Depression. Depression is a fickle bitch. It was about a year ago that I recognized that I was dealing with it. It's only been recently that I've begun to understand what that really means. It's one lie after another. If you begin to doubt the lies, your doubt becomes the lie. Some how, my logical side has remained unaffected. It's both a blessing and a curse. The logical side is void of emotions, I can see things clearer, I can see the truth. The blessing is that it allows me to see the truth, the curse is that there are no emotions. If I start to let the emotions out, the depression takes over. I doubt myself, my abilities, and the ability for others to care for me. I'm not worth their love. Their days will be better without me. I hide in my own solitude. Fight the desire to run away for a while. The will to do anything productive is gone.
For a while though, when everything was going down hill, my defense was to bury myself in work and school. I worked, I went to school, and I worked more. All day, every day, 7 days a week. If I wasn't at work or school, I was in bed.
School ended, and that go, go, go life that I was living came to a screeching halt. I was no longer being consumed by it and the depression came rushing in. Emotionally, I freaked the fuck out. I didn't know how to deal with it all. I shut down. I shut everything that I could down. The lies started. I was unworthy. I had no friends. I had no one that I could turn to. My friend, my lover, my wife, my confidante had turned her back on me. After almost 17 years, she no longer loved me, would no longer love me. If I didn't deserve her love, how could I expect anyone else to love me. I was quickly spiraling down into a bottomless pit of despair. It really hit home one day when I made a comment to my daughter that no one would miss me.
At some point, the logical side of my brain woke up and took over for a bit and I was able to see things clearly. I could see through the lies. I knew them to be lies. I knew that I do in fact have friends and that they love me, and I knew that I love them. And I also knew that I had done all of them wrong by not telling them what I was going through. I hadn't trusted in them when they had trusted me.
Obviously, the logic side doesn't take over forever. I had to face my emotions again. When I did, I felt horrible about myself. I had betrayed the trust of my friends by not telling them. Over time, I mustered up my nerve, one by one and confessed. I was greeted with warm and open hearts each time.
All of these things does not by any means stop the depression from lying to me. It doesn't stop me from falling into its trap and believing those lies. But, it's not as strong as it once was. It's easier for me to take a step back and hold on to the fact that they are lies, even when they don't feel like it.
I have a very hard time feeling anything but the bad feelings. Telling my best friends that I love them feels empty in my heart. But, I know now, that the love is real even if I'm not able to feel it. I have friends. I will be able to love again, I just have some work that I need to do. I need to allow the feelings out, and let them wash me clean. I need to mourn the loss of love that I had for my wife and the loss of the love that she had for me. I am not worthless, I am not hopeless.