Depression

I am going to break my rule of my month long blogging challenge and post something personal. True, I already broke it with friday’s blog, and also true I didn’t post anything all weekend. So I suppose I’ve already failed. No matter.

This past weekend I spent probably 75% of it in bed. I watched the last few episodes of the show Humans that I had to watch of season 2 to get caught up, and ended around noon on Saturday. I didn’t feel like doing anything, watching anything, so I crawled into bed and I stayed there.

I left to eat dinner. I left to use the bathroom. I slept a lot, and when I didn’t sleep I laid with my eyes closed just thinking. I didn’t think about much of importance, mostly I thought about why I was feeling the way I was feeling. I debated cancelling my counseling appointment, then decided not to.

I spent a lot of time wondering if I was transgender. I’ve seen tons of videos on youtube and they all talk about gender dysphoria. I don’t get that. Yeah I hate my breasts, but do I hate them because of how massive they are? I hate my body, but is it for the same reason? Not because it’s a woman’s body, but because it’s fat and ugly? If I lost weight, would all of that go away or would I still be unhappy?

I purchased a couple men’s shirts. I got some axe bodywash and deodorant. I like the smell. I’ve always preferred the scent of men’s toiletries more than the overpowering floweryness of woman’s.  I’ve always liked the look of men’s clothes better than womans. I dislike dresses, skirts, trappy sandals, I think a woman in heels looks awful. Why does she torture herself? I can’t stand to look at feet in heels, they literally make me uncomfortable.  I hate the feeling of earrings in my ears. I hate makeup, I hate the feeling of it on my face, I hate having to be careful not to rub my eyes or touch my face lest I mess it up.  I hate my period, it hurts, it’s annoying, it’s expensive, painful, smelly, and awful. But what woman doesn’t hate her period. I never want kids, never want to be a mother.

But does all that make me transgender? And even if it does, is it worth it to actually transition? I could just wear the clothes I like, wear the deodorant I like, not wear makeup, keep my hair short the way I like it. Do I need to go so drastic as to change my name, take testosterone and grow a beard?

It wasn’t just these questions that kept me in a blanket burrito all weekend. I thought about how I never draw anymore, don’t write, I stopped playing ESO just when Gandalf was getting into it with me and getting into RP. He purchased a month of ESO plus so he could tweak his character’s appearance and be ready for RP. We were supposed to do the DLC together while he had it. I haven’t been on in several days, weeks maybe. I ditched him.  And I ditched him yesterday when we were supposed to have our movie night. Didn’t text him and say I wasn’t feeling up to it, didn’t notify him at all. Just stayed in bed.

This morning when the alarm went off I considered calling in sick, spending a third day in bed. But I got up, got dressed, uses my axe body wash, put on the men’s shirt I got at Walmart, packed my lunch and am now waiting to go to work. But I still feel listless, tired, sad.

Transgender or not, I hope the counselor can help me with whatever this is. I want to write, I want to read, I want to draw and sculpt again. I want to be me. I want to know who I am and what I want. I’m so tired of just sitting in front of my computer watching shows and youtube and doing nothing else.

But even then I wonder if I am depressed. I don’t hurt myself. I will admit to thinking of suicide, but I’d never go through with it. I fear the oblivion that comes with death. I fear the pain it will cause my mother. I fear that difficulties I would leave behind. My debt would become their debt, my things would become their burden. So my thoughts of such actions are always in a “I could never do that” kind of way, but I imagine just thinking about it is bad. But as I said, I don’t cut myself. I don’t cry. I cry when I have something to cry about, but this whole weekend wrapped up in bed I didn’t cry. I don’t get angry and lash out, I don’t do anything. I doubt if I told anyone I was depressed they’d believe me, because I am quick to smile in public, I laugh, I talk, even if I tend to refuse offers to go out. I still present myself as happy, a bit sarcastic and maybe arrogant, but happy.

I just wish I knew how to move past this. How to fix it.

Who am I? What do I want? What will make me happy? These are the questions I thought about all weekend, lying in bed. I haven’t answered a single one.

And I don’t even feel sad… I feel blank. I feel like nothing. I feel like no one. There is no sadness, so happiness, no anger, no joy. Just a mind full of nothing but tired and bored and deflated like a balloon losing it’s air. If I could just get away with spending all day in bed I would.

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