Blaahh...
Excuse me if some of this has typos, there is a rather insistent cat oozing what I'm sure is quite deliberately in front of my keyboard. Now, with the preliminaries out of the way, I'm not and never have been a woman to run crying to a journal or play "Dear Diary" at the slightest emotional provocation. But perhaps if I unburdened myself of some of this I'd feel better. I can't sleep. Ever. Seriously, between my apnea (which, granted could be better-treated, but let's not split hairs) and my depression I'm surprised I ever feel "rested" at all. But it's 4:10 A.M. and I'm down here updating my LJ and not feeling in the *least* tired, though I've been up since 11:30 yesterday morning. Ironic, that. I'm either WAY too tired to function or WAY too awake to behave like a normal human being come morning. I will occasionally find myself asleep when the rest of the world is waking. Not that this is a problem, mind.
If I lived in JAPAN! But anyway, is this mania? I can't tell if I'm bipolar and have been misdiagnosed as depressed, if this has anything to do with my AD/HD tendencies (though not "diagnosed," as such, there are strong leanings), or what, but this is just the *BEGINNING* of my "emo-rant". So I have not slept on a schedule like a normal human being in oh, say 2 1/2-3 weeks (Grr) and it's been throwing me off at *best*. Add to that the fact that I seem constantly in an emotional "fog," or a dysthymic spell (low-grade, long-lasting depression, say 4-7 out of 10 on the 1-10 "how depressed are you? scale) where nothing makes me happy and I find little good in much of life (books, Johnny Depp, comics and friends excepted. Family is "eh" on that scale. Love 'em, but they frustrate me and so kinda' *add* my emotional issues...)
I don't even enjoy food very much, which is kind of new for me. Even what I think I want to eat doesn't really satisfy. But at least I don't forage all night like I used to, so yay for me... I'm serious about the food thing. Really.
And I *burn* some days with an energy I can neither quantify nor channel positively and I don't know what to do with myself. My mind paces like a caged tiger, and it will not still. I wish meditation were more help, but good luck tranq'ing *that* beast of prey...I now know how Byron and Shelley must have felt, truly. I feel *exactly* that way, but my creative Muse has left me, or sleeps so soundly I cannot rouse Her, and for Her it is I mourn, but can do little. I especially miss writing, being *able* to write foction, having the words flow like the silk hems of a geisha's kimono. I *MISS* that, perhaps more than anything, but I am too emotionally vague (glazed? Foggy? Indifferent is a fine choice), or perhaps too uncaring, to yet have mourned or attempted a resurrection of that Force.
Why does depression have to f*** you up so systemically? I mean, not just your emotions, okay *that* I could eventually modulate, but all the physical suckage on top of that sometimes I wonder if I can drag myself out of the house. Often enough, I don't. Where do I have to go besides 10 hours of work a week? I only *wish* I felt useful enough to want to *make* myself useful, but I don't.
Part of the whole "shut-in" mentality is that I still carry around some emotional shrapnel of new-driver's paranoia. *YES*, I've had my license since August '05, does that mean I'm any more *comfortable* behind the wheel of a car? Not always.
Although my worry levels are pretty much gone since I realized how much they were trapping me, the dysthemic fog/desert has taken the place the worry used to hold so I've merely traded one form of emotional bondage-paralysis for another, and so what sort of breakthrough have I made at all, really? (Ye flipping *GODS*, that was a run-on sentence! Sorry to my readers, be there any in future!)
So I can't sleep and I don't want to eat, not to mention the fact that I can't really bring myself around into some "emotional normalcy" (whatever the living f*** *that* is... :/ ) I just sometimes wonder what's the purpose, you know? Oh, I know, I sound like I should be listening to "My Chemical Romance" and brooding or somesuch, but that's really never been my style.
And I *HATE* the thought of applying for jobs just because of all the gorram REJECTION LETTERS...Gah! SICK of feeling like a waste of space, plain and simple.
What the living bugger am I supposed to DO with myself!? Oh, yeah like those of you out there in BloggerLand will have an answer, without knowing the whole story, true...
Well, at any rate, I think I'll close this off for now, because there's only so much brooding I can take, or for that matter, subject *you* to, and only so many times I can reiterate how utterly *useless* I feel before it *really* starts to sting...
I don't necessarily want to *die*, as it were, but by the same token I don't want to *live* like this, either. I just need a change of circumstance, is all...
And I *DON'T* want platitudes about "how much I *mean* to people" or "the world is a better place that you're in it..." or all that other load of Jimmy Stewart B.S. I'll get over this in my own time, it's just right now those feelings had to claw their way out. And for that brief moment, I let them, so maybe now I can get some closure.
For now, I bid you adieu, and I'll be back later today (sometime...) with a fanfic search post.
Until then, I bid you my fondest...
Regards,
AquilaLorelei
If I lived in JAPAN! But anyway, is this mania? I can't tell if I'm bipolar and have been misdiagnosed as depressed, if this has anything to do with my AD/HD tendencies (though not "diagnosed," as such, there are strong leanings), or what, but this is just the *BEGINNING* of my "emo-rant". So I have not slept on a schedule like a normal human being in oh, say 2 1/2-3 weeks (Grr) and it's been throwing me off at *best*. Add to that the fact that I seem constantly in an emotional "fog," or a dysthymic spell (low-grade, long-lasting depression, say 4-7 out of 10 on the 1-10 "how depressed are you? scale) where nothing makes me happy and I find little good in much of life (books, Johnny Depp, comics and friends excepted. Family is "eh" on that scale. Love 'em, but they frustrate me and so kinda' *add* my emotional issues...)
I don't even enjoy food very much, which is kind of new for me. Even what I think I want to eat doesn't really satisfy. But at least I don't forage all night like I used to, so yay for me... I'm serious about the food thing. Really.
And I *burn* some days with an energy I can neither quantify nor channel positively and I don't know what to do with myself. My mind paces like a caged tiger, and it will not still. I wish meditation were more help, but good luck tranq'ing *that* beast of prey...I now know how Byron and Shelley must have felt, truly. I feel *exactly* that way, but my creative Muse has left me, or sleeps so soundly I cannot rouse Her, and for Her it is I mourn, but can do little. I especially miss writing, being *able* to write foction, having the words flow like the silk hems of a geisha's kimono. I *MISS* that, perhaps more than anything, but I am too emotionally vague (glazed? Foggy? Indifferent is a fine choice), or perhaps too uncaring, to yet have mourned or attempted a resurrection of that Force.
Why does depression have to f*** you up so systemically? I mean, not just your emotions, okay *that* I could eventually modulate, but all the physical suckage on top of that sometimes I wonder if I can drag myself out of the house. Often enough, I don't. Where do I have to go besides 10 hours of work a week? I only *wish* I felt useful enough to want to *make* myself useful, but I don't.
Part of the whole "shut-in" mentality is that I still carry around some emotional shrapnel of new-driver's paranoia. *YES*, I've had my license since August '05, does that mean I'm any more *comfortable* behind the wheel of a car? Not always.
Although my worry levels are pretty much gone since I realized how much they were trapping me, the dysthemic fog/desert has taken the place the worry used to hold so I've merely traded one form of emotional bondage-paralysis for another, and so what sort of breakthrough have I made at all, really? (Ye flipping *GODS*, that was a run-on sentence! Sorry to my readers, be there any in future!)
So I can't sleep and I don't want to eat, not to mention the fact that I can't really bring myself around into some "emotional normalcy" (whatever the living f*** *that* is... :/ ) I just sometimes wonder what's the purpose, you know? Oh, I know, I sound like I should be listening to "My Chemical Romance" and brooding or somesuch, but that's really never been my style.
And I *HATE* the thought of applying for jobs just because of all the gorram REJECTION LETTERS...Gah! SICK of feeling like a waste of space, plain and simple.
What the living bugger am I supposed to DO with myself!? Oh, yeah like those of you out there in BloggerLand will have an answer, without knowing the whole story, true...
Well, at any rate, I think I'll close this off for now, because there's only so much brooding I can take, or for that matter, subject *you* to, and only so many times I can reiterate how utterly *useless* I feel before it *really* starts to sting...
I don't necessarily want to *die*, as it were, but by the same token I don't want to *live* like this, either. I just need a change of circumstance, is all...
And I *DON'T* want platitudes about "how much I *mean* to people" or "the world is a better place that you're in it..." or all that other load of Jimmy Stewart B.S. I'll get over this in my own time, it's just right now those feelings had to claw their way out. And for that brief moment, I let them, so maybe now I can get some closure.
For now, I bid you adieu, and I'll be back later today (sometime...) with a fanfic search post.
Until then, I bid you my fondest...
Regards,
AquilaLorelei