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  • Writer's picturecocodensmore

I'll bowl right over that shit if I have to.

August 5, 2023

It’s bad today.

It’s Saturday. I’ve not gotten dressed. I’ve spent the day trying to distract myself. I alternate watching movies, scrolling social media, and just succumbing to the sick and pain of the depression. But I can’t rest there in the sick and pain. It’s dangerous. I start sifting through ways to kill myself. And it’s really really dangerous. I go back to movies and social media. Social media just sucks my brain out, I can almost feel it. So, I’m trying to stick with movies.

Half the day I sat on the couch, just so I can be in the same room with someone, even though it’s mom. My chest hurts, it’s so painful, like the tightest band of pure pressure pain. I’m overwhelmed with this chest pain that isn’t even REAL and it feels like I’m going to just die sitting right there on the couch. Right in front of mom.

Tears run down my face, the silent ones. And I rock a bit, which is really weird to do and it must make me look like a schizophrenic. But sometimes rocking helps. Mom is oblivious. Thankfully. Or not. It’s best she’s clueless, I realize. She has no concept of what to do or say to make it better. If she acknowledged it, it would just make it worse, because I’d have to feel like I needed to hide it better. I took some Tylenol. It’s weird, but sometimes it helps.

I sift through my emotions, desperate to figure out why I’m feeling this way. And I can’t figure it out. There’s nothing. Nothing different, nothing special.

Sure, sometimes it crosses my mind David is out with his girlfriend. Oh, if you could only hear how that word sounds in my head! Pure disdain. There are pangs of hurt, stabs in my chest from thinking about David with his girlfriend. Oh goodness, how that word sounds in my head. Campy and over the top. It’s making me laugh, now. I really am very funny. Apparently, I like to put on a little comedy act for me, just for me, just inside of my head. And I’m good, I tell ya. I like it that I like myself enough that I want to make me laugh. That’s encouraging.

But when I do think of David, mostly I’m just so fucking relieved I don’t have to chase after a friendship connection with someone who checked out on the friendship weeks ago. It’s so much better to just not know. It really is.

I was thinking I might text him and tell him to let me know if he gets sick, if he goes to the hospital. Then I thought, fuck that. He’s got a girlfriend now (giggle). And then I thought about what if David dies. And that made me really said. But then no one would tell me. I’d never know.

I’m sure his sister-in-law will tell him how good it is that we broke up, that there was always something she didn’t like about me. (Probably my authenticity.) And it stings to think she will think poorly of me. But so what. Really. It’s all made up in my mind. I’ll never know what she actually says about me. And I realize, it’s so much better to just not know.

So, I go down that sad path and it sounds like this particular episode of extremely scary depression is all about David. And when I ask myself if it’s David, I can honestly say although the David situation sucks, the breakup is not the cause. I keep coming around to the cause of massive massive massive caregiver burnout. That’s a very plausible cause. Ya.

I’m so annoyed with myself for having this depression threaten to push right into my first assignment, an essay due Thursday. I haven’t been able to read the book, although I’m halfway through. I feel like I’m procrastinating. But I’m not, really. It will take me a couple of hours to write the essay, if that. I know what I’m going to say. I’ve been writing it in my head for over a week now. When I sit down to write, it will come right out. That doesn’t mean I should wait until the last minute, but I know I won’t do that. I don’t do that. I’m a planner.

Even in the midst of this extremely scary depressive episode, I’m still plotting and planning to ensure my academic success. I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to let anything get in the way of my studies. Not even my fucked up brain chemistry. I’ll bowl right over that shit if I have to. My resolve is very encouraging. I like that I fight so hard for me. That’s such a good thing I do.

I’m in the office watching a movie on my laptop. Mom just brought me some popcorn. That is a nice thing she did. My mom loves me. That is a nice thing. I love her too; I just don’t feel it very much very often. That’s sad. But there’s no doubt I’m doing my best. I know that at least.

I Persevere. And life goes on.



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