May 2022

As I type this, I lay in bed, the keys stroking slowly under my fingers. I managed a show last night and I put on a smiling face for the people I didn’t want to see me without one.

I suppose this has been a “long-time coming” after a text from my best friend last Saturday led me into a complete breakdown in the middle of the restaurant where I was eating. I’ve been on edge since. Recent developments in my personal life have been testing the still waters of my stability, and, finally, last night, a guy I was at least vaguely interested in meeting simultaneously “postponed” (canceled) our date, blocked my number, and unmatched me on our shared dating application.

Yesterday I couldn’t stop sleeping, most likely due to exhaustion from a long, busy, emotional week. My friend and I resolved our differences Thursday in a heartfelt exchange. But the impact of the strain of those five days in between was profound.

Add it all together with having emerging feelings for someone who can’t reciprocate, and my intimate partner Depression rears its ugly head.

Typing this is hard. Unlike the mania, there isn’t anything redeeming about depression. There is nothing fun, nothing expansive; there are no colors. I’m crying at random moments, struggling to take showers, and the world is a muted blueish gray.

I’ll be honest, this is a rather mild episode, which is probably why I’m still capable of typing. But the long pauses while between sentences and I think about what I could possibly say next, ring loudly in my ears.

I have great friends who are trying to understand and help, but no one can relate.

I feel ugly, I feel useless, I feel weak. I want to cry. I want to curl up in bed.

Yet, I have a date tonight, and I need to push through. I have friends who need me and I need to push through. I have responsibilities. I have work. I have laundry.

I’m not feeling suicidal, thank goodness, and no thoughts of self-harm. But the numbness is there; the slow down to my breathing, my heart pace, and my movements. Who knows, now, which direction this will go. Will I get better, will I get worse? It’s like a coin flip and I’m waiting as it spins precariously in the air.

Usually, I mitigate my experience with guilt-free self-care days, but what if there’s no time?

Anyway, I just wanted to share with you, my readers, the mild depressive episode.

Best.