Halfway to work. Stomach twisting again. Nauseous again. I can't do this.
I came home again.
I've spent my life doing what needed to be done. Every time I was faced with a new problem, I'd figure a way through it. Sometimes the solutions were long and time-consuming. Sometimes the solutions were emotionally damaging. I found a way. Every time.
I can't do this is the heaviest piece of baggage that Depression brought with it. The inability to push through the problem. Being incapable of climbing the wall of doubt.
Facing another impossible ice wall on my climb up the mountain, I find myself looking for the top of it, and seeing it go on forever. Staying with the Mt Everest metaphor, I know it's an optical illusion. That the next plateau is closer than I think. But my mental hands are numb today, and can't hold on to the tools I have. My body is frozen, and I'm stuck.
The ongoing battle against Depression usually happens in my head. When the fighting gets intense, the Depression starts using chemical weapons against me. By firing off chemicals, the normal function of my body goes out of balance, and I get physically ill. I try and look at it as a good thing. It's proof I'm still fighting. Fighting really hard.
I can't do this. It pushes it's way out of every bad memory I have. It squirms out of mental lock-boxes. It oozes out of previous failures, and poisons my attempts at doing better. It's the mosquito in your bedroom late at night you can't find and squash. It's Persistent. Consistent. It simply whispers I can't do this ALL THE TIME. Eroding my confidence. Draining my energy. Eating me alive.
I will gain back lost ground. I will move forward. I will refocus. Make the incessant I can't do this quieter. I've been assured it will go silent eventually.
I want my brain back.
Derri.
I came home again.
I've spent my life doing what needed to be done. Every time I was faced with a new problem, I'd figure a way through it. Sometimes the solutions were long and time-consuming. Sometimes the solutions were emotionally damaging. I found a way. Every time.
I can't do this is the heaviest piece of baggage that Depression brought with it. The inability to push through the problem. Being incapable of climbing the wall of doubt.
Facing another impossible ice wall on my climb up the mountain, I find myself looking for the top of it, and seeing it go on forever. Staying with the Mt Everest metaphor, I know it's an optical illusion. That the next plateau is closer than I think. But my mental hands are numb today, and can't hold on to the tools I have. My body is frozen, and I'm stuck.
The ongoing battle against Depression usually happens in my head. When the fighting gets intense, the Depression starts using chemical weapons against me. By firing off chemicals, the normal function of my body goes out of balance, and I get physically ill. I try and look at it as a good thing. It's proof I'm still fighting. Fighting really hard.
I can't do this. It pushes it's way out of every bad memory I have. It squirms out of mental lock-boxes. It oozes out of previous failures, and poisons my attempts at doing better. It's the mosquito in your bedroom late at night you can't find and squash. It's Persistent. Consistent. It simply whispers I can't do this ALL THE TIME. Eroding my confidence. Draining my energy. Eating me alive.
I will gain back lost ground. I will move forward. I will refocus. Make the incessant I can't do this quieter. I've been assured it will go silent eventually.
I want my brain back.
Derri.
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