Smog

I feel the depression seeping back in. Like a fog machine slowly filling the theatre of my life with cloudy smoky atmosphere. I stand on stage, going through the motions of everyday life, but the lights grow dimmer, the air thicker and thicker. My limbs feel heavy and cumbersome. There is a nagging at the back of my head, almost a headache. Eating is a chore,  but i want to fill myself with the emotional comfort food provides. I know I need to complete tasks, do work and tick jobs off my ever increasing to do list, but mustering the energy to do so seems impossible. I feel trapped and breathless, even though I am sitting, doing nothing in an empty room.

I’ve nibbled at the end of my nail. Its edge is raw and jagged. It annoys me, but instead of filing it, I bite it more, running my thumb along its edge.

Am I sick? Fighting a low level virus- is that what causes this lethargy, this haze? Last night had goose prickles on my skin until I put on my pyjamas, which felt clingy and claustrophobic. An hour later I was uncomfortably hot, almost clammy. A fever perhaps? Maybe I am not relapsing, just fighting off some mild illness? Or is that my depressed mind trying to seek a physical cause to a mental problem? Why should i need a physical cause- isn’t depression enough on its own. Fuck you society and your stigma.

I hate weeks like this. The reminder that I will struggle for the rest of my life. That i will never wholly be free from the sadness, the anxiety or the haze. The demons follow me around the theatre of my life with the smoke machine, ready to flick the switch at the smallest sign of stress, at the smallest cue. Trigger happy.

Keep taking the meds. Keep trying to stick to the meal plan. Do as much work as you can. Take some Panadol. Breathe. Abstain from alcohol. Close your eyes and try to sleep when you are supposed to, don’t nap during the day. You know the drill by now.