There’s been a couple of occasions when I’ve talked about my anxiety, my trauma, and feeling depressed, but I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about it outside of just saying “yeah, I feel like shit”. Right now I’m really in the thick of it and it fucking sucks because there’s actually no discernible reason for me to be feeling as sad as I am.
My relationships are doing very well, I’m making some really great and exciting friendships, I was just voted onto the Board of Directors for an incredible sexual health center in my community, I’m rocking it at an LGBTQ+ community services job that I truly love, and I’m being published for the first time ever in an erotica anthology, more specifically the Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year Volume 4, edited by the legendary Sinclair Sexsmith and published by Cleis Press.
On top of it all, my partner Fal and I are FINALLY moving out of our nightmare of an apartment into a new place that’s nearly triple the size with a balcony, two bedrooms, a fuck ton of storage space, a washer and drier, dishwasher, and a plug-in parking spot.
Fuck yeah, right!?
Nope. Well, yes, but doesn’t make me feel any less fucking sad.
Fact is that none of that shit matters when it comes to depression because depression doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. It’s just there, pulling me down for no good fucking reason because I happened to be born with chemical imbalances in my head or some shit. My doctors have told me it’s called chronic depression, or, persistent depression disorder, or, dysthymia, if I want to make it sound more cool like it’s a Harry Potter spell or something.
You’d think knowing what it is would help but it doesn’t really. I know I have chronic depression. I’ve had is since as long as I can remember, all the way back to my tween years. I’m taking medication for it, I’ve been seeing a truly incredible queer and trans friendly therapist, because she’s queer too, for months now, and all of that has been great. Like it’s good I’m doing those things and I know they mostly help because not all weeks are as bad or hopeless feeling as the last couple have been.
Problem is that right now, I’m sad as fuck. I’m exhausted, sleeping 8 – 10 hours a day yet still feeling so fucking tired when I wake up. Some days it takes me literal hours to get out of bed and do anything. Even if I manage it I’m just walking around feeling sore and sleepy and a little mad. Luckily I work from home mostly so I’m still doing alright there. But everything else is suffering.
I’ve been procrastinating on writing a new erotica story to submit to Sinclair’s next anthology collection. Every time I go to sit down I just feel myself sink further and further into my seat and I just can’t seem to get excited about it at all. I’m barely blogging too at the moment. The thought of writing this took all of my energy and the thought of writing anything else just kind of make me mad.
I’m only blathering as much as I am because it’s a hell of a lot easier writing something when you really don’t care about the quality of it in the slightest. And I really don’t tbh. I’m just rambling into the void here, deep down hoping that writing anything right now might twig even the tiniest of bounce backs.
I just don’t want to feel this way anymore. It’s been happening on and off all year. Okay not just all year but for my whole life.
I’ve been super impatient with my partners and friends too. Super grumpy and self-isolating even when I’m online too. Like I’ll see somebody I like make a post and rather than engage with it in any meaningful way I’m instead just kind of sitting there thinking “fuck you for not being as sad as I am… also that top looks super cute on you”.
I’m not eating well, I’m not sleeping well (though again I’ve had sleeping problems for decades but it’s extra bad currently), I’m kinda pissed about everything, and overall my productivity is just fucking garbage.
Oh and did I say that I was tired yet? Because I really can’t stress that enough. I’m so, so, so fucking tired, y’all.
Anyway, I didn’t want to take any new selfies right now for this so here’s a fucking weird picture of me standing behind a lamp from 3-years ago that I found on my old iPhone while going through it. I don’t know why it was taken… but it was, and now here it is on my blog.
Now that I’m looking at it again it’s actually pretty creepy too… Happy Halloween? I guess?
2 thoughts on “Tired and Sad”
Depression is exhausting. And debilitating, and infuriating, and a total fucking joy-sucking vampire. I send you good wishes and cyberhugs, and I hope that a respite from your sadness is just around the corner. 💐
Thank you so much, Jupiter, for all of that. It really, truly IS a fucking joy-sucking vampire. The good wishes and cyberhugs are genuinely appreciated as well.
While I’ve still been really struggling with motivation and creativity, and overwhelming sadness of course lol, I’m feeling a little more like I’m wanting to write some stuff again so that’s a good sign. I’m not putting any pressure on myself but have an erotic graphic novel review in mind, wish me luck!