Tuesday – “Not the best day it seems. Well, I’ve had a few crappy days here and there, I can survive it. It will pass.”
Wednesday – “Not getting any better… Today I’m just tired and sick. I’ll sleep well tonight, drink lots of water, and I’ll be fine. I’ve had lots of progress in the last month. I’m normal. I could be cured, even if I have to take Zolof for the rest of my life. This is just an stressful time.”
Thursday – “Just because I’ve been down doesn’t mean I’m depressed. I have strep throat, my whole body hurts, I can’t swallow anything, and it’s normal that it would bring me a bit down. Besides if I am indeed falling in depression, it’s normal, I’m just starting treatment, aren’t I?, little relapses are okay, if I could get out of it before, I can do it again. No need to worry.”
“Or is the flu medication messing with my blood levels of sertraline?. Either way it’s okay. I had another appointment with the psychiatrist, who is a doll who just sits and prescribes medication… whatever, I already knew it. I’m haven’t been relying on her and I’ve been well.”
Friday – “I don’t want to talk to anyone, it’s back, I’m feeling the self awareness come back. The need to hide. The heavy feeling all over. All my progress is reversed. I can’t keep the information in my head, can’t focus, my sense of humor is gone. This morning I started crying for no reason in the bathroom, seriously, nothing is wrong. I just couldn’t stop. One person noticed I had been crying, but he can’t understand that there was no reason, so he gets angry because he thinks I just don’t trust him and goes away.”
“It’s been at least 2 months since I don’t have that horrible feeling of pushing people away. Things have been so good.”
“At least this is my last day working. Tonight I will go celebrate with the guys for finally finishing this shit for good, and then I will rest, and I won’t have to wake up early tomorrow, and I won’t have to wake up early for the next 2 months, so it should be fine. I stopped taking flu medicine, I took a shot of penicillin and some IV fluids + something for the fever. I’m going to be just fine tonight.”
Friday Night – “The world has acquired a horrible gray mental color that is painfully familiar to me. People seems not to like me tonight. They look at me weirdly, not with a smile like always. I don’t feel like talking to them anyways. They’re laughing. But it’s absurd. To me it’s like watching tv where a bunch of random people are laughing. It’s irrelevant. It must be a nice night for them, but I can’t stand it. I need to go home right now. I can’t take it. Somebody is talking to me but I can’t gather what he’s saying. I don’t care. I have to get out of here. I feel bad. Both physically and mentally. The penicillin shot just made me unable to sit but otherwise nothing happened. Nothing good. Nothing is good… I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”
“I took a taxi and went home. My family was away at a family party, celebrating the high school graduation of my brother and cousin. I told them I couldn’t go because I was feeling really sick and I had a high fever.
“I missed my brother’s graduation… I just want to sleep. Can’t sleep, my body hurts, my brain hurts.”
Saturday – “How long is this going to last?. I’ve convinced my family that I’m prostrated in bed because I’m really sick from the strep throat, but the truth is that I feel better from that. But I feel awful. I was doing well, how can I get back to that. I tried. Till the last moment.”
I know there are lots of chances I’ll get back on my feet again, but…
How long is this going to last. I want out.
And what the hell happened? What made me fall back into the pit?
Last month was good. When I’ve been at my best, I feel I have lots of friends and everyone cares about me. Right now I feel like I have nothing. One of those images has to be fake. I really hope it’s the last one. It has to be.