I made it through a full shift. But at what cost?
Meanwhile, in my brain: an epic struggle for control is unfolding between depression and rationality. The pervading and present adversarial view renders me down to my most undesirable qualities. I’m a person in contrast to most, and the things I derive meaning from are not (generally) embraced or understood. I struggle against the norm, I flounder as a popular representative of anything, and my meager opinions about reality are unanimously unwanted. On the other end of the roulette pistol is my logical mind, which builds arguments based on evidence, and acknowledges patterns and routines as foundational to progress (which I am inclined to agree with). These two forces are tearing each other apart in my mind, in a struggle that is wearing me down mentally to a point of not being able to function. The process is slow, so I do have lots of time before I totally dissolve into nothing. I’m on an introspective quest to better understand the deeply frustrating venue of my thoughts.
Today is a prime example of this conflict of forces: my life still must transpire, but at a degree of difficulty made unreasonable by civil war. I found that my actions were labored, and my concentration utterly fractured by the pulling and pushing of ongoing mental warfare. I tried to keep things in perspective; I endeavored to persevere. By the end of my shift, I had nothing left. I drove myself home bent in a frown while torturously sad music looped on endlessly. I promptly disassembled into my underwear and ate something so that I might then go to bed and finally be at peace. And this, here I am, alone in the dark making this trivial blog post to express the frustration of living with severe mental illness. I have nothing I yearn to do with my time but retreat to bed and seek the comfort of my sheets.
I don’t rightly know what drove me forward today. I was acutely aware of how much energy I was using to get through my shift. I started the day at 55% and finished the day at 30%. The battery isn’t taking a full charge anymore. I can get enough out of rest to go back to my desk and do what I am asked to do, but then afterward, I have little or no motivation for anything else. Life between shifts is bland and could easily be made of cardboard.
So tonight I’m hoping to fall asleep rapidly, and wake up refreshed and somewhere above 60%, which would mean my energy is gaining lost ground back, and then some. That’s all I’m really hoping for. I don’t have any assurances that it will happen.
May your night be far more spicy and exciting than mine, as you are not bound to struggle with every step, thought and breath, as I am. Or, so I hope.