A modicum of catharsis

I’ve come to the realization that I’m not alright; that I’m far from okay despite all of my protestations to the contrary. As I write this, my depression is worse than I can ever remember it being. To say that I feel despair or sadness or ennui (like some pretentious douche bag) would presume that I feel anything at all. Increasingly, my approach to all things is simply “I can’t be bothered”. It’s not unusual for me to self-isolate, but I’ve never withdrawn to this extent. I’ve avoided my family. I haven’t seen my friends in months. And now even the Internet, my last refuge, seems to hold nothing for me. The people who exist only on my phone have, in the past, provided me with human interaction without the anxiety-inducing prospect of actually having to interact with them. Now, even the thought that is onerous. My entire existence now is confined to the space between work and my bed. At work, I function because I need to, but most of the time, I do little but go through the motions. At home, I do nothing but sleep and stare at one screen or another in a fugue until sleep comes or the time to leave for work arrives. Sex is something that may as well exist in a fantasy world; it too has been added to the things I can’t be bothered with. I have no more desire for it than I have desire for anything else.

I’m not suicidal. I have no urge to harm myself in any way. But I would like to feel again. As it is, I exist in one of two states at all times: completely anesthetized to my surroundings or completely overwhelmed in heart-crushing panic. I don’t know which I prefer because both are maddening but the panic is at least a novel experience while it lasts.

I’m not really certain what my purpose for writing this is. It’s not a cry for help, though I do believe I need help. Maybe in putting this down, I’m forced to face what this is in its entirety. The admission that I’m not okay is one that has always been difficult for me. I’ve always been the one to help others. That’s my profession. I take care of those around me. I’m not used to being the one who needs care. I’m hoping, at the very least, I will achieve a modicum of catharsis…