Safely cradled by depression once more

I’ve realised these notes here on my blog will only ever be dark, wistful notes of longing. A journal of depression perhaps. I only write in it when I’m at my lowest ebb, it seems, so maybe it’s encouraging that there are so few posts to read, and encouraging that there are such big gaps between them.

I’m back. Back into the darkness, safely cradled by depression’s warm, comforting blanket of rigidity. It is one of the most inexplicable feelings that I’ve come across, how painful the depression is and yet how comforting. It’s familiar and safe; the low is so drastically severe, a feeling so unique and stark, that it can only serve to amaze me at its power. I guess in some ways I’m at its mercy, which is rather pathetic.

All of this, of course, is complete rubbish. Yes it does feel comfortable in a blankety sort of way, but surely I’m just excusing myself. Or something.

It’s been going on for about six weeks or so, gradually declining with each day and feeling more and more helpless and worthless. All I think about these days is running away on my own to a foreign city, where I’ll sit in a cafe and write things like this. Just write. Observe and write. I can’t cope with the pressures and stress of my job, which in itself is an irony as it’s undoubtedly my dream occupation. There’s not a lot of hope for the man who, presented with his dream, can’t handle either the good side or the flip.

So, what have I done? I’ve done what I never thought I would and written down, on five sheets of A4, my goals. I have demanded the cosmos to order them to me. I do feel oddly relieved or enlightened for having admitted five of my most pressing desires (love is first. Financial security and ridding myself of debt second. The other three, well, no need to publicise them here). I am a big believer in positive thinking, but the worst practitioner: most of my thoughts are negative, grey, looking back at the past and not enough to the future. I’m too cynical, too envious of other people’s happiness – and look at me as a result. I’m a mess, and a sad, pathetic one at that too.

I can’t just flick a switch and make me positive, make me think happily and positively. But that’s exactly what I need to do if I’m ever to balance my life or achieve what I want to.

Right now, I just want to curl up and never wake up again. If I don’t, and if my family ever reads this, I love you both more than I could ever express.