Depression Session

Recently I’ve found myself remarkably bed-bound.

My motivation to do just about anything has been completely sapped. Just getting out of bed and getting into the shower feels like such a dramatic effort, such a burn of energy. I can’t even find the effort to tear my eyes away from doomscrolling TikTok.

And the worst part? I don’t feel particularly guilty about it, or inclined to change.

It’s an odd sensation.

Yesterday I drove out to a nearby lake just to feel like I’d done something.
I looked out on the view, the stagnant water with the awe-striking mountains in the background, cold wind filling my lungs.

This was a space I used to come to as a way to clear my mind and relax for a moment.
But yesterday, I found no peace.

I guess I can’t wrap my head around what’s changed.

Has the unending dread of living in the worst cost-of-living/housing crisis finally begun to suffocate me? Have I failed to appropriately detach myself from the reality of the torture that is late-stage-capitalism? Am I reeling from an objective desire to do absolutely nothing?

A lot of the mental stuff I’ve been going through has been difficult in the sense that I can’t find an exact root to the problem.
Pain with no feasible source scares me like nothing else has.

Where will it end?
I just want things to get better, I want to pull myself out of this hole, but I can’t seem to find my footing.

Is it just seasonal? Am I just listening to too much new-wave? Has my social battery permanently disabled itself?

The logical area of my mind, weak, weary and decayed from years of abuse, tries to tell me that this is temporary. That soon I’ll be on the other side of the tunnel. That these feelings are normal and they will come to pass.
But it brings no solace. Now, my emotions are in charge. The dull, un-empathetic and consistent feeling of absolute apathy towards my situation overpowers any amount of emotion besides anxiety.

I’m going to Melbourne the week after next to go blow my depressingly small tax return and try to have a good time. And while I’m genuinely excited for that, I can’t help but feel anxious that I’m just not going to be able to rip myself out of this mindset before that time comes.

I’ve just been waiting for the day I start feeling better for so long that I’m starting to lose hope.
I guess I’ll keep waiting.