Note: These are notes I’ve scribbled over the years. I just wanted to assure everyone I am ok, and just felt it time they saw the light of day … in the hope that they make a difference to someone. Being Mental Health Week, I thought now was a good time 🙂
Conversations with Depression, in which Depression appears to be Me …
Depression: I want to die.
Me: What? What do you mean? You wish you were dead?
D: No. I said I want to die.
Me: Why? Like, well, what for?
D: I just want to die.
Me: But things are cool. Things are good. Things are working out. Ok, not great, maybe, but they’re not bad.
D: Just grab that knife. It’ll be easy. Just do it. Straight up the wrist. You know how it’s done.
Me: No. Wait. What? I don’t get it. Why do you want to die?
D: You ever crave chocolate? How about those dumplings you had in China? You crave them. I know you do. You’re good for craving wine, too. Pretty much nightly, yeah?
Me: WTF? What does that have to do with it?
D: Why do you crave them? Why do you just have to have some? There and then.
Me: I dunno. Sometimes I just really feel like them.
D: Sometimes I really feel like I just want to be dead.
Me: Riiiiiight. But, you know, death is kinda final. I can have a bit of chocolate or a glass of wine. You can’t decide to stop death once your craving is satisfied. It’s, well, it’s just it.
D: HAHAHAHA Yeah, just like you can ‘stop’ drinking your wine. Fucking loser.
Me: I still don’t get it.
D: I want to die just like you want dumplings. It’s not that hard a concept to get. I crave it! What more explanation do you need than that? GET THE FUCKING KNIFE!
A New Job
Depression: Heard you got a new job today?
Me: Yeah! I’m so freaking excited about it! I cannot wait to get stuck into it; all these ideas I have and I can now do something about them.
D: Heh. Why’d they pick you?
Me: Cos, I can do it? Because I have all they need and I can do it. Can’t I?
D: Bullshit to them, did you? Talked yourself up?
Me: No, well, I dunno. Maybe … maybe, I … NO!
D: You’re such a fucking fraud! You’ve bullshitted and now you’re going to fucking let them down, too. You’re such a bitch. Fucking loser.
Me: No! NO! I can do this. I can. I have all the skills, I have the ideas. I can do this. I didn’t lie … I can do it.
D: You’re only taking it on because you have to. Fucked up everything else. Look what you’ve done to your husband. Your family. How much of a burden you are on them. You’ve talked yourself into believing you’re doing a good thing. “Making a difference” you say. Think you’re setting a good example to the kids, too, don’t you? Loser.
Me: No, it’s not. It’s not like that. This is right … this feels right.
D: You’re a fraud and a failure and you’re just gonna fuck this up to.
Me: I just … no … maybe … I don’t know.
Depression: Making a coffee, huh?
Me: Yeah. And a tea for Grumpy. I’m nice like that.
D: You know you shouldn’t be drinking that shit?
Me: Whatevs. It’s not like I have that many vices. It’s not like I even have that much. It’s instant for fuck’s sake.
D: Loser. You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?
Me: What do you mean?
D: Take a look in the cups, fuckwit.
Me: What … oh, fuck (a teabag, two teaspoons of coffee and a teaspoon of sugar in one cup, nothing in the other, boiling water added already)
D: HA! You’re such a loser! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Me: I … fuck it. It’s ok … it’s easy fixed, I think (my confidence wanes considerably)
D: You know what’s funny? You – YOU – think you can be a mother. You can’t even make a fucking cup of tea and you think you can raise children! That. Is. Fucking. HILARIOUS!
Me: I sink to the floor and sob. Maybe you’re right ….