Every day feels like a battle. I have to will my body to do anything. Today I lay in bed for a good hour debating whether it was worth doing something about my stomach growling. Stuff like that.
I'm not sure how it got this bad. Things were good for a while. I was on Zoloft, I was feeling more confident. I was able to articulate what I wanted and I was able to be kind and patient. And then it all started falling apart again. I started reverting.
My depression has not been this bad for over a year, when I first started taking Zoloft. I've even done an increase in dose but nothing's really happened yet. The worst thing of course is that my life is not that awful, just... filled with nothing. I don't do anything with my day. I don't work toward any goals. I feel like nothing and nobody. My friends are there, and I know this logically, but not emotionally. They never seem to be there enough. I don't think it's humanly possible.
Today I looked up BPD and realized that I fit almost all of the symptoms eerily well. Rather than make me feel any more in control of anything, or hopeful that a different treatment might help me cope better, I just feel like I slid another dozen feet into this pit. I might never be able to climb out.
All days aren't bad. Sometimes I can actually appreciate what's going on around me, sometimes I can have fun, sometimes what I have at the moment is enough. But when I am not appreciative, when I am deep in one of these funks, it hits me with excruciating awful clarity that it isn't enough. That living for the few bright times in my life is not enough of a carrot for me to chase. And that's when things get scary. That's when my mind starts racing with anxiety and my head feels like it's going to explode from all the crazy and that's when I realize I'm not getting better.
There are situational things that have triggered me recently into this depressive state, sure. But even if these situational things resolve, which I don't think they will, they are built on patterns. These patterns have been repeating my entire life. I push people away and then I feel bitterly lonely. I expect constant adoration and attention or else I feel abandoned. I can't have a superficial relationship because at one point or another I can't hold the crazy in, I need to be understood. I need to be loved. And I need to feel like I really matter in someone's life. I don't want to be someone's superficial friend either.
I get angry, and despairing, and nihilistic and then that emotion pours outward because if I keep it to myself I will lose it completely. People accuse me of being aggressive, not seeing that what I'm really doing is beating myself to a pulp. Beating life to a pulp. Telling them to look at me, just bloody look at me, and understand that right now I am in mental anguish, that I don't expect them to fix it but I need them to listen. I need someone to get it. Because if nobody gets it I'm invisible. It's just one more part of me that screams into a void, or is swept under the rug, and I have to deal with it alone. It's killing me.