on Depression- day 11 after Defeat

i’ve spent most the time since my last post in a general numb state.  had the relative ups and downs, but the status quo is mostly in numbness.  so what is it, this numbness i am exercising so vehemently? it is the power of ‘not to feel’.  but not now, now i am feeling something, a light buzz beneath the surface that lies way beneath the surface… some multiple layers below, some space in the very back, making its way forward/upward hesitantly, retrieving, forwarding again.. and so on and so off, and so backwards and so forwards. 

my mind is empty, my heart is blank. time feels like a still state, for how barely it moves; even my heart is barely beating- time is flatlining. 

if you don’t know what to feel, then what do you say? what do you write, what do you communicate? ironic really, because when i am not on this page, my mind is able to sample different ideas for discussion, and now- nothing. 

Perhaps i can discuss the physiological manifestations of depression, as i’ve been experiencing them… hmmm, sure why not-

1- Appetite: my appetite has been swaying from one extreme to the next, with no real pattern. either i cannot eat, cannot eat for the love of me, for the emptiness in my body, for the dizziness of my blood flow.. and then i just want to eat. home food, chocolate, rice, spice, in massive quantity, so massive, until i cannot move, barely breath, as though i’m stuffing my emotions in deeper and deeper- so even when it then overflows, it’s what i’ve put in last that spills… the pain is packed so deep in, it cannot even find it’s way out- propelled or not.. 

2- Sleep: for an insomniac, i am sleeping more than i can even comprehend. in fact, if i could sleep away the month, i probably would. this is no death wish. not at all. (i’m rather fond of the liberty of breathing and all that follows). but sleep is becoming like my alternate consumption to living, to thinking, to “pain killers”, and of course, maybe it’s because we cannot feel in our sleep? that is so not true, ask me about the nightmares. realistic tellings of experiences past or coming, fears bubbling speaking, anger, anxiety, what have you. and still, i prefer sleep. let my subconscious deal with this crap. and let my “I” stay in static denial. curiosity for the unknown put on hold. 

3- Fading Reflection: i cannot recognise my face anymore. i don’t care much for the mirror. to look at my reflection is only a systematic action of ‘before i leave the house’, looking more for stains on my shirt, does it match, etc. but even those are non-conditional to > turn the music off, put the phone in the bag, turn off light and AC, and walk out.  if you have a problem with what i look like on the outside, try looking in, and then ask me if i care.  but it’s not even that. it’s that i feel no recognition, no connection, no relationship with whatever/whoever is looking back at me.   in fact, i just don’t like her right now. or ever. 

4- Capped Tears: oh boy. that’s a good one. do you know that i can only cry when i’m in the car. i asked and asked why, and came to this conclusion, true or ridiculous i don’t know- but at least it’s a conclusion.  (because God knows how much i love those). in the car, means the tears have to stop upon arriving destination.  so if i know there’s a forced end, i will let them start. the tears sit, stay, live, in my eyes. but i am refusing their natural descent, selective breathing, selective being.  who said this was going to be easy, right?

5- Silence: specially of the other.  i find social exchange exhausting. draining. suffocating. sit with me, if you want. but say nothing. for the love of God, please say nothing. do not ask me about my day, how i feel, or even tell me about this or that, or what fucking ever. i need silence, disturbance is everything around me.

6- Sensitivity of all Senses: the sun is too bright, the night is too dark, music is noise, silk is a burden, peppermint is being sarcastic, and even cotton looks like it’s resentful for no good reason.  


What the hell do you want Fati. this is not a question. this is a statement. 

About fatimasque

living for artimaginationcuriousity
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