I don’t know why I’m writing this. On some level, I realize it probably won’t help me. But I am falling into a downward spiral and I’m clinging to anything and everything because I don’t want to go back to that place again.
I thought I was strong enough to handle something and I wasn’t. Now I’m spiraling into depression and I’m scared.
It started off slow. I asked for criticism. I got it. I then couldn’t let it go. Now the thoughts are burrowing beneath my skin, piercing my heart, stabbing my lungs. I’ve added all my own criticisms of myself to what was said. It’s like a dark, looming shadow is swallowing all my happiness. I’m fighting it, but that means I’m fighting myself–and even if I win, I lose.
My mother sat me down and listed all the positive things about me she could think of. It was a long list. Why doesn’t that matter to me? It used to matter. Why doesn’t it matter anymore?
My brother, bless him, didn’t tell me I was stupid. He hugged me, grabbed my shoulders, and asked me “What would help?” I feebly said I probably needed to laugh. We then spent the next hour in stitches watching the British version of “Top Gear.”
Band-aids on a gaping wound. I love them for trying.
I’m giving myself a month to drag myself out of this. If I can’t, I’m seeking help.
P.S. Sorry for not posting ever. I’ve been unemployed and then gainfully employed and have been in a state of constant flux and transition. This probably is affecting the above depression spiral.