
I used to think that it was impossible for me to remain in a state of unhappy for too long. This was way wayyyy before depression showed me that even my brightest days included the darkest shadows.
Now? Now I am of the opinion that some people are destined to never find happiness and maybe I am one of those people. Maybe the only reason I’m here is to document just how dark things can get for humans, in the hope that long after I’m gone, my memoirs and journals are found and people learn from my darkness to find their light. But who am I kidding? If I drop dead today, I’ll be replaced tomorrow and the cycle of life will continue. I will be long forgotten before my body drops to the ground. I am long forgotten even now.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. How does my depression fuel my drive? Well, it doesn’t, it cripples me. But depression has this cousin that always comes to the party uninvited. This cousin is anxiety and in case you were wondering, yes, I am the unwilling party that they both showed up to and never left. My anxiety reminds me every day that I am a piece of shit and unworthy of any iota of positivity. My anxiety, like a chain around my neck, demands that I pay it attention. It taunts me, begs me to take it off while squeezing tightly around my body till I am paralyzed. I can’t move, I can’t talk, I just want to lay in bed. My anxiety fuels my anger. Anger at myself, anger at my friends or lack thereof, anger at my family, anger at God. Oh, I’m very angry at God.
Now my anger, my anger fuels my drive. My anger, that constantly boils under my skin, eating me up from the inside, waiting patiently for me to one day lose control, waiting to make sure I lose the little I have. My anger drives me to work every morning, seating in the passenger’s seat is my pride and I’m in the back seat begging them to not cause a scene today, begging them to remember that I need my job as badly as I need my life. Reminding them that I never asked for a ride. I leave them in the car and run, I run into work and slam the door behind me, loud enough so they know they’re unwelcome to join me, loud enough so I convince myself that I can get through the day without them. And I struggle through the day, scared, worried, anxious, constantly glancing at the door, wondering if I should let them in. But I never do, not today and not ever. The drive home is silent, awkward.
“Why are you shutting us out, Itasoha?”
“We’re just trying to help, we’re only ever trying to help.”
I ignore them. I focus instead on figuring out how to explain to my family why I’m late home again, how to remind them that I am an adult and should be able to stay out as long as I want, how to beg them to let me live just a little. My life as it is is a ticking time bomb with my anxiety breathing down my neck, I don’t need them to do the same. I focus on how to tell them that I don’t really want to be there or here or anywhere, that quite simply I just don’t want to be. My anger can read my thoughts and once again fights with me to lose control, just this once, just a little. It bites and scratches and then it pleads and cajoles. I am positively stewing throughout my ride home, I worry I might lose control if I expose myself for too long. So I mutter a “good evening” when I get home and quickly retreat to my bedroom.
“Why doesn’t she ever come out of her room?”
“Why does she disrespect us?”
“What is wrong with her?”
What is wrong with me? I am drowning. I remember a time in my life when I hadn’t felt so heavy, when (and may I dare to say it?) I was happy, whatever happened to that girl? Who died and let me into her body? Am I too Me-focused? Maybe my job isn’t so bad, maybe people will kill to be where I am at right now but I can never appreciate it because I dwell too much on the negatives. Maybe my family loves me but I’m the problem because all I can think about is what I want. And what do I want? I don’t fucking know that but I know that whatever this existence that has been allocated to me is, I don’t want to have anything to do with it ever again. But like I said at the beginning, some people are destined to be unhappy all their lives and I, unfortunately, am one of them.
So how does negativity fuel my drive? It doesn’t. Negativity kills me.
