Day 0178

I’ve been trying for years now to explain what depression feels like at its worst. It’s a hard thing to be eloquent about. People try so hard to understand but I suppose like anything it is terribly individual.

The closest I’ve come is to describe it as a ‘head too full’ feeling where my brain is just SO FULL I can’t make out any of the screaming strands of thought: they are all just combined in a horrific mass pushing at the inside of my head, trying to break out of my skull.

And yet at the same time I feel absolutely empty; like there would barely be a puff of dust if someone managed to crack through my very thin, crisp outer coating. Crack! And I would disappear entirely.

If only it were that easy.

Days 0132 & 0133

I feel querulous. What does one do when faced with a male who appears to want nothing more than to enjoy one’s company? And who genuinely appears to find the myriad thoughts bazinging around my head interesting?

When I move out of this gentle company I feel utterly confused by the pleasantness of the experience. It unbalances me.

My reaction is not to trust the gut feeling of calm and to start parsing it down, start finding the hidden motivation behind this or that statement. I am working hard not to do that.

It is more than a little disappointing to realise years of bracing for someone to explode with rage at something ‘thoughtless’ or ‘stupid’ or ‘unsophisticated’ I have unknowingly and unintentionally done have set me up to be afraid to relax and just be Me.