For several days, almost weeks now, I feel like I've been fighting off a big depression. Like an ache in the back of my heart, a slowness that sinks to my bones. I've been telling myself over and over that I can fight it off and keep it at bay and it doesn't have to come. I keep telling myself that if I deny it then it will be gone in the morning.
This morning I woke up filled with trepidation. I felt like I was forgetting something, there was something to be done. I got up from bed, looked around the room, searched my brain for what it was. Nothing came up. I felt strangely empty. Clear, empty, alone, and without a task.
All night long I had dreams about Chinese Re-education and burying books in suitcases and swimming.
All day long I've had these sinking feelings that I can't shake. My stomach has a hollow sort of pain. My throat is closing and makes it hard to breathe. Am I filled with anxiety because of this or is this caused by my anxiety?
This beast looking to swallow me whole is catching up. My feet falter in their escape. I couldn't run forever.
Every breathe causes an extra ache in my chest and that desperation begins to filter through my mind. I need something to stop this, I need something to soak this spilling mess. It's dripping from the back of my head into the front. It's soaking into my neck, my arms, my legs, into the tips of my hair. I'm floundering. I'm frantically seeking something to stop the spread. I can't let this depression wet me. I can't let it sink in. And I'm fighting it so hard that I'm causing further harm in the process.
I'm hoping someone can see, someone can hear, someone knows my call and answers back and saves me and saves me and saves me from whatever's taking over. I'm making calls and checking lists and sending messages. Anything, anything, anything, anyone. I just want want someone to stop this because I can't do it on my own.
But I have to do it on my own. And I'm tiring. And I have to remind myself that no matter how weary I grow, no matter what weighs me down, sinking isn't an option. Rather than give me hope, this disheartens me.
It's 3 o'clock and I have to keep it together for at least two more hours. When I think no one is looking I put my head down on my desk and I cry. I know this sounds melodramatic. It is melodramatic.
I'm just lost is all.
This morning I woke up filled with trepidation. I felt like I was forgetting something, there was something to be done. I got up from bed, looked around the room, searched my brain for what it was. Nothing came up. I felt strangely empty. Clear, empty, alone, and without a task.
All night long I had dreams about Chinese Re-education and burying books in suitcases and swimming.
All day long I've had these sinking feelings that I can't shake. My stomach has a hollow sort of pain. My throat is closing and makes it hard to breathe. Am I filled with anxiety because of this or is this caused by my anxiety?
This beast looking to swallow me whole is catching up. My feet falter in their escape. I couldn't run forever.
Every breathe causes an extra ache in my chest and that desperation begins to filter through my mind. I need something to stop this, I need something to soak this spilling mess. It's dripping from the back of my head into the front. It's soaking into my neck, my arms, my legs, into the tips of my hair. I'm floundering. I'm frantically seeking something to stop the spread. I can't let this depression wet me. I can't let it sink in. And I'm fighting it so hard that I'm causing further harm in the process.
I'm hoping someone can see, someone can hear, someone knows my call and answers back and saves me and saves me and saves me from whatever's taking over. I'm making calls and checking lists and sending messages. Anything, anything, anything, anyone. I just want want someone to stop this because I can't do it on my own.
But I have to do it on my own. And I'm tiring. And I have to remind myself that no matter how weary I grow, no matter what weighs me down, sinking isn't an option. Rather than give me hope, this disheartens me.
It's 3 o'clock and I have to keep it together for at least two more hours. When I think no one is looking I put my head down on my desk and I cry. I know this sounds melodramatic. It is melodramatic.
I'm just lost is all.
