Nothing much, just another depressed moan.

I’m sitting at my laptop, procrastinating. My mood is strange, I am both despairing and sort of numb. I want to scream at everything, ‘I DON’T CARE. FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE’. Even at the people who are trying to help.

I got up today. I put some makeup on, and I brushed my hair. That hasn’t been happening a lot recently, so I’ll regard that as a positive. It stopped there, unfortunately. Why do simple things such as getting dressed, washing up and laundry seem to take up so much energy and time? I feel like I’m climbing a mountain. (Mt. Laundry. And it’s pants, let me tell you.) How the hell do other people do this, and work, and find time for creative stuff? I literally can only do one at a time, and every time I feel like I’m even beginning to catch up, I have to go around to my mother’s to be there for her. I am at breaking point.

Every now and again, I muster up the energy to go out and meet friends. And yes, I do have a nice time. But it seriously exhausts me so much that I need a couple of weeks to get over it afterwards. How do people go out all the time, I don’t understand it? Although I used to, I suppose. When I wasn’t feeling like this. The trouble is, people think I’m better if I manage to be bright for a couple of days in a row, and don’t understand why a few days later, I fall to pieces. It’s exhausting trying to seem better. I think it’s what has made me hide away again. Speaking to people is too much effort. Just reading messages to which I’ll have to respond is tiring. Making phone calls is draining. Booking appointments and then showing up for them is too much. I’m even putting off posting letters at the moment because the street outside is far too busy for me to want to brave the 30 second walk to the letterbox.

All the things I have to do, including things that should be nice like writing and drawing, are sort of whirling around my head and making me want to run away somewhere. Even the fun things I’d like to do feel like chores at the moment, rather than things I joyfully undertake. They are just one more thing to do. Even watching TV programmes or playing games feels impossible to do.

I want to escape, to run away somewhere where nobody knows me and I don’t have any pressure to be anything to anyone else (no wonder I lose friends all the time – I’m terrible to them as even their kindness, love and friendship get too much.) Or I want to hurt myself, which is always a real possibility at times like these, as it has a sort of calming effect. I’m not on Valium, so the only hope here is to self-medicate a bit with alcohol. I don’t want to do this. I have psoriasis, and alcohol makes my skin flare up until I look like a fucking pink and red leopard, and it is especially bad at the moment. It’s great to feel down mentally and then look at yourself in the mirror and hate yourself physically too. My doctor’s advice, apart from topical steroids was to ‘reduce stress in your life.’ HA. Reminds me of all those dicks on the internet who tell you that ‘positive attitudes attract positive things in your life’. Well, 1. it’s pretty impossible to MAKE yourself positive if you feel like this, as you’ll only be doing it by lying, and won’t believe it, and 2. That must be what every person who has ever had anything bad happen to them – you know, cancer, rape, trauma – was doing wrong. They weren’t being POSITIVE enough.

I wish I had some money, as I’d pay for a private psychiatrist and dermatologist and try to get this shit sorted. Oh but wait. To have money I need a job, and to have a job I need to be able to drag my fat arse out of this flat. I’m not having a great time trying to get appointments with my doctor at the moment (it’s one of those surgeries where you have to phone on the day for an appointment, and once you finally get through, they are usually all gone), and they do not have a great track record with either treating my depression or having any understanding at all towards my symptoms. My GP put me on Prozac last year then just left me to it-I didn’t book my follow up appointment as that was when Mum got taken into hospital and so it has just been left.

I should change GPs, I should call people, I should do this, that, something else. I need to take control of my finances. YES I FUCKING KNOW WHAT I SHOULD DO and when you tell me, I just feel more despairing. It’s just another fucking thing to do. So many things. Too many things.

The worst thing is that this nothing, this amazing lack of achieving anything, has been going on for fucking YEARS, as evidenced by Facebook Memories (ah Facebook, thanks for making me want to kill myself on a daily basis.) I’m nearly 40. I see 20 year-olds on the internet daily doing something with their lives. You’d think that would be motivation for me to act, but it just makes me sit here and add yet another thing to my mental ‘to-do’ list that I’ll never do, as I’ll just be sitting here still, procrastinating and moaning about it.


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