One more day, I swear (yeah, I USED THIS WORD. I’M RARELY SO CERTAIN.) I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF. Actually SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST is a better word (phrase), along with the caps.
Seriously looking forward to 4pm tomorrow. One more of these days will send me into the mental ward. I’m just *this* close. Yeah, like I’m not crazy enough before this entire stretch of shit. These days, I’m at my most depressed. I’m depressed over a practical issue that needs to be resolved. In the past, I get really depressed over the slightest things— if there were any causes at all, that do not require concrete actions to resolve (sorry, my sentences are so awkward today but I can’t help it), if they need to be resolved at all.
This makes me slightly envy the days where I was truly on the verge of killing myself— over nothing much, or at least over something that can be resolved so easily and I was just so disillusioned.
This also reminded me of the slight epiphany I had when I was talking to a friend-acquaintance of mine who was diagnosed with a certain nerve disorder and had potentially worse diagnoses coming i.e. cancer. Apart from that, he was really paranoid and told me that his doctor said that he could be having clinical depression. At that time, I was totally ‘-.-‘. If you have been talking to me about such things or have been following this space long enough, you’ll know or get the feeling that I’ll be really against such sudden diagnoses or whatever. Like, depression is not purely caused by chemicals and you don’t ‘get’ depression i.e. suddenly catching it from something or someone. Such a diagnosis or announcement of the condition makes it sound like such an accidental affair. Yadayadayada. So I was telling him about how I coped, how not to feel, how to do something about it etc. etc., all the while looking down on his reaction towards the diagnosis (for depression).
And after a while, it hit me. My brand of depression or whatever it is, was a sky of difference from his. I’m always advocating solving the root cause behind depression or whatever but his condition can’t be solved— at least not easily. And it’s not entirely within his control. If I were in his place, I don’t even think I’ll emerge emotionally alive. I’ll also bring up the problem with my eyes if I have the time but I don’t. It’s just that I get paranoid over the slightest things— though it has improved. But then, about the friend-acquaintance, I must say that (to redeem myself) even if he can’t solve the root-root-root cause, he can still become more optimistic or whatever and this mood factor sure helps in the process.