April 29th, 2008 at 02:44pm
It seems mildly odd to me that I can write about this here, addressed to nobody in particular, on a public blog which will be indexed by Google within the next few hours and be very difficult to ever completely remove from the Internet, and yet I have avoided mentioning this to anybody else, even completely omitting it from the list of things that happened on the weekend when asked by people I can confide in.
I hesitate to use the word “major” in front of “depressive episode” because I don’t think it quite fits the clinical definition…it was an episode, a fairly serious one, but I’m not prepared to call it “major”. What am I talking about? The events of Sunday morning around 4:30. I don’t remember the exact time, but what I do remember is that in the space of about five minutes, and for no apparent reason, I went from being in a relatively good mood, to being depressed enough to have to fight off the urge to visit a publicly accessible building of suitable height.
In the end, the best thing I could do was make myself go to bed and sleep. It took a long time to get to sleep, but I felt a little bit better when I awoke. I didn’t really fully come out of the depressive episode until late last night, and to be perfectly honest I’m not entirely sure that I’m over it yet, but I suppose I can be pleased with the fact that certain buildings don’t seem as appealing as they once did.
As I said, this all happened for no apparent reason…perhaps I’d just been un-depressed for too long, considering that I had a relatively good week and it had been a week or so since I noticeably felt depressed, it’s a workable theory. Otherwise I’m confused. I like to understand things, and the fact that I can’t understand why I suddenly took a nose-dive on Sunday morning concerns me. Will I finally seek professional help, probably not. Should I be seeking professional help? Most likely, but how exactly do I force myself to do so when I would rather not have any interaction with any human being while I’m depressed, and I don’t seem to want help when things are going well?
If there is one thing I seem to be very good at, it’s getting myself in to situations that I just can’t manage. I count three of them at this point in time, two of them are my own fault, and one of them (this one)…well I wouldn’t be surprised if it has something to do with the other two…in fact I’m almost certain it’s related to at least one of them, but now I’m being intentionally vague and defeating the purpose of writing this publicly. This article is long enough…and once again, writing like this has been mildly therapeutic.
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