I’m exhausted. Everything aches. I’m soaring along thinking maybe I can be an all-round super-awesome capable mature adult person and then I fly into a wall and I’m not that person and I never will be, I can’t do it. I’m doing all the right things – today I upset someone at work but I apologised to them maturely and made amends and they forgave me and I didn’t just collapse in on myself to become a festering ball of self-hatred like before. Exercise is good so I do lots of that, zumba and football and cycling to work and signing up for a 5k for charity even though I always hated running and I still do.
But the trouble with all of these things is they cost extra. Even though writing down the anxieties that are plaguing me at the start of the day helps keep them out of my mind so I can get some work done, the very act of gathering them all together and confining them to paper is draining and I cannot get that energy back. Whatever food and endorphins and caffeine and medication I take are used up, and more, by dealing with the depression-things. There’s nothing left for just living life.
I can’t enjoy my evenings, the only time I get with my husband, because I’m just spent from walking so quickly (because I’m too anxious to waste time) to and from the bus stop and the office in this sticky weather, then consciously not allowing my day to be ruined by joking negative rebuffs from senior colleagues to my attempts at optimism about how work is going when I’m there, being always surrounded by people who might at any moment want to interact with me and needing to have the right thing to say.
I stayed up an hour later than usual last night reading a book and it’s just thrown this day out completely, like having a hangover. Was it worth it for the small bit of escapism? Where do I get more energy from? All the fruit and veg and sun and exercise aren’t cutting it, I’m out of ideas and sleep doesn’t help, I never feel rested when I wake up. I’m spread too thinly, and Facebook is showing me posts like this I wrote two years ago and three years ago and nothing has changed, there’s just a big weight in my chest and my brain is foggy and I don’t want to see anyone or do anything but if I stop doing that the weight and the creeping darkness will be the only things left.