Feeling vs. Being

A shadow of my former self, I feel sick and tired.  I am tired of feeling unimportant, under appreciated, unwanted, the one everyone laughs at, the one everyone stares at.  But the truth I have to remember is that I only feel that way.  I have to remember that is not the reality.  I may be depressed, but I am not what I feel.  Depression makes me feel lots of things but it is a twisted reality often.  I may be alone in a room, which is fact.  But the depression turns it into feeling unwanted and unimportant.  Last night someone said something to me that made me feel I was being laughed at, but I know it was my depressions twisting the joke around to put me as the subject matter.  I read once depression makes us conceited, and it took me awhile to understand that.  We who suffer depression are not stuck up.  I make friends all the time and try not to ever do anything wrong, often putting them above myself.  How can I be conceited?  Depression twists my mind around to make me the center of a lot of feelings.  If there is a group of strangers laughing it has to be about me, even if I just walked into the room.  To think I am “powerful” enough to be the center of attention everywhere I go… THAT is pretty conceited.  In reality that is the feelings taking over my day.  I feel a lot of different things my depressed perception twists, but they are not reality.  I have to take the round of laughter from last night as a reminder of feeling vs. being.  It made me feel that I was the joke, but it was only a joke about a movie.  And today being by myself does not mean the feeling of being unwanted is true.  I am sick and tired of feeling the victim of depression, but I am being the best I can be with a disease that creates a chaos in my mind.

The Search For Help… One Word At A Time

Depression sucks!  In the midst of many life stresses, I am feeling the symptoms of all I endure…. depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia.  I am aching from head to toe, feel my thoughts swirling like a tornado in my mind, and jumping at every little sound.  I sit alone with my laptop and try to chase the feeling of doom with a little music.  Try to pass the time with a mindless game.  Try to slow the thoughts down with relaxation techniques.  None of this is working today.  The craving for comfort food (especially some sweets) keeps drawing me to the kitchen, only to find nothing to satisfy and calm me.  I hover over my cell phone trying to decide if I should burden anyone with my pain and terror today, only deciding it would change nothing and only make me look even less “normal” than I already do.  So I turn to a blank screen and the keyboard.  I write a couple of poems to get some of the chaos out.  Then talk to you… my invisible audience that I hope exists.  I let off some of the pressure I feel pinned down by with each word I type.  It is far from a cure.  It will not stop the pain.  But to write helps distract me in some ways.  A deep focus on how the sentence will flow, or to find the right block of words to convey what I am dealing with.  The words are not completely right, but they are close enough to slow the flood.  I hold onto a dream that maybe these words are what someone else may need to see someday to know they are not alone.  Today, at this moment, they are the words that I need to write for my own peace of mind.  In short, depression sucks!