Dirty Little Word…
Depression. It’s an ugly, heavy, son of a bitch. It comes at the worst of times, over welcomes its stay, and leaves a mess. It screws with your mind. It messes with your emotions. In the real world, to everyone else, it makes you look like the fool.
I’ve been dealing with it for years, but I’m currently in my worst bout ever. Its been months. Months of faking smiles. Months of pretending everything is peachy keen. Its also months of crying all the time. The crying is the worst. Its like a tell. You can be mentally raging inside, and no one will see it. But when you’re so miserable that tears just spontaneously start rolling – and you can’t control it – it’s mortifying.
When you’re depressed and you hate your job, it’s match made in hell. Everyday I wake up thinking “I just don’t want this anymore”, but still the shower turns on and reluctantly I hop in. Trying find a new job isn’t any easier either. When you’re resume looks like shit, and you don’t know what you want to do with your life, your outlook is pretty bleak on the situation. Depression can also kill your motivation with school, let me tell ya. I’m so close to the end, but failing is so easy.
Weekends are the best when I’m depressed, too (sarcasm major here). For months I’ve done nothing outside of work except lay in bed and watch TV. I go to my obligatory bowling night every Thursday, but that’s because I have to. I also occasionally go out with my friends if they bug me enough. But that’s it. I don’t enjoy any of the things I used to – reading, riding around, listening to music, going out with my friends.
One of the worst culprits that make depression worse? Facebook. Instagram. Anything that portrays people having their shit together. It kills me inside. Everyone so happy with their perfect significant others, perfect houses, perfect lives. I know in reality it’s not really like that. But when you see it all the time, it gets to you. Yet, I can’t stop looking at it. Or wanting it myself.
Most people don’t understand depression. I get a lot of “Whats the matter with you?” or “Just get up already” from people at home. I get a lot of “Are you mad at me?” or “Did I do something?” from friends. I wish people understood what depression really is. It’s body aches all the time. It’s me not wanting to be here anymore. It’s me not wanting to talk about how I feel. It’s me not wanting to talk, period.
Depression is a no good, very bad, son of a bitch.