I find myself in the midst of a pretty serious depressive episode. And I find this particular one to be more frustrating than the average depressive episode. This episode is hitting me when things are going well and I do not like that.
I find depression easier to cope with, personally, when it’s happening during troublesome times. It’s easier to accept depression and interact with it when it makes sense for it to be present. Situational depression, as they call it. But what happens when depression hits during the happy moments?
Things are going really well for me in my life right now. I am currently not dealing with any major obstacles for the first time in years. Which in itself is kind of confusing and new territory for me. Is everything perfect? Absolutely not. But it’s all extremely manageable and the good grossly outweighs the bad at this point in time. Yet I find myself so incredibly depressed it’s hard to function.
I’m currently struggling to connect with life at all, let alone bask in the happiness that now exists in my life. I’m hitting a point where I am once again struggling to get out of bed. I’m finding everything to be upsetting and I have no tolerance for anything that it outside of my blanket burrito. I had to fight off crying all day at work because of an error I made.
I had to stop and ask myself, why am I so upset about this? What are my emotions really telling me? Ultimately, I’m in a depression and I am incredibly angry about being in said depression. I resent depression for interfering with my day to day life. I am furious with depression for getting in the way of my precious, newly found stability and happiness. How dare depression do this to me? There’s also a layer of fear. I have such immense fear that I will never conquer this depression. I fear that my ability to be a sharp mind at work will never get back to what it was prior to Matthew’s death. Fear that I will forever be stuck battling this cycle of dysfunction.
There’s more to it than that, though. I also get mad at myself. Why can’t I just get myself under control? Why can’t I connect with joy? Why is my ability to function still hindered to this level three years later? How long must I fight this battle? I feel weak. I get lost in a cloud of confusion and trauma. I have such a deep disdain for trauma and the impact it has had on me as a person. And I have disdain toward myself for struggling to heal from said trauma.
I feel that the more I think about PTSD and the impact it has had on my life, the more I understand why it is considered a disability. There are times where it is a truly debilitating disorder for me. And I get an extra layer of frustration toward society because I don’t fit into a capitalist society and so often have to push myself outside of my comfort zone so that I can afford to live. A large portion of society doesn’t even know about PTSD or how it impacts an individual. It’s this obscure concept to them and so many believe it only impacts veterans, as if that is somehow okay? How many people in this world face struggles similar to mine? How many face a far more intense situation than mine? I couldn’t tell you.
But I do know that in my personal case, my life would be a hell of a lot easier if I had more time and space for healing. Time to remove myself from working when I need it. Remove myself from people when I am facing a flare up. More often than not, I’d rather be at work, interacting with people and feeling productive with my day. But sometimes, it’s too much and having to push myself because I can’t afford anything else is soul crushing. It sometimes amplifies those feelings of isolation that come with PTSD. I feel broken, and I get frustrated that I can’t function like my peers. I get embarrassed that I can’t work at the same capacity as my peers, too.
All of these feelings because I made a mistake at work in the middle of a depressive episode. If I had made this same mistake when I wasn’t in a depressive episode, I would not be having this sort of reaction. Depression is a thief.