I thought I was getting better. I really did. The good days were starting to outweigh the bad days, and I was starting to have more energy and desire to do things again.
The last three days have been a rapid slide back down the spiral of depression. Weepiness, lack of energy, lack of motivation, general disinterest in the business of living, are all back. There’s so much I should be doing, and all I want to do is sleep my life away.
Depression’s a bit like that. You think you’re winning, you think you’re getting better, and then it turns around and bites you again. Sometimes it’s predictable, sometimes it’s completely out of the blue and makes no sense. This time around it makes no sense. I’m eating well, going to the gym, taking my meds and my supplements – but still I spiral further and further down.
It starts to feel hopeless, like the light at the end of the tunnel just took a screaming leap off the nearest cliff and didn’t survive the fall. The dream of being well feels further and further away, almost unreachable. The cold outside is migrating to inside me.
I’ve got no snappy chirpy ending for this. The only thing I can say is that maybe tomorrow will be better.