hurt and damaged by this sometimes toxic person I am. I feel bad. I feel like the ugliest person alive, some days. Mentally, I know it’s not true. I know there are far worse people than me. I know that people like my friend Robin have met people who truly are “bad” and she assures me I am not even close to that, but there are some days where I just feel that way and it’s hard. Hard to believe that anyone should ever have to deal with my bullshit. Even hard to believe that anyone should ever subject themselves to this bullshit right here, whining and crying about stupid, useless feelings. Some days I just deserve to be alone, to be miserable all by myself, to get it out and finally move on and be the kind of person people like – someone funny, someone who makes jokes and laughs at herself, someone who listens and doesn’t talk so much, someone unselfish and kind. I’ll find my way back there, in time.
Somewhere in all of this I lost that self-soothing part of myself that matters most when I’m alone and upset. It’s this constant belief that things will be okay, that things happen as they do for a reason, that it will all lead us to a better place in time, a happier place where life is beautiful. Some days I see a glimmer of that, some days I think it’s there and I only need to walk a little further before I can grab it and hold it again, but then it disappears, like a mirage. I’m wandering the desert and it’s dry and I’m weary and nothing is as it seems. Some days I think I’ll die out here but, others I have this little voice inside of me telling me not to give up. Maybe tomorrow is the day something big happens, or maybe tomorrow is another day like today. Some days are better than others. I hope tomorrow is one of those days.