Dark Forecast

Allow me to shed some light on Clinical Major Depression. No, it does not simply mean someone feels down or has a case of the blues. It is a life-altering condition that is one of the most misunderstood, dismissible diseases...

Gray skies are smiling at me. Seemingly mocking my emotions and goading me to continue feeling deflated. Like an airless balloon and no ability to rise above the nonsense and hurdles in life. I have no interest in anything and find it increasingly difficult to function at sea level just to get through the daily routine. Constant sadness, chronic fits of tears. You begin to cry yet have no idea what made you cry, which causes you to cry more.

Sleep denies me tonight. I toss and turn with terrible thoughts running amok in my head. Dark estimations of self worth I wish on no one, not even my arch nemesis, if I had one. But wait… I do have one. It is my own self. How ironic is that? When people say we are our own worst enemy they hit the depression nail on the head. Most people on the roster of disconsolates know what needs to be done to shake the blues, yet somehow, find it nearly impossible to take the steps. There is no drive to augment our emotional state because we feel hopeless and as though we deserve to stay miserable.

Depression hurts on so many levels. Lack of sleep or too much sleep. Sometimes I cannot get out of bed for the entire day and just want to remain in a dormant state and not wake up until the world will be a happy place for me. Loss of concentration and focus, procrastination due to lack of motivation, scatterbrained thoughts yet over analytical about the smallest of errors, aching bones, hair loss (even my eyelashes fall out), acne, nausea, low self esteem, overeating, constantly finding things you despise about your physical appearance, migraines, and emotions that change with a snap of the fingers. One minute you are laughing and the next you have to excuse yourself quickly because a bout of tears is threatening to erupt. People will think you are crazy.

The smallest of things irritate you. Even when you have a valid reason to be upset, you question your own justification. Am I being too sensitive? Or am I not caring enough? Did I overreact? Did I act accordingly, as a normal person would have? Furthermore, what defines normal? You become incapable of feeling joy for the simplest things you once took pleasure in. Casual friendships fade to black, you worry about everything, yet at the same time don’t care about anything, and then feel guilty for not caring. The vicious cycle continues infinitely.

When the mental skies become exceedingly gray, one becomes withdrawn. Guilt seeps through every pore. You deem yourself contemptible, worthless, undeserving, even pathetic, and feel guilty for bringing your dark forecast on the people surrounding you, so you withdraw. From life. Friends. Work. Loved ones. Even your own children. You convince yourself these people would be better off without you. Suicide? No, this is not an option for me. But perhaps if I moved far away to lands unknown and lived a life of self induced solitary confinement I would be doing the world a favor. I would not be bringing down those people around me who love and care about me.

More guilt. Why do I not appreciate all the love around me? All the things God has blessed me with? I have a loving family, a handful of friends who would do anything for me and vice-versa. My children are extremely intelligent, well rounded, polite, attractive, healthy, capable of emotion and show this by their genuine love for me. I have a home, a vehicle, food in the cupboards, cloths on my back, and even a canine companion who is my shadow. How would all these people be affected if I were to leave without word? I know I would never do this, but the evil thoughts still haunt my psyche.

Refuge? What is that? Where is that? How do I allow myself to decline to such a low level of significance? How is it that while I know I am loved and deserve to be loved and give love in return, yet I still feel empty? It resembles the sea-saw on a children’s playground. Up and down, back and forth. One minute I am on top and see things with such joy in my heart, the next I have my feet on the sand and see the world looking down at me with disgust. I stay on the ride because I know once again will be up high if I can just survive the lowness for a brief moment. I wish I knew why God put me on this sea-saw of life, why he didn’t simply allow me to be one of those happy-go-lucky kids who are happy pumping their legs on the swing, seemingly always aiming to higher.