I’m high-functioning, or so says my therapist. I find that insulting for some reason. But she’s right, I know the face I should use to correspond with anything someone is saying to me. But I feel nothing. Nothing but lost and overwhelmed with disgust for myself. I go to work. I go to school. I go to Walmart. I go home and take care of my kids. I hang out with my husband. I go through all the motions, feeling a quiet despair.
I’m tired of going to the doctor. I’m tired of new medications and the feeling that I’m just complaining. I’m tired of not being able to find one that fits and will help me master this and feel some joy. I guess I’m just tired.
What I would like you to know is when someone says they are depressed, take them seriously. It’s not a dark cloud or a bad day. I have no intentions of ending my life, but I hate the thought of 50+ more years feeling like this. I want you to know that motherhood is wonderful, but lonely. I want you to know that I feel like a failure everyday. I want you to know that I’m holding out hope that eventually I might feel better…someday.