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Being Depressed, On The Precise Date of March 15, 1999
This journal entry actually exists. I found it in a notebook, in a stack of other writing notebooks, in a box in my garage. I wrote before that, for depressed people, we can often not capture our depressive states of mind when we are not in them. That is to say, we forget what it feels like each and every time after the mood disappears.
That makes a document like this more interesting. A full diary of my thoughts and feelings over time would be useful. I vividly recall not being to describe those feelings. The existential dread, the fear of life, of people, the despair. The despair. Being wrapped in it like a blanket, and somehow being warmed by it. My old friend.
Having said goodbye to this friend, who is actually my mortal enemy, that is the greatest achievement of my entire life. This friend may return, show up on my doorstep, with his suitcase, but hopefully I won’t open the door.
I do recall the feeling of sweet, sweet relief, each and every time the “fog” lifted. I recall feeling things again-the warmth of the sun and starting to enjoy the company of others again.
My pattern was that I hid myself away. If I read and bingewatched t.v. and played video games, nobody would “know”. And at some point, I would sleep. Sleeping was sweet relief, a kind of “reset”. The feelings…
