Hope Contagium

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

Tag: help

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

I want a reason…

I want a reason for my existence. There is none. I’ll have to make it up if I want one and when I do it won’t feel convincing. I’ve made up reasons before but I haven’t been able to hold on to them. Is recognition enough for your will of living? Is it a reason? It is completely uncomprehending how lucky I am to have Levin. No wonder I dream of a future with him and always have since we found each other. Lately I’ve been so happy with him or should I say exceptionally joyful of having him by my side; of knowing him. That might be the closest I’ve yet been to true happiness: the love I feel for him. The love and recognition he feels for me. But right now it only helps me survive, it doesn’t help me live. Besides, we’re only friends now.

%d bloggers like this: