Interrupted

My Life Thus Far
2017-01-19 23:32:42 (UTC)

Depression Doesn't Give A Shit

If only there was a profound way to fully describe what depression feels like to someone who's never experienced it. Despite being in a place that I would consider good (life isn't perfect, but it never is. Never will be), I can't recall a time I've felt quite as ambivalent about life as I do right now. A little more each day, in fact. In my mind, I can't see a life beyond maybe late spring/early summer. I've released any hopes and dreams I may have had about the distant future. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it that far. This isn't me being cryptic or even suicidal per se. I have no plans of killing myself (despite how often I think about it, I've yet to hatch a plan I'm willing to commit to). This is me trying to share how bleak and desolate depression feels. I'm not even sad. There's just this deep pit of nothingness. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. Literally. I don't care about anything. At all. It's peaceful to an extent. I could sleep for ever. Walk into the woods and never come out. Hope in my car and disappear forever. Nothing about my current life compels me. Even the knowledge that my kids would be devastated if I died or left them. Snookums would be, too. My rational brain gets all that, but depression doesn't give a shit. About any of that. Each day I commit to that day. Just one day. I've made it through this one. And tomorrow I'll commit to another day. I'll continue to do this until I can't. This is my plan for getting through life. Just one more day. I'll try again tomorrow.


The weather forecast called for rain all day, but I took a chance and went in the woods anyway. It worked out in my favor, too. I hiked 3.44 miles in Grand Forest West and Grand Forest East (on Bainbridge Island) before the rain set in. Grand Forest is a little slice of old growth forest in the middle of developed Bainbridge Island, so it's not like I went on an intrepid adventure, but it was still better than laying in bed all day watching tv. Or scrolling the internet. I found a few mushrooms to photograph, which was neat. With the weather being so cold, the mushrooms had all but disappeared. Now that our quintessential mild temps and pervasive drizzle are back, so are the mushrooms. I don't know what it is about them I love so much, I just do. They're cool.

Why I don't know, but as I was heading towards home after my hike, I felt an overwhelming desire to see Snookums. I'd had no plans of driving into Silverdale today, but I did solely just to go see him at work. As much as I complain about him, he is my rock. The love of my life. And I turn to him when I'm feeling unsafe, vulnerable, and I very much am right now. I don't feel like myself at all, and I need him to remind me why I'm here, and why I need to stay here. He's trying. Bless him and his love for me.




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