As much as I feel my new soon to be old therapist ‘gets’ me more than other’s I’ve had perviously I still faced a worrying moment when I explained how I felt and was met by a very confused look.
This was in the midst of a the worst depressive mood I’d had since I started seeing him. It seems to be similar, people seem OK with the not so bad bad moods but when I slide into the abyss they can’t seem to conceptualise it.
I was trying to explain I felt blank, I felt dead inside, I felt unable to feel. This has been a big problem for me and I am convinced it is to do with my meds but no one listens to me on that issue. I’d use the term ‘anhedonia’ but the poor guy didn’t know what I meant by ‘ambivalent’ (to be fair to the guy English isn’t his first language and perhaps that’s where some of the understanding problems stem from) . Though it goes beyond anhedonia, it’s not just an inability to feel pleasure it’s an inability to feel anything but a dull, gnawing numbness.
This is why this blog goes silent for so long; if I can’t feel anything I have no impetus to write , to do anything but lull about in a half catatonic state. I can’t THINK, I don’t have to words to describe how I feel because my brain won’t fucking work. There’s a line from a Bob Dylan song ‘Tomorrow is such a long time’ that goes
I can’t see my reflection in the waters
I can’t speak the sounds that show no pain
I can’t hear the echo of my footsteps
Or can’t remember the sound of my own name
whilst the song refers to being in love that inability to function at even a basic level is what I feel, but with more angst. I swear I do struggle to remember my name sometimes. It is so unbelievably frustrating, especially as someone who has constructed part of their identity around intelligence, when you’re shit at sport, not very popular but like reading it just sort of happens, “I might be a geek and a bit fat but at least I’m not stupid!”.
I’ve also been reading up (on my blackberry, in the dark, in bed when I can’t sleep and I wonder why my eyesight is so bad) about depression and I came across this article ‘Hard depression, Soft Bipolar” which seems to explain how I have been since I was about 11. It would certainly explain the tendency for me to ‘poop out’ on various drugs (I must be on no 3 or 4 by now and I’m still not really any better) and a million other things (I am never depressed ‘all the time’ but it comes and goes, often frighteningly quickly and intensely) but alas the whole ‘not really recognised by most doctors’ bit gives me little hope.