How Deep Depression Looks to Me

Marcia Purse Health Guide
  • Things are bad. Unfortunately, I didn't figure out what was going on until the day after I saw my psychiatrist. We focused on stress and how my blood sugar problems were affecting my meds. I guess I need to call her Monday.


    In the meantime - it all started with the deadlines I mentioned in an ealier SharePost. I decided to hell with the housework, I'm at the computer only. I stayed up all night a few times trying to finish up several jobs. It was hopeless, I'd left too much undone until too late in December. But that messed up my sleep schedule and then I was hardly able to stay awake.


    I also gave up my evenings of roleplay, but - I found a substitute all too fast. PC games took over. Still, I worked like crazy right up until the end of the year and a couple of days beyond - then crashed.

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    By this time the house was a complete disaster area. I was wearing used underwear inside out because I hadn't done laundry. I didn't wash my hair for three weeks. So did I get going? No, I did not. I got gaming, for hours and hours a day. Losing myself in the games instead of focusing on the hard jobs that still need to be done.


    So that's the first thing about how my depression looks:  Obsessional behavior, doing just one thing hour after hour.


    The second thing is cutting myself off from others. I usually talk with a close friend on GoogleTalk every day. Now I've kept myself signed out.


    And the most obvious thing anyone would see is the mess. Depression is finally taking a grocery bag upstairs to the office and loading 15 empty Frappucino bottles, six plastic drink cups and four cans of cat food into it. Depression is filling my ashtray by the end of the day, every day, with the remains of three packs of cigarettes.


    Depression is being unable to fix a decent meal - not that I want one - because there is no counter space. It is both sides of the sink filled to overflowing. It is being out of clean tablespoons and salad forks, and almost out of regular forks.


    Depression is 22 bottle caps on my desk, putting off taking my bedtime pills because I want to stay up with my PC games, ignoring my reminder to clean out the cats' litter boxes until they are utterly disgusting - which has to upset the cats.


    And yet, too, my depression allows me to put on a perfectly normal, cheerful face when I run an errand. After all, I have to go buy cigarettes and Frappucino. I had to go to the dentist. All three cats needed vet appointments - two have gone so far. Including the third trip to the vet, I have six more appointments I must do in the next three months.


    And depression is - not working. Don't get me wrong, I worked my butt off the last week of the year, and for a few days after. But now I haven't done a damn thing in over a week. I'm missing new deadlines. I don't care.


    Maybe for me, depression can be summed up in those three words: "I don't care."


    Yeah, I need to call my psychiatrist Monday.

Published On: January 12, 2013