An old journal entry on depression, uncertainty, and wanting someone to notice the weight you carry.
From the Attic
Originally written on May 1, 2021.
This entry reflects a particular moment in my life. I have kept its questions, contradictions, and unfinished thoughts close to the way they appeared then.
Content note: This entry contains references to depression, suicidal thoughts, hopelessness, and emotional distress.
Things have not been especially good lately,
but somehow I seem to be getting through them.
I definitely feel a little better after I sleep.
Then, after a while, the dark waves begin moving inside me again.
I cannot always explain exactly why.
Sometimes it is just one insignificant sentence,
and suddenly the wall I have barely managed to build against the waves feels as though it might collapse.
Most of the time, I laugh.
I eat well.
I sleep well.
From the outside, I probably look like someone living an ordinary life without any particular problem.
But there are moments when I can tell something is not quite right.
1. Whenever I think about the future. I am not particularly curious about it. I have trouble picturing myself in it.
2. Whenever people talk about marriage or finding a partner. I feel as though I will never meet someone like that. If even my family and friends cannot truly understand me, I sometimes think, Why would I add one more person to the burden?
3. When the thought that I want to die appears out of nowhere. Then another thought follows immediately:
You are still sitting here thinking things like this?
And I feel pathetic.
These moments have been coming more often lately, which worries me.
And yet I think I have become better at getting through them than I used to be.
So I fall into the complacent thought that perhaps I am fine.
After all,
I suffer like this,
and then a few days later I feel better again.
But will I ever become completely okay?
If things become unbearably difficult again this time,
I have seriously started thinking that maybe I should try medication.
Can someone like me really get better?
Sometimes I wish I could simply buy it the way I buy Advil.
But to get a prescription, I would have to sit in front of someone and show them the parts of myself I have kept at the bottom.
I would have to go through the exhausting process of explaining how bad it has been.
That thought makes me hesitate.
These days, I sometimes just want to stand in front of someone and plead,
“I want to live.”
I wish I knew why I feel this way.
Maybe knowing the reason would make it easier.
Am I pretending?
Am I making too much of everything?
I wish someone would notice the dark cloud I seem to carry above my head wherever I go.
Right now, I have nothing else to depend on but God.
Is that why I depend on Him?
Do I actually depend on God at all?
And there goes my mind again,
tangling itself into another knot.
Before it gets any more twisted and keeps me awake,
I will stop here.
That is all for tonight.
May 1, 2021
Why I’m sharing this
When I was going through this period, one of the few things that made me feel less alone was discovering that someone else had once felt something similar. I’m sharing this old entry for the same reason. Not because pain should be romanticized or explained away, but because sometimes simply being recognized can be a kind of comfort. If you found this because you are in a similar place, I hope these words make you feel a little less alone tonight.
