I find myself faced with another dilemma, one I’m all too familiar with. It’s not the first time, after all. It’s been about a month and I haven’t really been depressed. I have had more than one anxiety attacks almost everyday. (Once I didn’t have them for two days in a ray, that worried me, but they came back the third day.) I’m not sure if they are anxiety attacks or what, maybe only palpitations and intrusive thoughts.
Remember when I said there are two difficult times when you have depression? One was when you got so depressed, and nearly suicidal, that you had to take meds? And the other was when you got so miserable with meds that you were ready to give up and you’d rather be depressed again? Well, for me there is a third dilemma. It’s the calm before the storm. I can’t take it. I have had anxiety for a month and very little depression. It’s killing me now, like I have lost a part of my body. How would you feel if you lost your arm? That’s exactly how I feel.
I know, I know it sounds absolutely retarded to want depression back. But if you had a rotten had and the doctors amputated it, all for good reason, because it was rotting and would’ve soon rotted your entire body and all, and you had to get it amputated to stay alive, you’d give it up or something, right? But, then, wouldn’t you want it back too? Wouldn’t a part of you say you’d rather have a rotting arm then no arm? Wouldn’t you want to be whole again? I don’t know if this is something with all depressed people, it probably isn’t, but it certainly is with me. I want it back.
This slight depression isn’t good enough. I want it to hit me full force. I want those panic attacks and misery. I don’t know why. I just feel so incomplete. The best way to describe it would be Katy Perry’s song. I do feel paper thin and drifting through the wind. I’m no longer as tired as I used to be. I can stay up for hours on end, like 15-6 hours, like everyone else. I still have bouts of depression and I know it will be back in a month. It always comes back in 3 months at most, so I know, but I can’t wait.
I feel it coming slowly. The anxiety attacks keep getting worse. The palpitations keep getting stronger. The slight depression that I have keeps increasing. But all of this happens on a very micro level, so it takes a week or two to realize that something has gotten stronger, or worse.
I shouldn’t be saying this. I remember being actually suicidal, ready to go. That was a dark place, but I think I’d rather be there. It’s not black and white, you know. It may seem black and white to you. I see the difference too. I know the difference between a healthy state of mind and an unhealthy one. But I choose the unhealthy one. It’s what I’d be comfortable with. It sounds absolutely retarded, but it is also true.