Monthly Archives: March 2015

I Don’t Care

i don't care

If you’ve ever had depression you know not just the feelings of complete and utter hopelessness and sadness it gives you but the feeling of indifference. The lack of ability to care about anything can be just as debilitating as the deep dark sadness itself. I have things going on. Things that range from semi-important to crucial and I just don’t have the ability to care about any of them right now.

Don’t get me wrong it’s not that I don’t want to care, it’s that I can’t. I know I should care but the depression has gotten to it’s all too familiar point of numbness. Depression really is different than sadness and I wish people would stop comparing the two. I know we are nowhere near that point but it would be nice if people would realize that if I could think my way around this I would.

It’s gotten to the point now where I am considering ECT once again. The first round was cut short due to the memory loss, but that seems to have resolved itself and, you know what? If I have to live with a bad memory to not feel like I’m walking around dead inside I’ll do it, because that’s just how I feel. Totally dead inside.

I’ve even researched a procedure called a cingulotomy. That’s a surgery where they take out a piece of your brain. Not sure if this would even be available to me here in Nova Scotia but again, if I have to lose a piece of my brain to feel halfway decent it might be worth it.

This feeling of numbness, hopelessness and despair every minute of every hour of every single fucking day is taking its toll. I can’t do the things I want and need to do. It was bigger things at first but now even little things seem like a monumental task. Showering, cleaning, playing with my son etc. All of these things I used to do feel like they are marathons now. Getting up every day is getting harder and harder.

Remember the scene from Star Wars where they are trapped in the trash compactor, grabbing anything and everything that they can to brace the walls that are closing in? It kind of feels like that, only I don’t have a Wookie or Han Solo to help me (not that they were of any use in the movie either). It feels like that with the exception of I’d just be standing there unable to care that I’m about to be squished.

Hopefully I can find a solution before someone takes out the trash.



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