I am so so so so so tired. Like I feel like I can’t even lift my arms up.
I worked from home today so got a lie in compared to normal. I had a 3ish hour meeting and then drove back home.
All I can visualise in my head is the blood test results showing there is naff all that is physically wrong with me. Therefore this is my brain doing this to me and I don’t understand how. How can it be making me feel this tired on its own? I feel like I’m in some sort of virtual reality headset where my body is sat there wanting to go the gym, ready to run and then my mind is just hiding that from me.
The lying about why I was off continues. It still links back to the fact I don’t want people to think I can’t cope. But I can’t cope I guess which is why I’m where I am.
I don’t think it’s possible for anyone in the world to hate me as much as I hate myself. Or at least I hope not. There isn’t a single thing in the world that I don’t beat myself up for.
My counsellor told me on my first appointment is that depression is just anger turned inwards and I think it makes a lot of sense. There are a lot of things that have happened to me in my life that I think I’ve never got to be angry about… either because I didn’t know what was going on until it was too late (ex cheating with someone I considered a friend etc) or I wasn’t allowed to express it (daddy issues). I suppose some of it is that you get too fucking tired to be angry. The idea of being angry feels exhausting.
I keep getting asked by medical people if my sleep is alright and I’ve been thinking about that because they keep saying it’s quality over quantity. I went to sleep at 12 last night and woke up at 7/8. That’s not bad timewise and if I wasn’t working I would have kept going but still… here I am.
I can’t imagine that if I’d taken the medication they wanted to give me that I’d feel any less energetic. I suppose I’d be more.. numb but I don’t see how that would help with my energy. Again, brain chemistry.
My desparate urge is to go and grab caffiene but diet cola is the devil and I’m trying to stay away from it. Trying to eat more healthy things… emphasis being trying. I can hear it’s sweet song of promises from the shop down the road so it’s a good job I’m so tired.
When I last went to see my counsellor she asked me when I felt like this all started… I feel like when I was 10.. This means that for about 1/3 of my life I’ve not been plagued by mental health issues (as far as I can remember)… this 1/3 being inclusive of time when I was a baby. Part of me worries that I won’t recognise myself if I do get sorted. Part of me feels like feeling like utter shit, feeling in a black abyss is part of who I am. Does that even make sense?