I woke up today at 5 am. I finally had a full night of sleep and full color dreams.
I was dreaming that I was in a medical mission that was at the same time a military mission, it required us to go through the jungle and avoid being shot. It is a long thing, but the thing that stands above all was how difficult it was to move. I didn’t realize I was dreaming, I just blamed my bad physical shape. I could barely breathe.
I woke up fine. It is a feeling I haven’t had in weeks. To feel “fine”. It is surprising especially after yesterday. Yesterday was a bad day in all ways. The climax of depression, the opposite perhaps. The suicidal thoughts racing through my head. The feeling that I had finally crossed an invisible line I had not crossed before. I cannot stand my own house. I made myself go out and see a friend. It made it all worse. I felt dead, non reactive, like someone could have beaten me to death with a stick and nothing would change (it is funny, almost). I thought about taking a bus and getting off it in a place where nobody could find me. I had so many ideas and the incipient urge of putting them all into practice. Disgust, apathy, loneliness, worthlessness, hopelessness, and my body wouldn’t even show it. I could not talk. I didn’t feel like I was in my body anymore. I was dissociating.
I did take a bus but after a 40 minute ride I decided against it. I was exhausted. I went back. I took half a pill of olanzapine and curled up in my bed instead.
I am still not sure it is all worth it.