know what’s worse? This is something you’ve said so many times in the past…

Broken Record.

I’ve been so absorbed in myself lately.  The days go by with not so much in between. I hide from questions like “what is new with you?”, but unfortunately, most people will ask just that.  Hey, I’d ask that since for the most part it’s just a social convention not a genuine question.  I feel disconnected from everything and everyone and I hate to pretend there’s a connection anyway (it requires too much energy and it’s futile).  When people talk about how much fun they’re having, or how much they’re succeeding in life – even if they’re people I care about, I get jealous and bitter.  I want to steal their lives and let go mine down the toilet.  It’s a shameful behaviour and I recognize it, so I avoid them too.

I do nothing all day.  I mostly sleep on the day, and waste my life online in the nights.  I follow the path of least resistance, I shower ocassionally mostly because it’s too hot.  If my family weren’t here I’d probably wouldn’t get myself food or put on clothes at all.  I do basic things trying to raise no suspicions, and even when trying, the facade is starting to fail its purpose and I’ve seen them growing concerned about “my situation”.  I don’t want them to *know* how wrong things really are, because then they’ll confront me, and I have no answers.

I’m not suicidal or overly anxious.  I’m immersed in a state of dullness, where everything is slow and insignificant.  Almost nothing moves me.  That said, I’m slightly reactive… I can laugh sometimes, and I still enjoy thinking about things and reading -the internet is good at handing things to you with not much effort especially if you have a fast connection.

I have things on hold for the future but they don’t seem real, they look like a TV show, I could turn it off anytime and it would be all the same.  I act like I do, but don’t really believe I’ll be doing these things ever.  I just have them there because they’re supposed to be somewhere… “just in case” I get better.  Just in case I survive.

I hate to say this.  First of all because… I can’t justify myself for what I’m feeling.  And, there is a seemingly “easy” solution for this, right? “Well you do something about it! Do something! go out!”, etc, etc.  If any of the readers knows what depression is like, they’ll know of this answer and what it means.  It’s makes me feel like drilling on my own eyes.

Either way, I swallowed my own bitterness for a while on Tuesday, and got together with a couple of old friends for movies.  I encouraged the meeting for some reason.  Maybe I would get something out of it, at least an anecdote.  It also seemed to make my parents happy. So yes, I went, met them, laughed and followed the social ritual.  I think they saw me as very charmy and witty.  I tried hard and I was conscious of every move.  I even showered, borrowed my mom’s really nice black skirt and put on make up to raise no alerts.

It is hard to hold such an act for so long, so when I got home I was exhausted and nothing had changed the least bit.

Yes, yes, I know. I’m out of medication.  How things could ever get better like this.  I could go back to take the medication I was on before – doesn’t work.  The new meds -risperidone- put me into a comma where I can’t even think straight.  I really have a lot of pills from the times I’ve said I would take them but I didn’t – my drawer looks like a farmacy.   I’m tired of the psychiatrist and her dull look who just sits and writes things on her chart attempting one thing after the other like it was nothing for me to take one failure after another  “hey! it didn’t work! lets try something else!”.

A friend has been telling me he knows this amazing psychiatrist who has a private practice in xxyz building.  I tell him I have no money for private things, but he says that I could work something out with him.  Seriously? I barely go out of the house and it’s hard enough to talk to the people I already know.  Now, going to see this person who not only doesn’t know the first thing about me,  but it’s not even expecting me, to ask for their services and inform them that I won’t even be paying full price?

I don’t know, but right now that sounds about as easy as going to the moon in one jump with both your knees broke.

I feel guilty because I know people who genuinely care about me and have tried to help me but nothing changes anyway.  This means I don’t only have to fail myself but I fail them too.

Bummer.

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5 thoughts on “know what’s worse? This is something you’ve said so many times in the past…

  1. My parents have offered me private treatment before. Treatment that we can’t afford. It’s a tough call to make. I declined and am still stuck in the mire with the NHS but who’s to say that money would’ve bought me happiness?

    Thinking of you, sorry i haven’t got much in the way of advice or help to give. Take care x

  2. My parents already paid a lot for this other therapist – it was crap. It’s hard to even know what to expect when in my mind nothing will really work. But how to tell them that?

    And is it realism speaking or just plain old hopelessness?

  3. I’d be on it being hopelessness speaking. Sneaky bugger. Some therapists and psychiatrists just aren’t the right match. Just like some meds. I hope you find both that help you out more, or get the current people to, something to feel better.

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