A few months ago, I came across an article regarding depression`s journey. It was written poetically and more importantly, inaccurately. Depression of course is very much subjective, I`ll admit that, but the author`s depression just seemed so typical and based on a student`s life and had a happy ending, which to me just seems like a random collection of bad days. This is my response to that:
The morning starts at around midnight; sleep almost enveloped me but then faded as my mind started to race again about the condition my room was in, my unpaid credit cards, and trying to focus on falling asleep so I can wake up early tomorrow to make it to Burger King before 10:30. Most fast food restaurants don`t even come close in breakfast; but for such a strong breakfast menu, they sure do come up short in everything else. My mindful tangent fades as I realize I`m now too hungry to sleep. I get up out of bed, ignoring the old reruns of Girls Gone Wild commercials on my television, and wander over to my liquor cabinet, or empty filing cabinet where my liquor bottles sit. An hour later, I find myself laughing at a sitcom I wouldn`t have found funny an hour ago.
I awake several times in the night not once for my alarm. As real morning approaches, I start to feel tired and actually fall asleep. I awake in the afternoon, already disappointed in myself for missing out on Burger King. I decide to go somewhere, but don`t because what`s the point. For hours, I fantasize about leaving my bed or my showerless bender "it all just seems so farfetched.
My instinct to sustain takes over and I finally get out of bed to eat something. I head to Arby`s for breakfast knowing very well that they don`t serve traditional breakfast items. While eating my breakfast roasted beef, I plan the day setting goals that are reachable and relevant. First on the list: eat an early lunch to get a jump start on things and store some energy. Why leave Arby`s at this point? After two more sandwiches, I go back home to start the second thing on my list, which at this point is partially forgotten because I didn`t write any of it down. Soon I notice its 3 in the afternoon and that wasn`t much of an early lunch. Upon reaching my bedroom, keeping in mind my second attainable goal which had something to do with cleaning my room, I go to the window to retract the blinds. After doing so, I turn back to the mess that is my room and thus indicative of my lack of organized structure in my life, soon forgetting the goal all together. I turn back to the window to redraw the blinds, crawl back into bed because of the carbo-loading at Arby`s, turn on the soundtrack to Black Hawk Down, and fight back the tears and gastrointestinal issues.
I awake around 7:43 p.m. The day is gone as is any motivation to find that short list of goals I made in my head, and actually wrote down in my dream. I start to question why I ever became a liberal arts major and wonder if I could live on my own working part time or if debt is just another matrix-esq form of control that will inevitably kill me indirectly with stress and PAD. As the night goes on, I become more and more stressed and soon I can`t swallow without blinking twice and start thinking about all my standard test scores from grade school, attempting to rationalize doing poorly on the written portions. I head back to the liquor cabinet, and soon I start to feel compassion and guilt toward characters in reruns of Step by Step, but before getting emotional I find soft-core porn to turn on. Immediately thereafter, I become disappointed again with myself and the movie.
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