I hate to write this during the holiday season, but I wanted to lay it down while everything is fresh.
My thoughts today are black. I anticipated going to church and bible study this morning, but I slept through it all. I just felt too tired and worn down. All my emotional energy has been beaten out of me. Life has won, and I have lost. I feel sad, unmotivated, guilty, disappointed, reclusive, and ashamed. Living a satisfying life is forever barred to me and there is no use to continue trying. In other words, I am depressed.
What comes to the forefront of my thinking is that I need help but cannot ask. After all, I am blessed to have faith, family, food, shelter, clothing, transportation, and health care all available to me. There are unfortunates in the world, my country, my state, and my community living without these necessities. How dare I feel sorry for myself when my life is filled with such blessings! So again, I need help but cannot ask.
I am a guardian and caregiver to an adult special needs daughter. Like me, she suffers with ASD, depression, and anxiety. She just seems to withdraw from society to a larger degree than I do. She can also be emotionally fragile, so I certainly cannot burden her to witness my frailties. I must continue presenting myself as a strong person, regardless of what I feel. So again, I need help but cannot ask.
I don’t really have any family members to share problems with. It just doesn’t feel proper to transfer my issues onto family. Way too uncomfortable for me. So again, I need help but cannot ask.
I no longer have any friends to talk to. When I moved away from the area where I grew up, I failed to maintain contact with my few close friends. Now, thanks to ASD and lingering depression, I have been woefully unsuccessful in making any new friends. So again, I need help but cannot ask.
I cannot think of any health care professional able to provide me with prompt care. I already have a psychiatrist and therapist and see them regularly. When I try to contact them at a time other than a scheduled appointment, I get a standard recording of, “If this is an emergency call 911 or go to the closest emergency room…” From past experience, ERs only want to deal with you if there is a likelihood of harm to yourself or others. And, if this is the case, you will be admitted to the psych ward for treatment. Not an option for me. I have a daughter to care for. So again, I need help but cannot ask.
I desire to enter an intensive outpatient treatment, but can not because I need to work during the day. I want to tie one on, but this is an absolute no-no! Addiction problems linger in my past. With four plus years of sobriety under my belt, I will never touch another drink. Not for the rest of my life! Maybe some intimacy and cuddling with another will help. Well, there is no “other”. I am alone.
In conclusion, there is no help coming. Now, if I was reading the above statements about another person, I could easily refute all of them with logic. But, those statements ARE about me! There is nothing left inside but despair. I am an empty set of clothes walking around, without purpose, without happiness, without hope. It does not matter what happened yesterday, or what will happen tomorrow. Today, I am worthless.
And that is depression!