Then imagine knowing its not real, but not being able to do anything about it. That's how I face every day in my mind. I've most recently come to have anxiety issues when leaving the house. I have lived in the same house in the same town since the day I was born. I grew up here, went to school here. Had my first time of everything here. Had my last times of things here. I've had my best times here, and I've had my worst times here. I've had my most heartbreaking moments here, my most embarrassing moments here. My funniest moments, my happiest moments. Everywhere I look this place has memories, and right now they are memories I can't cope with.
I've taken to turning down any friends ideas to go for drinks, go shopping, cinema, anything. I only go out in the middle of the day when everyone I know will be at work. And then I keep my hood up, or I keep looking down at the floor. I run in and out of the buildings I need to go to, and then I walk home avoiding the main high road. I purposefully don't make eye contact with anyone, and when I get home I have to sit and relax for a moment while hoping to god that no one I know saw me. I can't relax until I know I've made it in and out of the house without being seen again.
But what am I actually scared of seeing? I'm scared of seeing the people involved in the events that lead to my breakdown. I'm scared of seeing people I knew when I was at my best and having to explain what happened to them. I'm scared of seeing people who know of me, but I don't actually know of them, in some situations those people had more of a say in things about myself than I did. (Bitter Rosie comment I know. I knew she was still in there somewhere, and I'm pleased about that, so I'm going to acknowledge I shouldn't have said that but leave it in anyway.)
It's feels like I'm walking around with a neon lit sign above my head that declares in capital letters I AM DEPRESSED. LOOK AT ME. It feels so obvious and heavy to me every day that I find it hard to believe that no one else can see it. When I look in the mirror and see the pale tone to my skin, or the dullness in my eyes. Just the utter disinterest I have in life, I can't imagine how no one else can see it. But the thing is I don't want people to see it, so at the same time it feels like I've become a master of deception. Like I've said in other posts I've been hiding this for a long time, and I thought I'd lost the ability to do that anymore.
The other day I went back to the doctor (I'm now on a repeat prescription of Fluoxetine, back in 8 weeks to see how the dosage is going) and I went in to the room and purposefully didn't say how bad I was still feeling. I made out that I was sleeping and eating again, and I was starting to see a point in things. I told a joke, I smiled and I laughed. I managed to look him in the eye, and not cry. I basically managed to pull off an Oscar winning performance in there. I've gotten really good at saying things, and then saying something after it that covers up what I've said, like I'm trying to make it impossible for people to pick holes in what I'm saying or doing by doing that myself.
I'm not really sure what the point to this post was. It's 11.04pm and I've just taken my Fluoxetine, so when that kicks in I end up with a few hours where I can just about control my thoughts enough to calm down and go to sleep. Right now my brain is still going. All I can think about is how much I miss some people and places, and wonder how the hell my life became what it is. Blogging isn't really working tonight, the more I open up on this the more I'm opening the door to my thoughts that I'm trying to close.
Good night guys.