Wednesday, June 09, 2010
i'm getting this familiar feeling --
-- of feeling totally limp, unable. Where even walking is like dragging a boulder up a scraggly hill. It is so familiar, because this is how it feels, and felt, when I had to stop working a full-time job because of my depression because I simply couldn't do
things. It doesn't feel too sad now, because I'm on my meds, but somehow this waft of inability to be ambulatory just comes along now and it feels so familiar, it scares me.
Shouldn't I be better by now? My depression seems to be chronic, like dysthymia, never really coming to an end proper, like a 100-episode long Chinese drama that is full of rubbish and anger and stupidity. My recovery is like a leopard-crawl I did when I was at home alone once and fainted; when I came to somewhat, I crawled with my forearms to the telephone to call J for help. Inch by inch and every inch takes so much more effort than normalcy would dictate. This time round my depressive episode is lasting many more years than the first one I knew of, not counting the childhood ones which I don't even know count as what. It is no longer an episode. It feels like Prozac Nation - dysthymia and the constancy of it.
Maybe I will really have to be on my meds for a lifetime, like some people. I hope I feel up and perky soon. But I know that for a long time I will not be able to work a full-time job again simply because of such days as today, when I simply fall flat face down on the table when I try to get going to start my teaching (no, my student wasn't around to witness that, I told her and the others scheduled for today that I can't teach today). It was at that moment, when my face felt the coldness of the marble-top table, that I realised this feeling of being nearly immobile felt so familiar