Who the Hell Am I? I Am Depressed

Some days I feel frozen, I cannot motivate myself to get anything done. There is not a recognizable pattern to when these days occur, no specific event or person that sets it off. Still, it happens, and it happens often.

On those days, my entire existence is a struggle. It takes a massive amount of energy to pull myself out of bed. It is not that I feel too comfortable or relaxed in my warm bed, I feel unable to begin moving my body for the day. Once out of bed, getting showered and dressed is not hard. I do not like sitting around unshowered and unprepared. But once ready, the rest of the day begins to compound on itself.

The drive to work becomes an immense obstacle. With each mile down the road, I feel suffocated, while more energy is drained from me. That makes it difficult to produce results once I arrive to work. I feel lethargic and unmotivated. I sit at my desk and stare into space, hoping that I can find a spark of something to get my head where it is needed. Usually that does not work, and as I sit watching the day pass in extreme slowness, I feel guilty about not being productive. That guilt piles on my shoulders and makes it even harder to produce anything.

While I sit feeling crushed under the heaviness of my condition, my mind begins to think about other things that I could be doing. If I find one simple task to complete, it could help accomplish others. The possibilities add up in my head, there are a plethora of options. As the ideas continue to pile up, I feel like I am drowning under the weight of all the possibilities looming over me. With so much to do, I wonder how I can get any of it done. The panic builds up inside and prevents me from starting any of it. More guilt piles up on my shoulders.

Time ticks away, and I fill my day up with pointless tasks. I check email. I look at which coworkers are online. I stare at my phone screen. I change what music to listen to next.  None of it makes me feel any better, nor does it make the day go by any faster. I think about those moments in bed before I first forced myself up. I should have called in sick and stayed in bed. I would be getting nothing done, but at least I would not feel so bad. Scratch that. I would feel just as bad. I would think about the sick / vacation time that I was wasting. It could have been put to better use later on. More guilt. More weight.

Days like these are not fun. There is no enjoyment in feeling this way, in not accomplishing anything significant. It sucks. And it makes it hard to see any hope for tomorrow. I wonder if this will effect me for one day or carry on for more. The slightest things set me off. I am already miserable inside, it is not difficult to push my buttons and make that internal tension bubble to the surface. When it does, I feel more guilt, more weight, for the way I make those around me feel. The cycle is vicious. It tears down the beams that hold me upright. My insides feel like they are collapsing. My mind imagines my physical body doing the same.

Sometimes those around me can recognize that I am struggling. They do not understand what I am feeling inside. They think that words will help me feel better, will motivate me. Instead, it angers me that they think I can just flip a switch and be fine. And it adds to the weight. I cannot function like they can. I wonder why it is so much harder for me. I feel worse because I know I am letting others down with my actions (or inaction).

There is medication for this type of thing. But I do not like the idea of being on drugs, nor do I like the side effects associated with most pharmaceuticals these days. If I can recognize that there is this thing occurring in me, I wonder if it is the first step to being able to overcome it. I will continue to wonder as I experience days where it feels like a mountain is being placed atop me. On those days, I close my eyes and wish for it to be over. When I open my eyes, the day is still fresh and time drags on slower than ever.

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