The Irony Of Depression

Posted by Bobby Jenkins | Apr 18, 2018 | Bipolar Disorder, Bobby Jenkins: The Diary of a Bipolar Bear, Depression, Identity | 0 |

Dear Diary,

The irony of depression is that I have no energy, but I also can’t focus. Everyone thinks I’m mad at them and keeps demanding explanations. 

I feel like I’m the evil-twin version of myself. I’ve lost my manners, my sleeping pattern, my will to connect with people. Who the fuck am I? And why do I feel so rushed? Like I have to hurry up and get over this. Start talking and laughing again .. I feel so conflicted.

I feel forced to be courteous though. Like I owe people my regular, energetic self even when I’m sick with depression. I tried keeping to myself and it backfired. My whole family’s trying to connect now and I’ve been having terrible anxiety as a result. My mind is a notch away from fucking scrambled.

For 4 days now I’ve been in my housecoat. My roommates keep commenting on it like, “HA! You’re an absolute mess!” (*I don’t laugh back or respond*) “you’ve been holed up for 3 days! Get out of the house!” and the ever-famous most-heard question this episode “UM, are you ok?”. I must look as mentally sick as I feel. It makes me insecure AF.

Andy asked me point-blank yesterday if I have mental illness. I knew right away that I should have painted the bags under my eyes with some bleach. Or taken off the housecoat…. I still haven’t figured out how to protect myself from questions when I have no answers or desire to be polite and answer them.

Yes, I’m sad. No, there’s not a reason. Just chemicals and fucking up my meds- but I’m not comfortable sharing that. It sounds like I have no control. I resent that.

Anything that requires thought like texting, family events and phone calls makes me fucking cringe. I hate it. And I’m vexed that I can’t gain access to my usually psychotically-productive and social self. It fucking scares me.

I also lost my sense of humour. My roommate thought I didn’t like him because I stopped courtesy laughing days ago- but his enthusiastic stories and jokes just kept coming. When he opened my bedroom door to show me some Grindr dick pic- I blacked out. He was so shook when I screamed “Jesus Not Now- close the fucking DOOR”. I immediately felt the need to apologize, and I resented it, because I’m fucking sick of having to go through a mood disorder AND justify or explain it at the same time. 

My sister showed up at my door after I missed Easter dinner to tell me she was “worried” that I hadn’t been returning texts. I almost threw something at her fucking head. LEAVE ME ALONE DAMMIT UGHHH 

I don’t have the desire to speak, fuck, or even eat. EAT!! Now THAT’S mental illness for ya. I look so slim and grungy now. 

I just lay down and stare at the ceiling. I don’t even know what I’m thinking about- it’s like my thoughts are just a foggy ass Flipagram. No focus, nothing. I need this episode to go away- I’m so tired of being bitchy and exhausted. *cries

If you or a loved one you know battles with Bipolar Disorder or any Mental Health Issues, please do get the help you need. If you need to talk to someone now, you can talk to one of the many fantastic therapists at Better Help by CLICKING HERE.

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