A note on Depression
It sucks.
That is all.
Okay, that isn’t all there is I have to say about it. But it does suck.
I’ve been battling with an interesting case of depression that I think I can properly allocate to: The Cuddle Blues, or more recently I’ve liked to call ‘The Demon Mirror Disease’. For those that don’t know what the demon mirror is, it was in a fairy tale where it was shattered and a piece of it got lodged in a hero’s eye and they could then only see all the negative things in the world, nothing else. So you might be able to guess where this is going.
This particular set of depression is consistently appearing in my life and for good reason. You see, I have a lot of problems with interacting with people. Quite frankly, I just don’t like people on average, I don’t like the lies, and I don’t like dealing with people when the majority of them can never just say what they mean to say. So I do a lot better by myself, and I am more or less something of a major hermit. I keep to myself, I don’t much care for going out or partying, and I sure as hell avoid relationships as often as I can.
As you can imagine this presents a bit of a problem though. As much as I don’t LIKE socializing, or interacting with people, or dealing with them. I am at least some part human, and humans require social interaction. There is no denying that. Sure I can go for longer lengths than a regular human (by my calculation nine months) before I require any major interaction with people, but once I hit that mark, if I don’t get interaction STAT, I spiral down into the cuddle blues. And I will damn well stay there until that is fixed or I have finally gone through with killing myself.
Yeah, suicide. Always a fun topic to bring up. But it’s a very real thing that I’ve fought against multiple times and people I know have fought against it. When I hit those cuddle blues, there’s no ‘oh I kinda feel blah’ or anything like that. One day I’m smiling and laughing, and the next I’ve got a knife over my arm because I’m just like: Fuck this world and all the people in it.
But underneath all that depressive shit, these cuddle blues affect me in a major way. The depression part to the point of suicide is instant, but something else remains if I go even a week without REAL interaction with a physical and present person. That thing is negativity. And oh, my cloud of negativity has gotten so large that I’ve literally had a talking to at work about how I was depressing everyone else in the office with my negative remarks. And the worst part… I’m aware of it, but they are the only thoughts that come to me. I’m more likely to notice how shitastic you are doing at your job or being a friend than I am at how awesome you played baseball that day.
That doesn’t mean that I can’t control myself with it. It’s just since it’s so subconscious it can take me a while to recognize it and then once I do I can adjust it but even then my sarcasm tends to bleed out and then no one can make sense of it and think I’m just being an asshole, which really I am.
Well, to add to this there has only ever been one solution I have found to ‘curing’ this cuddle blues. And that is having an animal. Doesn’t even matter if they can cuddle me, just as long as I can hold them, touch them, interact with them, talk with them. Then I can stave off the depression madness. Every time I’ve gone longer than nine months without an animal such as a dog or a person who is either a best friend or a significant other then I descend into this madness and it destroys everything.
I may have thoughts of suicide but that doesn’t mean I’ll act on them, I’ve come close a few times but I always get to that point to where I know it is going to hurt and then give up. The real destruction is that I may not physically commit suicide, but damn do I fuck everything up that I can get near. Any relationship I might be in, including friends, family, etc gets all kinds of negative shit until most of the time they just stop talking to me.
Additionally, a few times in my bouts of cuddle blues I will literally just stop going to work. Won’t call, won’t do anything, won’t say anything, I’ll just stop going. And more than not I’ll just lay in bed moping my ass off because I want to feel sorry for myself and my life and how bullshit the world is and how much of a mess I am.
This is largely why I’ve been trying to get to a point of being able to do my job on my time by being a novelist, cause even if a few days pass by that I don’t do anything but lay in bed I will still eventually get the job done.
This is also why I tend to push a lot of people away from me. And by a lot I mean pretty much everyone. I talk to my family maybe a couple of times a year at most, and I just don’t have friends. There’s only one person who consistently and regularly talks to me and that’s because they are the only person in my life who has accepted that sometimes I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dreadful person and that most of the time I won’t start the interaction, but on the occasion I actually might want to talk I’ll have good things to say, I’ll inspire some thought and speculation of ideas. So they keep coming back to chat with me and they are quite honestly the only person I have still considered to be my friend.
Sure, I know plenty of people. And in a way you could call them friends, but they are friends on the level that you’ve had to interact with them and they don’t really care about you, or you don’t really care about them. They are just… the people around you.
And that above phrase is why I am most certainly a negative and terrible person, and one of many, many reasons why I’ve often wondered what I am even doing in this world anymore.
That’s why I accept I’m an Imp. It’s keeping me sane. It’s keeping negative, but alive and functioning on some level. Cause I may be a fuckin’ dreadful person. But I am the best god damn imp there ever was.
This was supposed to be my day of my serial, a new one in fact, but I’m not yet sure it will get done and it’s to no fault of anyone but my own for that. But I think this is an important aspect for me to discuss because I don’t just battle a case of procrastination, I battle my negativity and my depression consistently just to be able to keep writing at the very least. In fact at this point, the writing is all I really have in my life. It’s the only thing that has been keeping me going. The only thing other than pain that has stopped me multiple times from wanting to just… let go.
I won’t let go though. I may cry, I may spend a week in bed for no reason, and I may ruin every relationship and every person’s self-esteem that I know, but I won’t let go. I won’t just give up. I have stories to tell, and they are going to be told. No matter what.
Fuck, I need a drink.
And a hug.
- The Imp
