it feels like the words i speak don't make any sense and they certainly don't match the constant coversation that is going on inside my head. i sound much smarter in my head and then when i open my mouth to have a conversation, or share an opinion or a thought,
i just feel jumbled and mumbled and stupid.
i can see why depression leads to isolation.
it feels like even though everything that is happening around me is bright and beautiful and amazing and blessed, it doesn't really make a difference.
there is a heaviness.
it's the blanket that gets spoken about in books and TV commercials regarding depression.
i recall hearing about this feeling of having a heavy wool blanket on top of you all the time
and it would feel dead weight and smothery.
turns out "they" were right.
and wet wool blankets are not only heavy. they are stinky too!
this depression of mine feels as though the days are soo long but also soo short because in my mind, i have accomplished nothing but in my body i have run a marathon.
how is it that walking up the stairs can feel like the hardest workout ever?
i never thought any of this were possible. it wouldn't happen to me. it can't really be that bad can it?
i am truly amazed at the rapid transformation that has overcome me and i am so ridiculously self aware and somewhat "educated" about such conditions that my inner dialogue is like a counselling appointment gone bad. or on speed. not sure which.
it sucks though.
did you know that food tastes flat. the sky looks flat. the ability to create art has all but disappeared, the sweet strawberries look so red and inviting but i can't really be bothered to try them.
this is not complaining.
it might sound a bit like it but honestly it is more a complete confusion and astonishment that this is what has happening to me. and i don't seem to be able to do anything about it.
there's another one of those stories i had only heard about and not really understood.
the inability to do anything about it. the need to let it run through and work its way out the other side.
i can positive self talk and rest and honour and be authentic about depression all i want but it would appear that until it has finished here, there is no leaving.
this suprises me.
surely i can talk, walk, pray, feed, medicate, journal or deep stretch my way out of this condition.
apparantly not because i am too tired and unmotivated to do any of those things.
i had to walk up the stairs this morning and am now done for the day!
oh life. you are teaching me so much.