I’ve got depression.
Who didn’t see this coming?
I didn’t. I thought I just had a problem with anxiety, and that this is just how I am. Or that it was an existential crisis. Well, it is how I am and it’s a problem. And it’s not just anxiety. It’s depression. The discovery was sudden and unexpected. I had thought that my problems were just petty angst, and that I would grow out of it, and that no this is not depression; I’m just depressed for a spell. When physical symptoms began to manifest themselves, I found that I was wrong.
It seems like I have many close friends who are bipolar. So I can understand part of them, and they can understand me quite well. I feel like this isn’t enough. I feel inadequate. They can support me, but it’s because my problem is petty and common and dull. For me, it’s the same every day. I’m depressed. It’s unipolar. I can’t support them, because their problem is complex.
There are so many books, memoirs, personal accounts of manic depressive disorder. I want a memoir of someone who is coping with depression so I can feel maybe a little bit less alone. I’m reading a memoir of a woman who has dealt for decades with manic depressive disorder. It’s intriguing, but it’s not me.
I can see why I can’t find many (any?) memoirs about depression though, because it’s so common and because it would be one boring book. When it’s really bad, I will am on the couch for hours and days at a time, not really wanting to eat anything, not really wanting to do anything. I don’t want to move. I find myself wondering when I will die and how I could die. I am tired all day and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be by myself. I am awake all night and I sleep all day. Sometimes, I get the urge to run or bike hard and fast, but it’s always at an inconvenient hour.
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