I’m so tired of being tired.

Depression is a fuck.

It’s absolutely exhausting being so hallow. At least for me it is. I know some people who speed right up when they get depressed. I’ve always been the opposite. My depression looks like the girl who can’t get out of bed for any reason (aside from obligations like work/money), who cries at the smell of fresh air, who either eats too much or eats nothing at all with no in-between, who’s hair falls out because of stress, who’s face breaks out,  who’s bags under her eyes have aged her 40 years, and who’s body is genuinely weak.

I’m so tired of being tired.
I’m tired of being depressed. I’m tired of feeling like I’m supposed to be able to pull myself out of it- then in turn feeling worse that I can’t. I’m tired that my depersonalization has been amplified for days. I’m tired that I’ve run out of people in my life to talk to. I’m tired that every day feels like a sad soap opera on repeat. Waking up and performing the same routine day in and day out. I have pushed people away, given up on my hobbies, stopped caring about my appearance. I can’t remember the last time I put a full face of makeup on. (I loved makeup.)

All the while I feel like I’m just doing this to myself, or like I’m just being ridiculous. I know everyone’s feelings are valid- but I seem to excuse myself from that statement. I seem to have a hard time cutting myself any slack. I understand how my mind works, and how depression weaves it’s way around my soul, yet I just sit back and watch it do it’s thing. I’m too tired to stop it.

A part of me feels like I’m doing this as punishment. I’ve hurt people, I’ve been hypocritical, annoying, obnoxious, etc. Suffering is simply my own punishment.

I don’t even want it to stop sometimes. I always have to fake my emotions, fake my smile, hide the truth of how I’m feeling. When I’m this deep in my depression, it’s as if I don’t have to fake it anymore. I’m too far gone for people to not notice. I’ve already flip flopped in this blog post. That’s the way my every minute of every day is. From one extreme to the other, nonstop.

I want to live. I want to die. I want to smile. I want to cry. I want to stop feeling this way. I never want it to stop. I want to sulk. I want to thrive. I want to be happy. I want to feel everything I hide.

It’s a vicious, never-ending cycle of bullshit.

This post is under my unfiltered, raw, category. This is what my depression looks like today. Maybe tomorrow it will be different. untitled.pngAs always,
Peace. Love. And Light to my readers.

 

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