Hope Contagium

A therapy journal of self-obsession, depression and meaning.

Tag: depression

Moving Forward

Oh sweet relief! I have become better at letting go of the distressing feeling of remorse. I can fairly quickly ease my self-hatred. I am moving forward.

L’existence est Difficile

The days gone by have been entirely different. Covered by negative energy, I haven’t had so much fun and laughter in ages. I haven’t felt more appreciated by others or more satisfied with myself than I have these last couple of weeks.

Hide From the World

It was good to sleep. The anxiety is gone for now, but the depression is here. Though I do feel anxiety every time I think about going back to work. It feels unbearable that life is so difficult for me… And others who are troubled, of course. I know I’m not the only one to feel this way. I still think about suicide often. And sometimes I just wish I could be hospitalized again. Lately more than usual. I would be looked after and I could hide from the world. I wouldn’t have to lead a life. I know there are happy moments but I hate those as well. Because I know I’ll be depressed again; and even though I enjoy them while they are there, I despise them in times like these. I hate myself for being happy. For letting myself feel joy. Every bad thing that happens I hate myself for. So much self-hatred. Even now I know this is a message to nobody; there is no receiver at the other end. So my words will echo empty and I’ll keep counting down the minutes of my loneliness.

Loser of Life

I’m overflown with the feeling of hopelessness. Suddenly I see no future in myself. I give up constantly. Why? I don’t understand why I have this helplessness in me. I could do everything and anything once. So may possibilities, so many choices. Now I feel like nothing. Like I’ve lost in life. I’m just no good…

Fear of Future

I’ve become so strong. But still I feel so weak. Maybe I’ll become even stronger, maybe life will get even better. I just can’t help but be afraid that these things will never happen. I’m so afraid and still depressed. Can I not be satisfied? Do I not have the willpower?

The End

All this confusion. Why am I with this person? Better to be with someone than to be alone, I guess. We’re not even really together. And dreams don’t come true. Except maybe with Levin. Or maybe I just made them come true with him. I want to skip forward to a time where I’m not confused. Where I have a purpose. A person I love. Who loves me. A memory to keep forever. Strength built from one another. A family. Then I’ll stay there as long as possible. Maybe I’ll fast forward to yet another place in my life where I’m at rest and have a smile on my face. Will there be any place I would want to stay? ‘Cause finally, after experiencing those short happy moments… I can reach the end. Where no worries are found, no doubts, no unknowns. Just the moment where you let go.

Intimacy

Once in a while I remember her soft skin and our kisses. It’s a secret though, because it’s all in the past. It was a different intimacy than I’ve ever experienced with any other – with any men. It was so gentle and equal. Even if we fought like no other, were confused about it all, were frustrated and inexperienced, it was still special. Because it was so different, foreign, and new to us both. It built up from somewhere unknown – that was the beauty. Neither of us knew what we were doing. So many tears were spilled, so much spite thrown at the other… I still feel the specks of passion in us and the sense of affection towards her. I still look at her with curiosity and see her wonder.
Longing for a better ending, for a better now, frightful of our lost future, I do accept the turn of events. The whole memory is unclear; I’ve forgotten all the whys, hows, and whos. But I clearly remember that soft skin and her kiss.

Falling Over

I remember during depression how, after an attempt of getting up from the bed, I landed in awkward and uncomfortable positions. Because I didn’t have enough energy to simply shift my position, instead I just collapsed. I remember a certain amount of stubbornness and tenacious patience in me connected to these collapses. I was stubborn in my despondency and patient because of my endurance of the gradual pain growing in me from the position my body had landed in. I just hoped and waited for help to come…

Virginia Woolf’s Depression

If left to herself, she would have eaten nothing at all and would have gradually starved to death. It was extraordinarily difficult ever to get her to eat enough to keep her strong and well. Pervading her insanity generally there was always a sense of some guilt, the origin and exact nature of which I could never discover; but it was attached in some peculiar way particularly to food and eating. In the early acute, suicidal stage of the depression, she would sit for hours overwhelmed with hopeless melancholia, silent, making no response to anything said to her. When the time for a meal came, she would pay no attention whatsoever to the plate of food put before her. I could usually induce her to eat a certain amount, but it was a terrible process. Every meal took an hour or two; I had to sit by her side, put a spoon or fork in her hand, and every now and again ask her very quietly to eat and at the same time touch her arm or hand. Every five minutes or so she might automatically eat a spoonful.

 – A description of Virginia Woolf’s depression, from Leonard Woolf’s diary (Virginia Woolf: 1882-1941)
With gratitude to The Noonday Demon by Andrew Solomon

No Escape

I dreamed that my friend took me to see a therapist. He wanted me to talk to someone about my pain. He wanted to get me help. When I asked why he did this, he started crying and saying he couldn’t bear helping me anymore. It was too tough on him.
What was worse, is, that the guy I’m dating was with us. He had to sit through the session and listen to all my secrets. He had to know what a mess I was and how I burdened others with my being.
Even in sleep, where you might think you’ll find peace, you can’t run away from yourself. I think my friend in the dream symbolized Levin. The fact that my date was there probably means that I’m scared of showing him what I’ve been through. Who I once was. I’m not even that depressed anymore and I don’t lean on Levin as much as I used to. But my dreams won’t let me forget my past and what I have done. The strange thing is that I felt closer to my date after this dream. I felt more secure. Which is silly, since none of it really happened…

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