I am fed up of hearing that I am too pretty to be depressed. Or that I am too strong. Or that I have a beautiful life. Like I chose it. Like it was even a choice to make. I know these things. People always ask what happened. Life happened. Or what changed. I know what triggered it. I knew I was going to be triggered. I am an intelligent individual. I saw this coming. I saw my rhythm about to be upset. I knew I had been pretending. I knew that if you moved me, I could not continue pretending for long. People ask why are you sad or unhappy. If I were those things, I would deserve to be. But I am not. I am nothing. I am completely empty and unfulfilled. Like someone switched my brain off. Like the smart left me. Like I do not know what is going on anymore. Like I am completely disconnected.
I lied to the doctor today. When she asked about illegal substances. When she asked about relationships. She had enough information to know that I needed help. So I left it. I left it at my brain has stopped working and I mostly know why but I do not how or how to control it. I know that my past is filled with explanations. I also know that not everyone with mental health illnesses has straightforward reasons. For some, it is just brain chemistry with no logic. So I do not go into much detail about the why. The main point is that I moved and it changed me. I know more than most. I know when and how to get the help I need.
I do not know exactly what will help me. I do exercise to help. I eat well. I try to sleep and keep some sort of a routine. I have had counselling. Many counsellors. I have amazing people in my life. I have good surroundings. A happy life to an outside eye. That is the problem with depression though. You are disconnected. You see and recognise, but cannot feel. I cannot feel good. I cannot feel loved. I do not know how to achieve anything. Just nothing. Feeling nothing. Doing nothing. It is awful. It is even worse when I feel better and realise the difference. I wonder why I get that way, but it is all science and that is not something I understand.
Hopefully the psychiatrists can help. I will get through this. It will be over soon. Although now, it feels as though I have always felt and been this way. Maybe I have not. I remember being happy. I remember nothing bothering me. I remember a full spectrum of emotions. It will get better. At least that is what I tell myself. Hopefully it is true.