Evidence of things unseen

I suppose I should really write something here. Hopefully something a tad less dramatic than my last post.

I realise now that it perhaps sounded a bit more sinister than was my intention. When I talk of giving up and so on, I don't mean giving up on actually being alive and breathing and what not - I mean giving up on the idea of anything ever getting any better. Giving up the hope that can be so painful so often. It feels so much like everytime I have hope that things might change, that things can get better that something comes along to knock me down, and then kick me when I'm down, then stamp on my head, piss on me and leave me there for scavenging animals to try to eat. Not that I'm being melodramatic or anything... But it's increasingly difficult to try to focus on the bright side when it feels like the universe punishes me every time that I do.

Which is what brings me to the topic of this lovely little post - evidence. Evidence is a pretty big part of my depression and anxiety problems, now that I think about it. I have all of this evidence stored up inside for every time something has gone wrong, everytime something hasn't gone my way, everytime someone has let me down or hurt me (intentionally or otherwise). And it's very difficult to see evidence for anything more positive. Everything becomes distorted and corrupted in your mind, you absolutely cannot believe anything good that's ever happened, anything good that anyone has ever said to you. Anything good is all lies, as far as you're concerned.

One of the techniques of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is to list the pros and cons to things - make out an actual list of the reasons for and against anything that you think. It's supposed to force you to recognise that you're not always right about the things that you think, to stop you over-generalising and catastrophising everything and look at the details instead of just going off the rails. It's a difficult balancing act, though, to actually make yourself recognise and accept any of the good things. That's what I've been struggling with a lot lately.

For a while there I kept trying - no matter how down I got - to not turn it into a self-worth thing, to not beat myself up everytime I got upset or annoyed or emotional about something. I tried to just accept my flaws rather than focus all my energy on them and how awful a person I must be as a result, and tried to concentrate instead on the person that I want to be. To actually try to be a bit better instead of just complaining to myself that I'm so awful all the time.

But that gets hard sometimes. When you get let down or disappointed or struggle to cope with something not going as you had hoped it would, it got more and more difficult for me to keep trying to focus on the practical, positive, proactive side of things. It didn't even feel like self hate a lot of the time - it was fear. Paralysing, horrible, horrible fear. That I was so much worse a person than I thought, because why else would these things be happening to me? Have I just been kidding myself, pulling the wool over my eyes - am I really so much worse than I ever thought I was, and that's why all of this is happening? And if I'm so awful when I thought I was trying to get better, then I must just be a waste of space, I can't do anything right and should just give up. It went something like that.

I seem to have a fear of not being able to see the real evidence in front of me. I'm terrified of discovering that I've been blind to something, that I've been stupid not to see what's right in my face. I suppose maybe that's something to do with the perfectionism - not just the not being perfect part, but being wrong. I hate being wrong. I hate not knowing. I hate not knowing what to do next, what the right answer is or how to find the answer. In some ways, that's a positive trait in me - I suppose it's what always made me good at research and really enjoy learning things and gave me a curiosity about the world and education. But when you turn that sort of inspection towards yourself, it can all go horribly wrong.

And then on top of all of that, there's the sense of failure. I was so convinced a few months ago that I'd made some sort of breakthrough, that things were really, honestly going to be different. And that I've managed to have such an awful month or two makes me feel rather defeated. It makes me question everything. Do I just keep trying, or am I trying at the wrong thing? Is there something I should be doing differently? And if so, what is it, and how do I find out? And so often, that all just gets so exhausting. It feels physically hard to keep going on, keep getting out of bed and going through the motions each day. Very real and scary financial implications for me and my family are the only things that do eventually drag me out of bed. But that becomes so much effort, that it's hard to find the energy or motivation to do anything else.

I need help with this. But I don't know what sort. New meds? Therapy? Although I can't afford therapy and I don't know if I have any free options left to me at the moment. I know I need to get out and socialise more but I've gotten to the point where I just don't seem to have many friends left, and those that I do have I can only see or talk to once in a blue moon because they're too busy. And then there's the whole can of worms of whether or not to tell anyone anything about my problems, which is a whole other post on its own. My doctor keeps telling me to get out and exercise more. To try to find a hobby or something that involves other people. I don't think she gets just how far gone I am - I can barely force myself to be around my flatmates, trying to do something like that is like entering the Olympics before I can walk. And I feel so confined by so many aspects of my situation that I, once again, don't know what the right answer is. I have zero funds at all for anything - I'm finding it increasingly difficult to make ends meet, let alone finding any disposable income for extracurricular activities. My work schedule is such that I never have free time that I can depend upon - I have to work from home when I'm sick and when I'm on leave, so I can't exactly commit much of my free time to anything because there just isn't much. And I'm so physically exhausted all the time from not sleeping properly that doing anything other than collapsing as soon as I get in the door seems like an impossibility.

Now I'm starting to make excuses for things, I know that. As much as I need some help and support, I need to do this myself because no one can do it for me. I need to make the effort. Trying to figure out that balance between doing it myself and needing and wanting help has always been a struggle for me. I always seem to oscillate between being so desperate for friends and relationships - people I can rely on - and being so hurt and disappointed by the failure of such relationships that I give up on people altogether. Neither is really working for me.

Anyway, that's just some thoughts for the time being. Maybe getting some of this stuff down here will get it out of my head for a bit so I can actually have some thoughts in there about something other than my mental health. It'd be a nice change.

Hope?

I'm doing a bit better today. I managed to distract myself yesterday and get a few things done, which helped take my mind off of things a bit. I'm trying really hard not to let myself slip back into all those dark potholes along the road, and I think I'm getting somewhere. Maybe. I hope, anyway. I just have to keep reminding myself of everything that I realised and felt when I had my 'revelation' a few months ago. I need to focus on who I want to be, not who I am now, or what's going on now to upset me. I have to keep in mind who I want to be, who I think I really am underneath all of this shit, and keep trying to get there. That makes it sound a helluva lot easier than it actually is, and I'm not exactly doing cartwheels over here, but I'm trying. That's something, I guess.

As for the whole ex situation, that's a bit more complicated. But I think I might have figured something out there too. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. This doesn't have to be all sorted out perfectly, one way or the other, right now. If we both really meant everything we said about how much we care about each other and wanting to stay friends, then that's how it will be. It won't always be easy or comfortable, but as long as we don't let go of the friendship, we'll figure our way through it somehow. Eventually.

Or something like that. I think I'm less articulate when I'm less upset, for some reason. Makes wanting to be both a writer and sane a little difficult, really. Anyway, I'm trying to get back to real life and not let everything in my head overtake that. Making Christmas presents, baking cookies, working, tidying, doing laundry, all that stuff. May not sound all that exciting or that big of a deal, but anything that might help me cling onto my life is worth a shot.

A new day? Pfft.

Well, it's a new day. I don't really know what profound message there's supposed to be in that. People talk about tomorrow being a new day when you're having a bad day, but what the fuck sort of help is that supposed to be? Another whole day to feel miserable and shitty and to have to drag yourself through? Great.

You probably can't tell from my sunny disposition, but I'm not in a much better mood today. I'm tired, weak, dizzy, annoyed, irritable and cranky as all hell. All I want to do is crawl back into bed but my mediocre-ly paid job beckons me so here I am. I keep trying to distract myself - when I find myself drifting off into my head and daydreaming about anything (good or bad) I keep trying to tell myself to stop it, and think of something else to think of. But that's easier said than done. Especially when my office appears to be staffed with loud, obnoxious missing links of evolution.

I want to sleep so badly. I don't really remember what I dreamed about last night, but I don't think it was upsetting, so I'd take sleep over consciousness any day. I just don't know what I'm meant to do here. I don't know where the middle ground is between ignoring everything and hoping it will be ok, and having a complete meltdown like yesterday.

And I'm not sure that I even want to find the middle ground right now. I mean, I don't want to feel like this, I don't want to be in this sort of pain and feel like my entire life is falling down around my shoulders. I just want it all fixed. I want him to want me again, I want my best friend back. I don't want to get over him. It's been months and that's what it comes down to. I don't want to get over him. I want him back. I know that that isn't going to happen, but I can't get it out of my head. So where do I go from here? I know that so much of this situation - not just the relationship stuff but depression in general - is about the choices we make. But I can't choose how I feel about him. I didn't choose to fall for him in the first place, how do I choose to not feel this way about him now?

I really feel like I'm missing the part of my brain where people figure this stuff out and get through it. I just have no idea how that happens, or what it looks or feels like. All I know is I'm tired, and I want this out of my head. I want not to have to think about it. Not to be tormented with it.

Anyway, if I want to stop thinking about it so much I should probably shut the hell up.

I don't know.

I don't know what to make of today. I've completely fallen apart. I feel frustrated, ashamed and disappointed in myself, that I've gone right back to where I started, it seems. More than that I'm just tired. Tired of being tired. Of feeling so alone, and in pain, and feeling so completely uncertain about everything. I feel like I have no judgement anymore - no idea what's real, what's not; what's right, what's wrong; what will help or what will make things worse. I just don't know.

I know I'm exhausted. I've cried most of the evening. I tired myself out for a bit there and distracted myself with quizzes on the internet (sounds really lame, but it seems to help take my mind off things, because I'm forcing myself to think about something else). But as soon as I started to feel better I noticed that I was doing it again with the fantasies. Imagining that everything would be ok - that all of my fears have been wrong, that my ex isn't seeing anyone else, and that things will be happily ever after. But they won't.

I wonder what has been going on in my head these last few months. I wonder was anything real. I don't think so. I've barely seen anyone else the last few months apart from people at work, my family, and my flatmates. And I keep all contact with all of the above to a bare minimum. I've lived entirely in my head, and created this world where everything is fine. And because I've not been quite as depressed, or at least not beating myself up in quite the same way, I've been telling myself that I've been making some sort of progress. But I haven't. I've done what I always do - retreated into this fantasy world. And now that reality is smacking me in the face I'm having a full blown meltdown.

I don't know how to get from one minute to the next. The prospect of the rest of the day terrifies me - what am I going to do after I finish this blog? Cry some more? Go over and over and over things in my head? I guess I go over things so much in the hope that one time I'll get it right - I'll figure it out. But I never do. And it's not something I can figure out. It's not like if I concentrate hard enough I'll work it out, like on a quiz or something. This all just is, and I have to deal with it. But the problem is, I have no idea what that means or involves. I don't know if I've ever truly gotten over anything that's hurt me badly in my life - I don't know what it looks like.

And then comes the night. Trying to get to sleep and failing miserably. The aching pain of needing to sleep but being afraid of it. Trying not to cry during the night. Counting down the hours till I have to get up for work. Dragging myself into work and trying not to cry on the bus. Trying not to cry in the office, in the bathroom, in the kitchen. Not to mention trying to get a fuckload of work done, that was already going to be difficult enough to manage.

I just want this out of my head. All of it. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was a fucking asshole.