I had a depressive episode finally. So I had gone largely dark. Some friends I was still in touch with. And I bet most of them had no idea I was, AM experiencing something of a depressive episode. I was, am, whatever. It wasn’t the worst I’ve had. In fact, it played a lot of new tricks on me.
I don’t really want to get into specifics. It was rough. Much rougher than I let on. I still can’t shake this feeling that I’m going to die soon. I find it soothing. Like, all of my problems, real or imagined, can just be gone like that. I don’t want to die necessarily. I certainly have no plans to be the instrument of my own parting. But I just can’t get free from it.
I tried to write several times. I read and reread and reread posts of my positive energy. I read all the things that made me happy. None of it worked. It all felt like some cruel joke. Like that was some me that was kidding his self. Even writing this now? It’s laborious. I want to finish it, as a testament to me coming out of this ok. But it’s tempting to just save this as another draft and never look at it again.
I started wondering though. Is this really how life is when I’m “good”? Is it just that depression waiting to creep up on me? I stopped working on my projects. I fell off the grid for a bit for some friends. I played games to distract myself. It worked… somewhat.
But this thought of death just keeps coming back. Like some ultimate intuition.
Maybe I’m just done here for the day. I’ll post this out of more obligation than anything. Maybe I’ll write something good soon, we’ll have to wait and see.