It's back. Depression has its desperate claws edged on the tip of my soul. I can feel its dripping maw near my neck and it makes it difficult to breathe. It encircles me and gags me and I try to accept that it's there and acceptance is futile. During my good times I think I have accepted the fact that I have depression. When it comes to remind me that I have it, the overwhelming feeling of "Again?" rushes my senses and I am quieted.
I have felt it all week. I tried to pretend that it wasn't there. I tried to do things. Instead I have slept. A lot. I am always embarrassed to admit this. Horribly embarrassed.
I missed work. Quite a bit of it.
Today I was finally able to get myself out of the house and met a friend from high school. We recently reunited. It was wonderful to see her. Though it was very nice to spend time with her, I grew tired. I literally yawned. Several times. She even noticed and commented. I yawned even though I've slept most of the week. When I wasn't asleep I tried to pretend that I was fine. I was merely having some type of strange, extended vacation that I never requested beforehand. Though I slept all day, every day this past week, when my daughter got home from school I would wake up and act like I had been working from home all day. I was in my pajamas. I hadn't brushed my teeth yet. My hair was disheveled. I don't know if she believed me. Monday and Tuesday she asked why I was home. I lied and told her that I worked from home. For the rest of the week she didn't ask anymore. She's a smart girl. I'm sure that she realizes.
My work thinks that I had strep and stomach problems. I hate lying like that.
In this economy and also considering that I am a contractor, I am worried about losing my job. They already have a hiring freeze on software developers. They are flying contractors from India by the plane load and paying them nothing while giving them apartments where they shack up four and five to a two-bedroom apartment. They have no car and walk back and forth to work and the grocery store. They have no life. They are happy to be here. They are hard workers. They get paid next to nothing. I can easily be replaced. The company would save money. I don't know why they haven't done it already. It does disgust me though because these highly intelligent people from India are trying to find their American Dream and are being paid next to nothing. They need to be paid like everyone else, if not more because they work so very hard.
I have not worked hard this past week. I slept hard. When I was awake and acting like I was working from home I was reading other people's blogs until my eyes closed. I tried to blog and act like everything was OK. It hasn't been. Why do I act like everything is OK on my blog when this is the place where I can say exactly how I feel and not worry about it? I have thought about that and think it's because if I talk about my bad moments in those bad moments I have to accept that I have major and chronic depression. I can't run away from that fact and I certainly can't hide because depression always finds me.
I seriously cannot imagine being like this for the rest of my life. Typing that sentence makes me cry. How do people live like this? Will it ever get better? I have had depression my entire life, yet I have to say it gets worse with age. Not better. Worse. Worse and more worse. It is overwhelming to think about.
It is times like this that I truly want to die. Would I call that being suicidal? Not really because I'm not acting on it. Is it life that I want to end? Yes, if life is like this. I also realize on a rational level that I will get better again, it doesn't rain all day every day and I will not want to end my life when the sun peeks out to shine on my day. Like all people who think about suicide, I just want to end the pain and despair. It becomes all too much at times.
If I wasn't for my daughter I know that I wouldn't be here. I would be dead. She keeps me going when I cannot. She doesn't realize this and she should never realize this, but it's just the truth.
1 day ago