Depleted

Over the years, even in my non-depressed periods, I’ve been hit by the energy truck as I like to call it, and it runs over me around every 3-6 months, and I get completed winded and can’t do anything. I don’t know if it’s a result of my depression, or is physical nature, but it gets compounded by my depression. I assume I have the energy it’s just my illness zapping me of all energy and the answer is to force myself for a walk, or to a yoga class, or something else. Don’t be lazy I say. If I do the opposite, indulge in nothing, I will even further compound my illness through my listlessness. But sometimes I just can’t mobilize, no matter how much my willpower urges me.

I can’t work during these times. My brain is foggy, it’s so difficult and when I have a hard assignment ahead of me, it usually makes more sense to give up and wait for the day I wake up and feel refreshed and energized and can tackle it with the laser focus that comes to me, when I need to. It usually doesn’t help to push, push push. Better to try to do some low-hanging fruit, administrative tasks, rather than take on something cerebral in these moments. Sometimes I did just push, I had no choice, but every time it comes back, that repository of strength seems locked off, inaccessible now. If i try to wait it out, each day I don’t wake up renewed I sink deeper.

At one point this energy illness, they weren’t sure if it was an autoimmune disease or something serious, but it might just be psychosomatic. What does that even mean? It’s all in my head? If I can’t beat my depression, how the fuck do I beat a psychosomatic illness? When my body is shutting down, giving me the sensation of having high fevers and chills, without any real symptoms, it all feels so incredibly overwhelming – how do I possibly talk myself out of this?

If this lack of energy persists, the self hatred comes on strong, the disappointment in myself, my wish that if I am even a little bit bipolar, my manic side will come on to give me the tools to push through. All that neoliberal brainwashing personal responsibility shit pulls through and I believe if I try try try harder enough I can get through this. Me, feeling totally incapacitated, that is shameful and I should just die, I have no value and i will never survive this life.

Some treatments, remind us that in a period of depression, you should look at small victories, getting out of bed, showering, feeding yourself, these small things are accomplishments. But a week has gone by and I wanted more for myself, I — even the girl who uttered she was #antigoals for 2020, I still had things I wanted to do, errands I wanted to run, progress I wanted to make, I was doing these things slow and steadily and then I got hit with a relapse and the energy truck and there are good moments, nice times with friends, getting my hair done or a new tattoo, but nothing where I’m making progress. And I am unbelievably frustrated with myself.

I wonder if this disease, the disease of productivity and progress, the source of my shame and self-hatred, is far more insidious, far more dangerous, than the actual mental illness or physical condition I may or may not have.

The worst is being so tired I retreat to my bed by 6pm but then if I try to sleep my brain is overactive, and I can’t and I wait wait wait and then at 1am I give in and take my benzo to put me to sleep then I sleep until noon the next day and I feel disgusting. I live a life now, where I don’t wake up to 30 emails or demands or people wondering where I am, but I create that same pressure for myself. I saw myself half-waking up and then the self-hatred lulling me back into sleep. I could be physically sick, and my body needs the rest, but I just don’t know.

I’m depleted. I feel subhuman. I hate myself. I question my self-worth. If I can’t do basic things, if basic things overwhelm me, I ask myself if it’s better to just be dead. How will you survive? How will thrive? To what end are you pushing pushing when you’re tank of energy is on empty?