Living alone diaries #23; life update

I’m not sure how long this entry will be because I’m not feeling my best, and I’m just writing this because I don’t want to break my streak.

This week has been long and difficult, more difficult than average, omo.

I think I have a depressive disorder.

Of course, its not diagnosed and I don’t know for sure, but everything that I’ve been feeling and all the research I’ve done really tally up to the same conclusion; I might actually be clinically depressed.

As I’m writing this it feels like I’m having an out of body experience, like how can this be a possibility for me? And why am I sharing this on the internet?

The answer to the first is unknown, but to the second, I guess I just don’t really care? This is supposed to be a journal, innit?

Anyways, if you’ve been reading this for some time, you know I’ve suffered from feelings of emptiness for the past few months now, and as time went on and I tried to navigate my emotions with intelligence, I think I’ve come to realize that maybe somethings are bigger than I am, and its time to actually sit down and look at the problem.

Prior to this, I’ve never had anything that I construed as a depressive episode before, even though really bad times. I know that I’ve dealt with intense sadness before, but this…this feels like a yawning chasm, like a void is slowly eating my life away.

One really sad thing is feeling like I’m alone in all this.

You already know I feel no connection to my blood family, and I feel no sense of support or kinship from or towards them. The strongest connection is financial.

Anyways, I didn’t realize how upsetting this could be, till I realized that I don’t have a single family member that I feel comfortable discussing these feelings with, and I know that if I ever did bring this up with my parents, they would deal with it in the same way a lot of parents would, most especially my mom; religious ignorance. My father probably just wouldn’t care in general.

When I had my hypertension scare, he called a grand total of one time, and we haven’t spoken about my health ever since.

I’m not hurt about this, like I would have been maybe a year ago. When someone repeatedly shows you who they are, you start to pay attention, innit?

I’m just saying all this so you, gentle reader, have context, and understand where I’m coming from.

Being alone — not just physically — is truly the worst feeling I have ever felt and its what made me ruminate over my lack of support/family and all.

So yeah, I’m actually proud of myself for writing this, because I genuinely didn’t think I was going to be able to write a whole paragraph when I started this.

That’s another thing; the most mundane, basic things are ten times harder; getting up from bed, doing dishes, reading a book, going to work, taking baths, even eating, I have almost zero interest in.

One of the reasons why I didn’t want to publicly talk about this is because I don’t want anyone debating my emotions with me; no, I am not just “sad”, no this is not a plot for attention or pity, or me trying to be cool or edgy or quirky. Another thing, for the love of God (ironic statement in this context), don’t bring any religious bull to me. Don’t tell me to connect with God or to pray my emotions away, because you won’t even be met with a response.

I have zero patience for that kind of rubbish.

But one of the reasons I started this series was because I wanted to keep an account of my feelings and experiences, and making it public would keep me accountable, so here I am, showing off my backside.

Okay, I’m done now.