grey

Hi lovelies. This is one of those posts where I'm not in therapy so I'm writing instead. Feel free to skip right over this bleakness.





I feel like I want to scream and rage at the top of my lungs. All the time. "I'M NOT OKAY! HOW CAN NOBODY TELL! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

It feels like that's what's in my head, overpowering all other thoughts, all of the time. All. Of. The. Time.

I think I'm depressed.

My depression presents as irritability. I forget this and then am surprised when I realize that the fact that I've been pissed off at every single thing, living and non-living for months actually means I'm depressed, not just hateful. I mean, yes, I also have no motivation to do anything and nothing gives me much pleasure at the moment other than the thought of being alone in my apartment with my Roku, and every single solitary action I take feels exhausting and useless and pointless, but mostly I just hate everything.

So the fact that I'm wondering if I should just end my relationship because being around anyone makes me annoyed and I just want to be left the hell alone is probably my depression. The fact that I am constantly wondering what the point is of any of this, why do I have to do any of this when I'm just so fucking tired all the time, can't I just not? is probably my depression. The fact that I'm asking myself if maybe relationships and connection just aren't for me, because it all feels so impinging and pointy and unpleasant and hard and I'm not interested and don't want any of it thank you very much, is probably my depression. That I look ahead and see nothing working out, nothing being fun, nothing being enjoyable, never feeling free, is probably my depression.

Right.

It doesn't mean that everything actually is terrible, that I should be alone, that I should push everyone away. This is a lens that is making the world seem grey and pointless. That's not the truth?

Right.

Okay...

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