I've been writing this blog for 2 years and have had this lot of depression for 2 and a half years. An anniversary, of sorts. I can almost imagine the conversation the black could have had with me, could it actually talk...
‘Happy Anniversary! It’s been ten years since your last big depression! And as a present to remember those times, have another big lot of depression! Oh yeh, remember when you were in the middle of it and thinking, well, at least I don’t have a long term partner to worry about or a job or future to be concerned with? Now you do! Those fears will also come crashing down around and upon you. And hey, who knows, maybe they’ll even come true and nearly break you in two?’
And come true, they did. A wife who thought that the, ‘In sickness and in health’ vow was more a guideline rather than something to commit to. A PT job that was taken, the house, caring home… I've covered this before but yeh, those fears did come true.
…the only interesting thing that ever happens to me is sneezing
And so, here I am 2 years on. Progressions? The foundation degree is something and is perhaps a chance at a career while my writing and performing slows to nothing. I don’t really know what to do with those now. Can I do anything with them now? I know I write this blog but this is more for me in the absence of a diary and it’s viewed by what, three people? The trouble is, I feel so unsure and uncertain about everything now. I can barely sort myself out to even get to the gym nowadays and my last push at exercise resulted in a near Batman-esque broken back from which I’m only now just now recovering. I've let my living space deteriorate and myself too and right now I’m back to, ‘Tomorrow is when I’ll sort it.’
Yeh, well, tomorrow never comes, as I’ve mentioned before. Getting old now isn’t it? Hell, the whole illness is getting old. I think it got old the moment I realised my, then, wife was serious about doing one. I just can’t seem to sort myself out. Any hopes I have of forming a romantic relationship are quickly tempered by me either looking at smelling myself or that tiny voice quickly reminding me what happened the last time I got intimate with someone for a long time and didn't take too kindly to depression being a part of the relationship as well. As soon as I browse for partners inner me pipes up…
'Look at the state of you, the state of your surroundings, books, dvds, clothes left where you discarded them, stubble that is rapidly growing from 80s style to disheveled down and out and… DEPRESSION! Remember that?’
And all the enthusiasm drains away from me.
So, I just don't know anymore.
Perhaps it's best if I just go back to taking it all one day at a time.