In which I despond unbearably

I feel awful.  I don’t know what’s wrong, exactly.  It’s like a sudden, extremely intense depression.  Everything aches.  I move in slow motion.  My face in the mirror horrifies me.   I feel hostility from everyone around me in the real world,  indifference from everyone online.  Everything seems to make it worse.  I don’t know what caused it; I’ve had depressive episodes but nothing that ever began so abruptly.  I’m actually sitting here blaming myself for being so weak that I let this happen, though I don’t even know how it happened or why.

I am still choking on film writing project.  I’ve put it aside for now as it was overwhelming, but I still feel it gnawing away at me.  For some reason I can still do paintings, and I am more productive at that than usual.  It is one of the few things that don’t make my condition worse, though they don’t help in any way either.  I finish them, they seem satisfactory to me, but I don’t feel good about them.  I don’t feel good about anything.

I don’t even want to write this, because it’s whiny.  And now I’m angry at myself for being whiny.

I haven’t jumped the rails of reality or anything.  I’m not hallucinating or hearing voices.   I am just suddenly overwhelmed by the meaninglessness of life.

3 thoughts on “In which I despond unbearably

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