“No one gives a shit…” is a sentiment, I have felt many, many, many times when I have dealt with and battled my depressive episodes. There is a weird dichotomy that exists with this feeling. Like most things, there is an emotional side and an intellectual (or logical, if you will) to how I think about things. For example, I “know” there are people who care about me, but I don’t “feel” it. But that only scrapes the surface, so let me explain it.
Honestly, I know that people care. It’s obvious when I read the comments of support and encouragement in the comments sections of the various blogs I have kept. I believe I could go to a family member and tell them when I feel low and depressed (mostly) and I would receive the hugs and love, the sounding board anyone could use, and the words of encouragement intended to nudge me into a positive direction. I have always, the majority of the time, trusted people to be compassionate and kind. I know I could email, text, call, or invite out for coffee just about anyone I know, but the conundrum exists in the fact that I can’t always feel it.
That is the interesting quality of depression that makes it such a bitch (please pardon the vulgarity) – the fact you can’t FEEL happy, you can’t FEEL like people care. Although, I receive the hugs, the emails and the offers of friendships, I can’t seem to force my brain and emotions to align. There is like a total disconnect between my mind and my emotions on these things. I know it causes others discomfort too, because everyone’s hope is that by being kind, compassionate and encouraging to me, I’ll feel better. Truthfully, I need it, but I can’t always make it work. And it’s frustrating, which creates more problems within me. Sometimes, I begin to hate myself, when I can’t muster an appropriate response to someone encouraging me. Sometimes, I beat myself up when someone gives me a hug to be kind and I pull away, for some irrational idea that I might melt if they touch me or something. It’s this inability to feel like someone cares that causes me the most fits.
It’s a weird pain I feel because if it. I don’t really have the words to describe it, but it hurts physically. And I know, that based on how I felt about this – like know one gives a shit – I have done things, in the past to try and give me some sort of happiness. Granted, none of it has worked, because the pleasure gained is short lived and lacks any sustenance.
It’s this sustaining feeling of happiness that is my El Dorado…