Josh and Depression Vs. The World: Day 78

I really struggled to get out of bed today. And I can’t help but wonder if I am only making things worse by talking about this. But what is the alternative? I deny it? Or I go get help. I’ve tried getting help before, and I always end up back here.

The only thing that seems to work is to just keep going. Or, rather, keep trudging. The hardest thing now is pretending to be fine around other people – because if I don’t pretend to be fine, something horrible like a conversation about it could happen. And let me tell you, the last thing I would want to get sucked into is a conversation with somebody who is depressed. I know. I’m the one who has found myself talking my head off – and for what purpose? To what end? It never helps.

Even Facebook doesn’t want to hear it. Facebook will only show the first few sentences and then the words “see more.” And in many cases, that “see more” is something of a dare to the reader.

I think I’ll be better once absolutely nothing brings me joy. There are still a few things I enjoy right now, and that’s really holding me back. Once I can release myself into the absolute abyss of hopelessness, then maybe things will look up.

It’s the middle of the day, and as I write this, I find myself dozing off – falling asleep – I think it’s a defense mechanism – there’s something I don’t want to face. What is it?

I’m a failure.

The only good news is that I seem to be more and more ok with failing on a daily basis, and occasionally, something successful happens (only because there is no God. If there were, my failure would be more orderly and consistent). And that is life. Failure and occasional moments of synchronicity.

Am I being fair to myself when I say that I am a failure? I suppose it depends upon how I define success. The same way everybody else defines success. Being good at stuff and making money at it. That’s success. If I were any good at anything, I’d be making way more money.

If I tell myself that I am a failure, then I will be a failure.

If I tell myself that I am a success, then I will be a failure in denial.

If I tell myself that “if I keep working at it, I will be a success one day,” then I’m a failure with hope.

And that is my life right now – vacillating between being a hopeless failure and a hopeful failure.

What fuels hope? What is the root of it? Is it a lie? Or is it simply the expectation of positive brain stimulation. A “good” thing happens and it presses the “happy” button in the brain. Is that all it is? But does the happy button mean anything? Does it last? Is it worth striving for?

I’ve been angry at everyone around me, and at life, and at the world. But what have I done to help? How have I been better? I am a failure.

But it’s always important, in times of these personal revelations, to maintain a sense of humor.

True, I may be a failure, but at least I’m not the kind of person who tries to make casual conversation with the baristas at Coffee Bean when they clearly are busy. I may be a failure, but at least I’m not a monster.

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