I have entered the dark night. Somethings I had not noticed before. I dissociate in meetings when I have to talk. Depression carries such shame with it. So it has to be private. That privacy is relentlessly isolating. There's shame. You overcompensate. Your sense of how you seem to others is both bloated and emaciated. You hate yourself for it the unsteady image you hold, it's disproportions both constant and in flux. The world doesn't stop spinning. Time cannot afford you relief. I size people up too much. Trying to sense what they can detect of me. This creates some kind of unintentional connection. Intimacy by accident. It's too tender there. Skinned knee. And all this is a loop. Wooden rollercoaster clattering stuttering havoc.
Have you thought about it? Have you considered it? Have you made a plan? Have you begun implementing a plan? Have you made an attempt? Stepping stones to the river. You are here. X marks the spot.
Today I was standing in the kitchen making lunch and I heard my own voice say with some sense of certainty, "I don't think so." I hadn't been talking or really thinking about anything. Just making lunch. It was surprising and not as surreal as you'd expect. Which was also surprising.
This depression arrives with what I think is anxiety. I'm not great at naming emotions or states of mind but I told S I have been low-key angry and I don't know why and she asked more about it and said my description sounded like what she experiences as anxiety. If it is, I rather dislike how it combines with depression. I've mostly come to a place of peace with depression. But this robs me of that peace.
Everything is a jumble and I crave peace.
I hoped writing this here would discharge it and let me asleep in peace.
