depression, what depression feels like, mental health blogger, mental health blog, mental illness, this stuff is golden,

A Conversation With Depression

Trigger warning: depression, suicidal thoughts, self-hate.

It’s morning, time to notice me!

Ugh, I thought you might go away if I went to bed and woke up fresh in the morning.

Nope, unless you sleep forever, which you know, wouldn’t be a bad thing. It’s not like you have much of a life. Maybe you should just stay in bed?

I can’t though. I have my daughter.

Ugh yeah, what a mistake that was – you’re not good enough to be a mother. Well let’s just do the bare minimum today then. Not like you have any money to do anything with, not even a car to escape this tiny village. 

I could take the bus-

Buses cost money. You want to go on a bus to town to not spend any money? What’s the point in that? 

Ugh, I dunno. I should shower.

But you don’t want to shower. Showering is so much effort. It means you’ve got to make decisions about what to wear, and why bother with that? You don’t have any wear to go, you have no value, you might as well stay in pyjamas. 

I guess, but I want to feel clean at least.

Eh, you’ll be sorry if you get in that shower.

No I won’t, it’s good self-care.

Showering is basic. You are doing bare minimum, just like you always do, just like you always will. Don’t say I didn’t warn you-

-in the shower-

Now I don’t want to get out of the shower, because it means getting dressed.

Ha! Told you that you would regret getting in the shower. Now you have to dress yourself AND brush your hair AND decide on wearing make-up or not. Just get back into bed wearing your towel and give in.

No I’ve gotta get dressed at least so I can look after my daughter.

Ugh fine. Wear the same jogger bottoms from yesterday and the day before, put on a baggy t-shirt you use for sleeping in and a baggy jumper, don’t bother with make-up obviously because you’ll probably just ruin it later with tears. And your hair? I mean, you haven’t washed it again so might be time to just look ugly and scrape it all back in a bun. 

Fine. Ugh I look so hideous. I feel disgusting.

Might as well look the way you feel. You won’t be able to pull off anything better than this, I mean, look at your shitty life. What we gonna do, go to the park today? Put the TV on? Do the dishes? You don’t need to look nice for any of that. 

I guess so. I wish I could have something to do and somewhere to be, so that I could dress up every now and again and actually feel worth something.

Yeah but you don’t do you. And you never will. This is your life for the rest of your life, for however long that is. The rate you are going you’ll die early anyway. Shame for your daughter’s sake but shit happens.

Stop talking at me I can’t listen to this all the time.

No really, you won’t last. You’re not even doing the things you like at the moment. You have no joy, and the joy you do have, you fake. Your body is weak and getting weaker. And you’re not exercising enough so you’re getting fat! Your hips and knees will get weaker and you know how fragile they already feel. You’re going to be a broken person in a broken body. Those wrist pains will eventually turn into broken bones, and one day you’ll find it physically impossible to do the creative things that you are avoiding right now. When was the last time you wrote something good? When will you ever write something that you get an income from? Never. Because you’re not good enough to put yourself out there. Nobody sees value in you because you have none. You can’t even reply to emails anymore. You are so lazy. You will never have a job, you will always struggle financially. Your daughter will come to resent you for giving her a shit start to life. You will die early, and not by your own hand because you’re too scared of it going wrong, whatever that means. You will suffer. The people around you will watch you become sicker and weaker. They will wish for your death to be released from the burden that is you. 

So what do I do?

Do what you always do. Nothing. And I’ll stick it out with you, being the only honest voice you have. Your friends lie to you, they feel sorry for you, that’s why they tell you nice things. They tell you that you’re ‘strong’ and ‘worthy’ because they don’t want you to die because they don’t want to feel bad about not being there for you. But you will always be sad, you know they don’t really see any worth to you. They’re just saying it to be nice. I am the only one that will tell you the truth. 

It feels like you will never, ever go away. Not even medication will shut you up anymore.

Remember what happened last time you upped the dosage? You were a wreck!

I guess I should go back to the doctor, ask for his advice on what to do.

No way! Remember how embarrassed you were last time? He’s not going to say anything new, there are no cures, there’s nothing he can do for you. 

At least I’ve got my counselling sessions.

Only 5 left until they have to give your spot to somebody else on the waiting list. Somebody who probably deserves it way more than you! I mean, you’re just a loser who has never figured out life right. Other people actually have real problems that they need help with. You on the other hand made all your own mess. 

I’m gonna be so sad when those sessions run out. is it really only 5 left?

Yup. And then you can’t even apply again until another 6 months has passed. Who knows where you’ll be at the point? Probably in an even shittier situation than right now.

Everything is so fucking bleak. I better go see to my daughter. I don’t know how I will entertain her today.

Time to be a shit mum and stick the TV on whilst numbing yourself by scrolling through Instagram. Your daughter deserves so, so much better than you. 

I know.


I appreciate any concern you have but:

I’m not saying this to be disrespectful but please don’t send me any emails or long comments about how this too shall pass or anything like that, I’m not posting this to get anything in return, I’m just posting it because it’s how I feel.

I don’t think I’m in the right head-space for advice right now.

My CBT therapist from over a decade ago once said to me that my thoughts are in a triangle shape, and if anybody says anything nice about me, I see those compliments as square shapes – they just don’t fit in my mental space and I reject them, or turn them into triangle shapes so that they do fit my thought patterns.

That’s where I am at right now. But you know, don’t send me triangle shapes either because I have enough of those in my head for a lifetime.

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