when it gets bad again
my longest and most stable relationship has been with my depression. transition has alleviated the pain but two years in, i can feel it creeping back into my life. i feel suffocated by this deepest black fog. depression chokes me, cutting my access to the outside world.
depression is never far away. every moment of happiness, every smile, every scrap of affection, every sense of accomplishment is shadowed by the looming dread that reminds me this will not last. i seek new experiences, new relationships, new obsessions, new bodies, yet nothing can keep depression at bay.
i have nothing definitive to say. my depression isnt so deep and dark as it used to be. i have found new ways to cope that go beyond rotting in bed....barely. mostly, i am frustrated by depressions unwillingness to let me go. i am afraid that i will die as miserably as i lived. when i started my transition i was so hopeful that i could finally put this demon to rest but unfortunately i dont think thats possible anymore. i dont think i will ever escape depression. i dont think i will live a life without this casual violence. i dont think i can live. i know i have to, but i dont know if i can.
i am just about to turn 35, which feels significant in a way. for some reason i am filled with terror over my wasted years and my decades of failure. i have failed every relationship, every academic prospect, every attempt at normalcy, yet still i continue on more privileged than most despite constantly failing upwards. i consider renting this small apartment and having a job i like the height of privilege, something so rare in these uncertain times. maybe im feeling the same ennui and sluggishness the economy is. maybe this is just the result of daily barrages of bad news from all outlets despite trying to dodge the new worst thing youve heard all year. in times of genocide and ecocide i wonder if anyone is able to get their fucking shit together at all.
maybe the grass isnt greener on the other side. maybe everyone else is miserable too. i know this is true for a lot of my friends. yet why is it so hard to cling to each other for support? why is everything such a fucking struggle? depression is one of few diseases that convinces the sufferer to avoid treatment.
and yet. i am fighting depression in every way. i have been for decades. (i wont list everything ive been doing to try to keep my mental heath afloat. assume i am doing yoga and diet and good sleep and exercise and fresh air. assume i have made a routine of staying active and enjoying a life without excess. assume i am making the effort you think im not. assume that one weird trick wont be the cure we both want it to be. just for me. just assume that i am not a lazy, stupid person. just assume that i am doing the right things. i know its impossible to accept that one may suffer for reasons outside their control, but just assume that this is possible.) i have been fighting so hard yet the depression persists. its depressing.
i think what could help is having a support network but thats a no-no. you see, you arent allowed to want others to help you. this is your own problem. no one owes you anything. no one owes you a shoulder to cry on. no one owes you love. you are a disgusting incel who thinks other people should love him and that is all you will ever be. sometimes i catch myself wishing for love and acceptance and harshly punish myself--if i were worthy of such a privilege, others would have recognized it by now. the fact that no one has is proof that i am foul beyond words. wishing for love and acceptance and kindness from others is entitlement. wishing for company is entitlement. wishing for affection is entitlement. wishing for anything is entitlement. dont bother.
i cried in front of my mother and she looked as if i had shit all over my face. she was disgusted.
i asked my father for help and he left me on read. he was indifferent.
just work harder. this is your fault. you deserve this.
after all of this, allow me one entitled wish. i wish this, whatever this is, would end.