Depression, It’s a Thing

It’s been a long, long time (I’m talking years) since I’ve felt this way. That nothing really matters, but I don’t really want to die, and that maybe a dark hole to hide in for a while would be a reeeeeeeeeally good idea. 

It’s like anxiety hiding, but I have no fear left and apathy is the main contender. 

So why do I feel like a deflated ballon that’s been cast aside? 

I kinda had a shitty conversation with my psychiatrist today and I can’t stop replaying it. 

You see, I’ve been missing a lot of work. I mean, A LOT. My job is super supportive but it’s gotten to the point where I have to basically go on temporary disability while I do my intense therapy and get through this ugly, ugly shit. 

And that requires a doctor’s note. 

Which means I called my psychiatrist. 

I actually really like him, he’s exceedingly thorough and doesn’t immediately jump to, “let’s drown you in drugs!”  

But he said something that really cut me to my core. When I explained the situation he said, “I don’t really understand what’s causing the anxiety.”

I kind of had an anxiety attack after we hung up.

 I sprialed. 

Because, I don’t really like talking about it. I don’t want to have people thinking I’m blaming or pointing fingers. 

I have insane fears that people will say, “oh that’s it? Geez, wtf” and I can’t get that out of my head. 

I’m sad. And I can’t turn it off. 


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