I didn't know doing that had a name. I just recently found an article called "Smiling Depression" which highlighted what I do and have been doing for most of my life.
It was always easier and safer to be fine, not to let on anything was wrong. My memory fails me until I'm in my 20's... I remember little to nothing and what little I do remember is mostly like a Polaroid... little snaps of things that can twig more but not always. That being said, I do remember at least one occasion of trying to tell my parents (at the kitchen table) of how I was feeling. I remember how awkward I felt talking about it, how my father kept reading the paper and my mum going through paperwork or something at her end of the table. I don't remember anything being said directly to me, I remember my mum looking at my dad and my dad reading. I only remember the looks... one sarcastic look (in my late teen's it was akin to an eye roll) and one non-reaction. That was it.
I never let on with the doctors, the psychologists, the social workers or the people in my support group how I truly feel. They would judge me... they would treat me differently... in some fashion I would stand out... if they know my family history they would even tar me with the same brush as my father (that is a long story for another time).
Lately things have been better than they have been over the last 5-6 years... actually longer more like 10 years which is why I am struggling to know why am I feeling this way now. Things could be worse. They have been much worse... so now that things are better why am I struggling so hard with my depression.
I struggle to maintain concentration for my FT job, my home business, my writing (the blog is only one small piece of the writing I have been ignoring), I have no social life and I'm pushing people away. Even my wee furry loves - my dogs - I have been pushing away. Even writing this blog post, its taken me hours, and I've had to stop and think so many times on what I was going to say... it was right there on the tip of my fingertips... and it flies away. I've never been this way before. Ever. Sometimes it scares me that I can't control my mind.
To look at me - I'm working - I'm productive at work (although it is taking me much longer to get stuff done) - I am busy... you'd think nothing was wrong. But that really isn't true. I'm screaming inside. I feel like I'm going to crumble to dust at any given moment. I've been shunning people for the past 2 months... sticking to my desk, brushing off those friends and family that I normally talk to almost every day, I'm almost non-existent on social media. I've meditated on and off for almost 27 years and yet I can't sit and meditate... I can't calm my mind, empty it, or even steady it enough to meditate.
I've been told that I have a gift to make people laugh. In the lunchroom at work I can make people laugh in some fashion, and the topic of conversation can be anything. Except now I can't be bothered to go in the room, to sit and talk, to sit and listen, just to walk in the room. I just can't be bothered.
Where I can really feel something is not right - as an emotional eater - I don't want to eat. I'm not hungry, I'd rather not eat. This is something that has never happened before. I don't drink, I don't do drugs, I don't have anything left. Everything that I thought I had, doesn't mean anything to me anymore. There is no way I can think of to bring myself out... no pleasures. Even music doesn't bring me pleasure, doesn't spur me to sing a long, I've put my instruments away and haven't looked at them for years. I don't even have my love of music anymore.
I don't pull my hair out now because I have little to pull out. I actually found myself thinking of cutting... of marking myself in some way but I haven't done that. I want to cry but I can't bring myself to do it. Even the smiling depression has fallen away to nothing. I've never been one to put myself first, to follow through with self-care but then again, I've never had much self-esteem or self-confidence. I can't remember a time I didn't feel worthless. Hopeless. Useless.
My husband says I should talk to the mental health counselor that works with our physician, but I just don't want to talk about it any more. I just want it to stop. I just want it all to stop and go away.
Will I do anything? Probably not. I want some mental peace, I just don't know how to get it. I'm so tired of everything and I hurt physically. I just can't be bothered. I don't even want to wait for it to get better because right now I don't see it ending.
My mother would tell me I'm just an attention whore by writing all this... by acting this way.. There's part of me that says she's right because she's my mother and I've been programmed to agree with her.
But you know what - I won't be stopping... I am not asking for someone to fix me or to take care of me... I'll just keep going. I don't have a choice but to keep going.
So I continue but I am not hoping for the best. I don't know what the 'best' is anymore.
