I have done it again, I have let my brain win. I had plans today, plans to get out of bed, plans to see my friends, plans to do some cleaning, maybe a bit of writing. But so far all I have done is lie in bed and eat cookies. This might sound like a perfect day to some people, but as my only day off this week I didn’t really want to spend it in a dark pit of despair. I guess calling my bed a dark pit of despair is quite fitting seeing as all of my bed linens are black (a colour choice to contrast the bright red of my room) at 4am I made a decision to move my pillows to the opposite end of my bed and sleep this way from now on. It’s weird that I have found this change comforting because I hate change.
It’s raining today, it hasn’t rained properly for a long time, now it won’t stop, the stereotypes of England are true. It rains a lot. But it was needed I hate the stupid humid weather we have had recently, even though the temperature has dropped dramatically I am sleeping with a fan directly in front of my face, I also have all three of my bedroom windows wide open, (pretty much constantly) which is probably why I have such a strange immune system.
I’m struggling to motivate myself to write today, I don’t know what to talk about. Yesterday whilst sitting on the floor my brain spun its roulette wheel of problems and landed on one of my favourites “blame” it, then recounted to me all the things I blame myself for, which then lead on to a rousing montage of things I feel guilty about. Which in turn made me cry, which made me angry at myself and which made me decide that when I got home (4 hours later) I was gong to teach myself a lesson by scoring a nice line down some part of my body in protest of my brains arbitrary games. Unfortunately, my brother called me after I had finished work and I met him and went home. This stopped my punishment plans which is debatably a good thing I assume.
So here I am lying in bed, plans cancelled for the day. I have made up excuses every time someone has asked to meet me this week. I’m not feeling social interaction now, my brain is not obeying me and it is definitely not after the social conventions of being a regular human being at the moment. Today is probably the worst day I have had this week, although again, that’s considerably debatable no thoughts of self harm now, but my inability to crawl out of my bed is not clarifying that I am any better than I was yesterday, if anything this failure to move is once again showing a huge step backward. It seem I put one foot forward and end up 30 yards back recently.
Maybe what I should talk about is how I am still dwelling on the roulette wheels decision yesterday. Blame. There are many things in my life that I blame myself for, many of these things people tell me are not my fault. But, what my body does is something that I surely can control? After all it is “my” body, isn’t it? I choose what I eat, I choose when I sleep, I choose what pills I let travel down my oesophagus. So, surely, the blame I hold over myself for things that have happened to me are my fault? A long time ago I realised that sometimes agreeing with people was easier than arguing your point. People tell me “it’s not your fault this happened” often, I agree with them because I no longer have the mental capacity to argue my point. I can’t change how I feel about certain things, and that’s probably not ok, but unfortunately it is the way it is.
I mentioned how the blame thoughts led to a guilt montage, I feel guilty about a lot of silly things that are each their own 1000 word piece. It would be fruitless to even include a snapshot of these as I would need to explain further and it would be too much to write, now.
I think its normal to feel guilty, guilt is an emotion that people feel frequently. Blame is attached to this feeling for me. I seem to see myself as some form of grim reaper bringing death. I just said I wouldn’t do this, but my biggest feelings of guilt come from a teenage inability to think bad things will happen. A lot of people have died suddenly in my life, I feel guilty that I didn’t spend time with these people, they probably didn’t even know I cared about them. What a terrifying prospect. The list of people who have died suddenly in my life is not a short one, but of them all I truly hope my grandfather (non-biological) knew that regardless of typical family institutions and ideals, I saw him as a grandfather, even if we didn’t call him granddad.
I have already said too much on a subject I should save for another day. What I have discovered today is that sometimes on the days when I have the least motivation, one little thing can spawn a whole list of topics I can write about to further discover the extent and the toll of the damage my depression has done to me and to use that pain to do the one thing that makes me happy. Making sure everyone else is happy, whether I like them or not.
The Elephant in the Room