Plethora of Suck

Spent two days functioning at sub basement level. Meaning, barely. Mood in the gutter, mind cluttered with every negative thought it could dredge up. It amazes me how my mind waits until I am on the precipice of complete breakdown…THEN it decides NOW is the perfect time to reflect on every failed relationship, every failed job, every wrong ever committed. And in an altered state, the damage is immense. I ended up in the fetal position under a blanket two straight nights because I literally couldn’t handle any more consciousness, any more of my own self torture.

Today has been better, though I think mostly due to the fact that if I survive this last day I can kiss the wretched year 2013 goodbye forever. People scoff and ask what I have to complain about, what happened that was so bad, it’s all in your attitude and how you look at it. Okay, well, even at my best I am CERTAIN having my home invaded and my shit stolen is a bad thing. Meds failing is a bad thing. Rampant anxiety and depression are bad things. Bad bad bad all year long for the most part. What happened to be happy about? Oh, right, I am still breathing, let’s have a parade for that miracle.

No one gets it. It’s about mental state because it adds to quality of life or lack thereof. If your mind is encased in darkness, sucking the joy even out of good things no matter how hard you are fighting it, well it tends to taint and color everything. I resent being labeled a pessimist. Because I’ve earned my pessimism by having more bad than good happen. Still, my outlook has been positively great even when waking up to find myself suddenly a single mom- because my mental state was not in this abysmal place. At the same time, I have had times when everything was awesome but the depression drained it all and it was all bad and would forever be bad.

Mental state.

Good riddance to 2013. May 2014 be better. I have no resolutions. I only want meds that work so I can survive. It seems modest yet so impossible a goal.

In my evil moments,I fantasize about mental illness being contagious. So I could just shake someone’s hand and let them take a walk in my world for a day or two. Let them finally see and ‘get it’. It’s mean and yet it’s realistic because until I can find people able to grasp the depth and severity of the illness…I am forever going to be resentful of being dismissed as this jumble of behavioral and personality problems. I have those, no doubt, but everything seems to start and end with the mental stuff I can’t get a grip on. Let my critics walk in my shoes a couple of miles. Maybe I will be more humane and not mock them and push them and make them feel like absolute pieces of shit.

Maybe not.

My mood is not great today. But my head seems clearer, the “you are a loser” thoughts have subsided. The anxiety is a quiet thrum. I have already done the functional facade thing. Get dressed, go out, wash dishes, cook lunch. Hollow little victories but victories just the same. Things others take for granted, things that are like climbing mountains when at war with your own mind, when your mind keeps telling you things are one way when they are another.My contrary mind.

Happy New Year.

I still want a new brain.

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One Response to “Plethora of Suck”

  1. There was this group session the other day, about ‘motivation’. The only thing was it was about motivation for the big things like going to uni etc. We didn’t talk about what to do when you lack the motivation for even the smallest most mundane activities, like showering and eating. Which is what I’m struggling with right now.
    So I may not have the magic wand, but I can empathise with you my darling.

    All my love, and a trucktonne of truffles.

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