notes from the Vortex

depression – it’s not as obviously physical as a runny nose or a broken bone or a butt rash, but it’s just as painful and irritating…and yes, physical on some level. it is like an invisible force that pins you down, even though your brain commands you to get up and do something. and anxiety, depression’s loud-mouth crony, screeches on incessantly in the background, warning how frightening the world will be if you even try to get up. so you slump back down into the dark, cradling arms of the vortex, suckling the breast of self-inflicted pain because it masquerades as safety. 

i have been struggling again lately, and i thought i'd share my recent journal entries to give you and idea of what living with depression feels like:

february 7, 2013

i am in the vortex, deep in the vortex. hating myself for it. i know i should get up and shower. i know i have to take the car for inspection and i could meet with my therapist in an hour, but i am here still avoiding…life. the weight is so heavy. intertia’s wall is thick. it brings me anxiety to think about penetrating it to get back into life.

love story just ended on netflix. my moment is here.

i promised myself. i can reset the neural traces.

…but i have this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach and all i want to do is crawl into a ball again. god, how hard is it to flamin’ shower!?!

february 10, 2013

righting myself after isolating and taking a dip into the vortex is like trying to right a kayak that has flipped over. i panic and flail but sometimes just sit there head pointed down, helpless and submerged – all the while dragged by the raging current downstream, pummeled by rocks and debris and anything else that comes my way.

i feel so overwhelmed and wonder if i will ever master this thing called life.