I thought of one thing Allie didnt mention in her depression part II (or at least for me, so from here on out I’ll use “you” but what I mean is “I” in a desperate attempt to hope someone can relate). I’ve never been to a desert, but I imagine that she was right about that, depression is just like one. And she also was right in that at first, there are lots of feelings, and then really no feelings at all, and eventually I reached a point (now) where most of my feelings fall on a scale somewhere between “painfully irritated” to “vomit-inducing rage,” with occasional appearances by emotions called “crying” and “that thing is cute I am smile briefly ok bye”
And normally that’s it, that’s just it for me, literally the only things I care about in the whole world are my rats and my sales at work (and the latter is only half the time) and typically I feel nothing unless I am irritated or downright pissed off at someone or something and would really like to be left alone to continue feeling nothing on my own since positive emotions also make me angry
but then every once in a while this other thing happens and usually for me this is when the urge to cut/smoke/make suicide notes comes in
suddenly there’s this feeling of literally nauseating, bone-crushing, face-melting despair. For no reason whatsoever that I can discern. I was just tumbling and I saw this video of some little fluffy dog with bug eyes that had electric tape on it’s face like eyebrows and at the end this dramatic opera music plays and it zooms in on its face and instead of being wracked with hysterical laughter I started crying REAL TEARS because all of a sudden, in that moment of all moments, I was hit with this undeniable reality about everything I love dying and me dying and how sad that is because does dying hurt and how much pain is Topher right now (I am terrified that he is going to be dead before the week is out) and remembering louie and luca and willow dying in my arms and holding her body after they did it because I wouldnt leave the room and how it felt like patrick essentially died after he left me and how when you lose someone in that way you can really feel something, like an organ or tissue or something that was a real, living, alive piece of you DYING and ceasing to function and ceasing to help you stay alive also and the feeling you get when you see roadkill and then you realize it was a domesticated animal like a dog or cat and that somebody loved that animal and that animal loved somebody and now it’s just laying on the side of the road somewhere flat as a pancake
sometimes im just sitting there and a piece of me dies preemptively thinking about the future and everything else I have yet to lose and how little that really is but how its all I have and you know those things obviously make me happy that are still here but I dont ever want to feel this way again. I just want to be left alone and feel nothing and do what I have to do and work and sleep and be NOTHING until the day I finally die and never hurt like this again
that’s my only other emotion, and that’s the only emotion I felt at first. when i got real depressed and bad again. i envy anyone who has never been depressed and doesn’t know what it’s like to have that actually sickening feeling of helplessness, like actually enough to make you stop eating for days or weeks on end because it hurts so bad and it makes you physically dizzy, and that’s all you feel, the inside of your chest squeezing in on itself, like when you cant catch a breath or when your friends would trap you inside a sleeping bag and you couldn’t breathe and for a second there was that terror like you wouldn’t be able to get out. every minute that you are awake. those are the times you hate yourself because you know that feeling is coming from inside of you for no reason and you’d do anything to kill it, to get it out, to make it stop. You’d hurt yourself if you had to. Like chewing off a limb caught under a boulder. your brain is trying to get rid of the infected part but it doesnt realize that the part of you is sick is YOUR BRAIN because that is like trying to see your own eyeballs so you just end up hurting parts of you that are still ok
being with patrick was like a fairy tale. I felt that once in two years when I was with him. and the rest of the time, I can’t remember a week or a month that went by when that didn’t grip me at some point. and on top of that, people treating me like shit day in and day out - people that still call me a “friend” and people that never will call me a friend again because I won’t let them and I made sure they wouldn’t feel the need before I left.
I would rather feel nothing. I honest to god prefer it. Is that really such a fucking wonder.
I’m sure those people that hurt me would like me more if I managed to be funny about this but everyone fucking hates how brutally honest I am. I don’t have time for fairy tales anymore. (And on that note? You don’t get lucky twice. Especially if you’re me.)