i need some distraction, oh beautiful release

i hate how i'm feeling lately.
i don't know that it's depression. i'm not sad. i'm not sad, no, not really. sadness isn't the quite the right word.  i mean yeah, i feel overwhelming sadness some days but it's not the overarching feeling. it's not the primary feeling. it's not the main thing i feel.
apathy? sure, i've given up caring about cleaning (really need to do that, my area of the apartment is godawful) and i've given up caring about life, the future, what happens to me. i have hopes and dreams but who am i fooling? they'll never happen. my health will never improve to the point where i'm able to hold down a job. i can barely handle school, what kind of idiot am i to think that i'll be able to have a future?
then, what? hopeless? i guess you could say that, but i don't even know if it's the right word. sad? depressed? none of these words seem quite right. lonely? scared? overwhelmed? i don't even know what words describe me anymore. if there are words. if there are any words.
i'm scared to see a doctor, scared to be honest. scared to let people see how things really are. what if they judge me? what if they don't like me? what if they can't help me? so instead, i let myself spiral.
i let the anxiety take over. i let the fear take over. i let the what-ifs take over.  when talking, face-to-face talking, i either lock down or i've been dealing with this stuff for so long that i've learned how to mask it, learned how to downplay it, so things aren't really as bad as i realize. i tend to downplay things and let them go into they are super sonic bad... case in point, recent ear infection.
i feel scared and helpless and alone and like a failure.
and this emptiness. and despair. and the feeling that i will never pull myself out.
i know i'm not fooling everyone, that would be naive. but why do i try? why don't i give people a chance? it's like i've been hurt and hurt and hurt so i'm scared to show the truth.
will they love me less? doubtful. so why do i let myself believe such things? why don't i just trust? why am i so scared?
why do i feel like falling into self injury? and i'm not suicidal, but i'll be damned if i don't think about death. if i don't think about a break from the mental and physical pain. i know it's not an option, but damn if it doesn't come to mind.
i hate feeling like this. i hate feeling that things will never get better. because... what if that feeling is right?


But people have problems that are worse than mine, I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time

I feel I'm on the verge of another depressive spell, and it sucks. Likely triggered by all the back to school posts. No back to school for me. Nope. No job, one class, just stuck in the same monotony. I'm entering physical therapy, trying to get a grasp on my physical pain, and my mental health? THAT'S a frick-fracking joke and a half.

I have a script for Effexor across the room, from a useless appointment with a psychiatrist. From one who pushed me for details about my PTSD, why I haven't had sexual relations, wouldn't listen to my past medical history (she tried to put me on Prozac when I told her no less than five minutes previously that Prozac had made me worse), etc. For this week at least, I've made the choice to stay  off antidepressants, though it doesn't mean it's set it stone and I won't at some point hunt for a new psychiatrist. But there's a part of me, this twisted, demented part of me, that's tempted to fill the Effexor script and take it in an act of self-sabotage. Even though I know that since it's in the class as Cymbalta it's a really stupid idea, and even though I know it'll jack with my heart rate, it's the irrational, self-injuring part of my brain. Even though I know I'll likely have side effects from it, even though I know things will spiral further out of control, it's so tempting just to completely throw the towel in and screw things up. I hate how twisted my brain is at times.

My eating has gone to crap. Most days? I'm lucky to get one meal in and enough fluids. Some days? No eating happens. My weight is dropping again and I'm finding it hard to care. I'm coming close to cutting again and this is preventing me from it. I don't want to cut and I don't want to not eat, but right now I just need some way to hurt myself to control my depression. I am in such a bad state, aren't I? I'm not suicidal. That's not a problem at all. But if hurting myself keeps me alive for now... I just don't even know at the moment.

I feel like I'm crumbling. I feel like I'm tumbling. I feel like I am falling to shreds. I hate who I am. I hate who I am becoming. I hate how I feel. And I am so helpless. I feel beyond hopeless. I'm at the point where I don't know if things will ever get better. How can they? So many antidepressants have failed. Maybe I'm destined to be a failure. Maybe things will never get better. Maybe I'll just fall to pieces and there won't be a way to duck tape me back together.

I hate how I let myself fall this low. I hate how I feel like I'm crumbling to pieces. I need a break. I need a vacation. I need out for awhile. I need to go somewhere that's not here. Somewhere away. If I don't fall apart before then. If I don't fall to pieces. I hate how depression is. I hate how my depression makes me irrational and want to make irrational decisions. I hate how it makes my brain all foggy, like I'm seeing through mashed potato covered lenses instead of clear ones. I hate how it makes me feel.

I don't like what I'm becoming. I don't like who I am. I hate how when I talk to therapists and doctors that I just lock down. I retreat within myself. It's safe in there. It's scary and dark, but it's comfortable and familiar, even though it's a terrifying place. Because even though it's dark and scary - it is what I know and so there I stay. I don't lock down on purpose, and then the doctor gets pissed off that I don't talk to them when it isn't that I don't want to, it's that I can't. The words and feelings are completely locked and trapped inside me and I can't pull them out. I want to talk, but it's so hard. It isn't easy. And I feel so trapped. I feel so trapped within myself.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm becoming. All I know is I'm falling... falling... falling...


you give and take away...

I haven't written in awhile, so midnight while watching Soul Eater is the perfectly logical choice, right? Of course. As I'm curled up here in bed, wishing my summer had taken an incredibly different term, the start of school just days away (f I can afford it, but that's another rant for another day), not knowing how my life is going to play out, it's sort of terrifying watching where my life is going.

On July 9, I had repeat back surgery, this time to do a partial hardware removal. Things were expected to be fairly uncomplicated. Two day hospital stay, sent home to recover, not a big deal, right? Well, I should have known better. My two day stay turned into a nine day stay, as I developed hospital-acquired pneumonia, diagnosed the night my fever hit 104.7 degrees (highest fever of my life, man). Nearly a month later, I still have a Foley in. Walking is incredibly difficult, as my high school knee injury decided to completely flare up and crap out, so I have a very attractive full leg brace. I knew at one point I may need a full leg brace, but it was a hard  pill to swallow alongside the back surgery.

The surgery also gave me wicked insomnia. I'm able to sleep, some nights, but not others. My primary (who is named Happy Thanksgiving... yeah... really...) prescribed Lunesta but my insurance is denying it and we're having to fight for it. Le sigh. Just like my Lyrica fight and that took a few weeks to get approved. It's hard, man, it's hard.

The simplest trips exhaust me, the most basic chores make me feel like death on a stick. I'm struggling with recovery, and it sucks! It's been a rough, rough road. I just don't know how I should feel about it, even. Should I feel relief that I'm recovering? Regret that things have turned out so poorly? Thankful that, for the most part, my doctors finally got their heads out of their asses are and trying to help me?

I find myself terribly angry at God. While at one point, my faith is keeping me going, another part is filled with rage and anger. Why did He let things turn out like this? Why can't He just freaking HEAL me already? He's God, right? Surely He can make me better and take away my pain. But at the same time, He's not. And I can't understand why. I can't understand what lessons He wants me to learn from this.

My life has become a whirlwind of appointments, and when it's not, doing some simple picking up and laying in bed playing Persona 4, Final Fantasy, or Zelda. Or watching Netflix. It sucks that this is what my life has turned into. It sucks that this is how I'm spending my summer. Not having fun outside, not having fun with my friends... but laying around in pain. I mean yes, good things are happening this summer, but at the same time, so much not good is happening. I'm watching my health fall to shambles, and not a single thing can be done.

I just wish there was an option to make it easier. I just wish there was an option to make this pain go away. I just wish there was an option to make things better.