I am struggling a lot. I can’t seem to find words to describe the feeling. Darkness. Black. Yesterday I ended up kind of dozing for hours. It takes so much will to stay conscious despite the mental pain.
I’ve been going to things. Yesterday I went to ACA meeting. It was OK. The blackness is a little more distant, sitting in the meeting. I listen to others, I speak a bit about whatever the topic is. In general sharing, I revisit my quitting my job – should I have done it? Yes or no. The fact is I did, and here I am, less stressed, many times more depressed.
After the meeting I join two others for coffee. One is an outgoing woman I’ve known for a few years from another group. The other is someone I kind of admire, an older man who speaks often of his struggle with trauma memories. It feels good to be out with others on Saturday night. I had to push myself to go out to the meeting and I was glad I did.
Then this morning, I wake up again immersed in black sorrow. Tears run down my face for no reason that springs to mind. I force myself to a church service – it’s a left-leaning church and I know all there will be as appalled as I am about the American political scenario.
It’s OK, but I sit there holding off blackness. I don’t feel able to try and socialize with anyone, though I do go for tea after. I figure it’s good to be among people, maybe. And then at home this afternoon, things seem so very black. I consider expressing somehow – should I draw, write? I get out my crayons but drawing is beyond me. It just seems like a hopeless enterprise. Writing in my journal also doesn’t work – I can’t work out what to say. Moving ink across the page is like trying to wade through sticky black pitch. Unrewarding and exhausting.
I try to read but everything seems depressing. My go to activity is to read, if I feel bad. It’s not working for me now though.
I don’t have a story to go with this bleak feeling. I can try to fish for stories, what might be true. Maybe….I am lonely? Though being with people isn’t helping much. I am worried about being unemployed? Maybe, but not so worried my life seems to be over.
There is a part of me, V, who is deeply depressed and pessimistic. I’d been hearing a lot from this part last week, and I mentioned this in my session. Right at the end, V came out and spoke about how depressed she feels. I remember Ron really encouraging her to speak, and how sympathetic he was. As a child/teen, no one cared that I was depressed. It was simply shameful to feel like that, so my job was to pretend I was not depressed whenever anyone was around. So to have Ron want to hear about it was this new experience for V.
That’s maybe the cause of this blackness. V’s feeling being more prominent. Could be.