Birthday went O.K, thanks for all the nice wishes, the internet does placate my ego sometimes. It’s nice to know this blog is read and it isn’t just me ranting into empty space .

Though I am still waiting for the letter of doom from the DWP for the dreaded Work capability assesment, which I guess is playing on my mind more than I like to admit, (though I suppose if I do end up in tears as a result of ATOS cruelty that may count in my favour; being embrassingly quick to tears has to have its upsides?).

I also had a minor ‘incident’ with the mother. I was having a bad day, so I was still in sweat pants and unwashed hair by the time mother decreed it was time for us to go the theatre, she sighed at me ‘not making an effort’ , I had one of my embrassing mini meltdowns and ended up in floods of tears (if anyone assumes us depressives do it for attention we don’t; crying infront of people is embrassing, especially the proper snot spraying red eyed crying fits). It all worked out in the end but it has highlighted the whole ‘pull yourself togther’ thing. Even my mother who does support me but doesn’t always understand can get like this, it’s hard, it’s infuriating dealing with those attitudes. Especially as it sets off the self doubt , maybe I am just pathetic and useless and unable to just ‘get on with it’ like a normal human being?

But the fact I can’t pull myself together often enough is why depression is an illness, if I could pull myself together I wouldn’t have this problem would I? I wouldn’t willing suffer this utter hell just becuase I’m a bit lazy. So telling me to ‘pull myself together’ is somewhat of a logic fail.

Yes sometimes I do do things that are ‘bad for me’ (like gin, reading the comments/unrestrained bile of assorted wierdoes with grudges on Comment is Free) that might make my depression worse, but why should I have to life the life of a saint just because of my illness? I hate the judgement that if I am suffering becuase of a tiny lapse of judgement it’s somehow extented to being my fault for the whole entire thing (even if said lack of judgment may be little more than a coincidence; sometimes I can ‘over do it’ and be fine, others I won’t be, sometimes I’ll just crash for no reason etc etc).  I was going to say something else relevant and profound but my brain’s just turned to mush. Meh.

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Comments

  1. Darlene says:

    I know EXACTLY how you feel.

    Except, I’m the one telling myself to “snap out of it.” I’m the one who thinks I am faking it. Confused? So am I… and exhausted. I keep making myself feel worse, and then yelling at myself for feeling bad.

    Anyway, I was wondering if I could quote you here, “I was having a bad day, so I was still in sweat pants and unwashed hair by the time mother decreed it was time for us to go the theatre, she sighed at me ‘not making an effort’ , I had one of my embrassing mini meltdowns and ended up in floods of tears (if anyone assumes us depressives do it for attention we don’t; crying infront of people is embrassing, especially the proper snot spraying red eyed crying fits). It all worked out in the end but it has highlighted the whole ‘pull yourself togther’ thing. Even my mother who does support me but doesn’t always understand can get like this, it’s hard, it’s infuriating dealing with those attitudes.”
    in my project. (I’d cite you as… anon, or any other name you’d prefer) You can see a draft of the project at http://dsantonelli.com/AntonelliDraft/Murk.html

    It’s basically a hypertext non-fiction of my struggles with depression, mixed in with familiar feelings from other people.
    (If you have further questions abt project, you can reach me at daranto10@gmail.com)

    And thank you for sharing :)

  2. Robert says:

    “Yes sometimes I do things that are ‘bad for me’ (like gin, reading the comments/unrestrained bile of assorted wierdoes with grudges on Comment is Free) that might make my depression worse”

    I’ve been feeling myself drawn towards engaging in activites that make my depression worse, like reading Cif articles on welfare and reading the sociopathic comments left by the conservative trolls, and staying up all night watching online porn,(which simultaneously makes me feel disgusted with some of the acts and bored with the predictability and monotony of it and jealous) and watching disaster movies and programmes about the end of the world and war movies.

    I often watch the Terminator at night, because the future world scenes after the nuclear war in it, look like my internal world with the Terminator representing my depression and ocd, the future world scenes are like my home. Its become an addiction, I am drawn towards misery, it pulls me like a magnet, there seems to be a self destructive urge in me, I am trying to fight it but I’m not winning at the momement. When I told my social worker she looked at me like “why the fuck would you do that if it’s going to make your depression worse!”

Feel free to comment, I do love a good debate

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