Tonight, I am angry. Furious at the universe for cursing me with this life. All week, things have been going wrong- nothing on my to-do list has been accomplished, my truck needed more repairs for the second week in a row, my body is tired and achy, my time spent at work has felt meaningless, I have pushed my boyfriend away (again), and experienced failure in the harshest way. For a “normal” person, this may just seem like a bad week. But for me (and my friends, depression and anxiety) this week is a downward spiral towards a really negative place.
Tonight, I want to scream and cry and rip from my chest this feeling of crushing defeat. My tongue becomes a weapon, ready to lash out at anyone who tries to reason with me. “Everything is going to be okay. Things happen for a reason. Next week will be better.” Every cell in my body is screaming in reply- you are wrong. I want to show them how wrong they are by breaking them down with my words. I want to bring them to my level so I am not so alone in this pit of despair.
Tonight, I am self-aware. I can feel my racing heartbeat in my toes, my muscles tensing up, and my skin becoming claustrophobic. I feel trapped in the muggy heat of my own body. The breathing exercises, the mantras, the medication, the habits, the triggers. I know what they all are, how they play into this disease, and how I can use them to move myself towards a better place. But I am tired of fighting a battle that I know will not end- I am disgusted with this body for betraying me with its chemical imbalances, hormones, and the broken neurotransmitters.
Tonight, I am my disorder. I am a living, breathing caricature of the chronic depressive disorder, generalized anxiety, and obsessive compulsive behaviors cocktail that lives in my brain. I don’t like it- I hate it quite honestly. This disease that drags me to the darkest of places. That causes me to lose control of my emotions, my physical being, and my own stream of consciousness. That causes me to embarrass myself by crying in the middle of an aisle at Lowe’s because they don’t have a plant I want. I am no longer me- the pieces of my identity are overshadowed by my disorder.
Tomorrow, I will keep fighting. I will do whatever it takes to pull myself from this awful place I am in tonight. It may take weeks or days- I didn’t come here overnight and I won’t be able to leave the same way. I will stick to my therapy plan and I will force myself to prevail. This is a battle that will never end, but that doesn’t mean that I am going to quit. Not tonight.