Depression Can Be A Real Bitch When She Wants To

I am sick of being depressed. I’m angry that I can be having a fine morning, with everything seemingly going my way and then WHAM! I am hit by a sudden wave of melancholy that knocks me backwards. I hate this unexpectedness that the illness has, this crazy suicidal feeling that follows a blissful few hours of thinking everything might actually be okay for once!

Today I am lonely.

I am facing the following week with that feeling of gut rot and sadness rolling throughout my entire body. I don't like being alone for extended periods of time as it is. But when a holiday rolls around, I find myself getting weepy at the thought of having no one to spend the day with. I am used to holidays full last minute cleaning and dusting, hurried showers as everyone cleans up 5 minutes before the guests arrive, a ton of hors d’oeuvres, never ending casserole dishes, dessert tables a mile long, people filling up small rooms and spilling out into the lawn, presents, special drinks with tropical names, sometimes a board game, and just this safe feeling that for that one day everyone is happy and healthy and all together in the same zip code.

I don’t have any of that (or even the remote possibility of it) this weekend and it’s causing me to sob uncontrollably. The last couple of holidays have threatened to be like that and it always gets me so down.

The child in me screams that all she wants for the Fourth is a brat smothered in mustard, some sparklers, to be able to wear her cute red dress, a piece of strawberry cake, and some quality companionship. But she isn’t going to get any of that. And she’s just as pissed as I am.

I won’t get to go to the Oregon Country Fair either because I’ll feel incredibly stupid with fairy wings on my back, trying to belly dance with a drink in one hand and my camera in the other, as I stand all by myself in the middle of the crowd. There is no way that I’m doing that event alone.

I keep trying to look at this from a pessimistic point of view: if I don’t expect that I will do anything at all, I shouldn’t be disappointed in the least. I got exactly what I expected. But sometimes that little sliver of optimism comes out during the holidays or when I get really excited about spending time with someone I love. When it doesn’t happen, that little sliver gets even smaller. Maybe one day it will disappear completely and I won’t have to worry about being let down by my ridiculous expectations to be happy once in a while.