The dark hole of depression
I have once again found myself sucked into the vortex known as the dark hole of depression.
Since I’m not up to doing much of anything else, I decided to use this as an opportunity. I may as well accomplish something during my visit with depression.
A lot of people wonder what depression is like. It can be hard to explain, especially when you’re not in it’s depths. When you’re having good days, you almost forget how bad it feels to fall back into the dark hole of depression.
While I’m stuck here, I want to tell you about it. A front row seat to what it’s actually like to feel depression. All of the ugly details in all their glory. I hope this will help others to better understand just what someone goes through when they find themselves in this place, the place I have now found myself.
And honestly, this is how I’m feeling while it’s mild. It’s usually much worse.
What I am feeling –
I’m feeling lost, I feel flat. Feeling flat and then feeling sadness and despair tend to alternate between each other. I have no energy, no desire to move. There are things I know I should be doing, but I don’t care right now.
I feel alone. Embarrassed. Ashamed.
Nothing makes me feel any better in this moment. I just want to lay here. The desire to get up and escape the world is there, but even that isn’t strong enough to make me want to move. I’m in my pajamas, and I don’t care. I need a shower, but I don’t care.
The only thing I want to do is hide from the world. Hide from everyone and everything, and just be left alone. I just want everything to be quiet and still. I haven’t eaten, and I’m feeling hungry, but I ignore this feeling. I have no desire to eat. I just don’t want to move.
My thoughts –
My mind is mostly blank. When I do think, the thoughts that run through my head are ugly and unpleasant. I think about how angry I am at for allowing myself to fall back in to the dark hole of depression.
I’m disappointed in myself. I’m worried about everything I didn’t get done today, and how much more I’m going to end up having to do. I’m ashamed of my behavior, and embarrassed that I have found myself here once again.
These thoughts are only fuel thrown on this already out of control fire.
I’m nervous about the kids coming home. I don’t want them to know how I’m feeling. Not only that, I will no longer be alone, and I will have to force myself to get up and try to function as a parent. Hoping they don’t notice my swollen, puffy eyes from my crying spells. Also hoping they don’t see through my facade of lies.
How did I even get here? I was feeling fine just the other day. Where did that person go? I want to get back to that person I was only a few short days ago. But I’m not sure how to get there right now.
I know that I will get there. Knowing that gets me through. That thought is what keeps me company in the dark hole of depression. It is the light at the end of this deep and lonely tunnel.
Riding it out –
I am lucky. I have an amazing counselor. I know I will be seeing her soon. This will help me. Having someone to talk to who understands, and listens without judgement helps a lot.
Until my appointment, I will have to ride out the storm. I will take some deep breaths, and try to do my best until then. I start by making myself get up and do something small – a load of laundry, loading the dishwasher.
Then I have to take a break. I push myself once again to get up and do something else. As I do this, it provides me with a small amount of motivation. A tiny window of relief, but it doesn’t last very long. I find myself right back under my blanket, where I feel safe and hidden from the world.
From there, I only force myself to do the things I absolutely have to. These are typically only the things my kids need from me unfortunately, the bare minimum. This makes me feel guilty. My kids deserve a better mom. They deserve someone who is always available. Both physically and emotionally.
These new thoughts drive me further into the dark hole of depression. I punish myself by blocking any emotion, and go back to feeling flat.
I want to feel nothing.
I pray for bedtime to save me from the remainder of the day. I don’t want my kids to see me this way. I am supposed to be strong, I am supposed to be able to do anything and everything. I cannot let them know how weak I can be.
All I want to do is hide until I am able to climb out of this seemingly bottomless pit. I can’t let anyone know. I must keep it a secret.
Pretend like everything is fine. Force a smile, and push through until bedtime. I think to myself, “Tomorrow is another day, I pray that tomorrow is better”.
I close my eyes, and find solace in sleep, until tomorrow.