realisation

I woke up at 5am this morning. It was one of those awakenings that just happens, suddenly and intrusively. I decided to read. I was reading a book about experiences with depression. Reading is stressful. I feel the need to read over most sentences more than once, and still I find they don't sink in. It's incredibly frustrating. But still, I read, for the distraction. After giving up on reading for the moment, I pondered my own experience with depression. I thought about times when I was doing well, and times when I was depressed but somehow managing it (i.e. for whatever reason, the depression was bearable). During these times I wasn't wandering around with nothing to do but feel the unbearable pain of being. I wasn't excruciatingly bored, wishing for a distraction to come along. I felt no deficit in my social life. I was quite content to watch tv. I was able to relax and be distracted.

Now, as my depression waxes and wanes, I experience persistent emptiness, boredom and loneliness. I am stuck in one hell of a rut, and it must be deep because I can't get out. I long for the time I had a vibrant social life. I have to ask: what happened there? Some friends moved away, some acquaintances I lost interest in. Plus, I no longer live in sharehouses, which involve near constant social interaction. What's left is four friends in Newcastle, none of whom initiate contact with me. One has a baby, two work full time, and the other has her own mental health problems and is a relatively new friend. Apart from the fact that I resent always having to be the one to organise get-togethers, it's hard to make the effort to do so when I'm depressed.

It's hard to admit to loneliness. It's even harder to tell someone about it. It seems so pathetic. I've asked myself if it's reasonable to feel lonely. After all, I have four friends, some new acquaintances, my boyfriend, and my boyfriend's family. My own family isn't that far away. But, maybe the problem is the lack of connection I feel with all these people. I just can't be that outgoing, talkative person I once was. For the first time in a long while, I feel shy and awkward. I'm at a loss for words most of the time. I feel blank, with nothing to say and unsure of how to actually have a conversation.

This strange inability to function socially reduces my motivation to even initiate social contact anymore. I just kind of gave up, gradually. And now I don't have much left in my life at all.

I've tried to think of what exactly has changed. I'm not trying to figure out why I'm depressed at this point, because according to my diagnosis it's biological. I'm trying to figure out why the quality of my depression has changed. Life was once bearable, and now it's a struggle to get through each day. I blame it on being in Newcastle, being unemployed, not knowing what I really want to do with my life, living in a crappy house, and having no social life. It's hard to see that a lot of the way I think and feel about these things is directly caused by the depression. It's my mind playing tricks on me. It makes everything seem uninteresting, meaningless and unenjoyable. It makes it feel impossible to change the things in my life which I attribute my depression to. Motivation is low, because I can't imagine getting any pleasure out of things.

I can blame depression on any of these things, but the fact is that I've been depressed in many different situations. Employed or unemployed, in Newcastle or Sydney, sure of what I want to study or not, nice house or crappy house, lots of social contact or none. Change might not make the depression go away, but it could make it more bearable.