Snapping out of a depressive episode is jarring at first. Something clicks into place and suddenly a wave of guilt threatens to drown me. Since I've been numb, I don't notice it at first, until memories of my behavior start sinking in.
The last three weeks have been hell — starting with Chloe's confession. With distance, I could see the trigger so obviously. I let myself get too invested with trying to help her, started feeling used, and instead of acknowledging that, I self-medicated with substances and fucked up my sleep. In my hypomanic state, I lashed out at Molly and detached from everyone, self-destructive.
The depression that followed was one of the worst I've ever had. The shame of missing work. Avoiding all of my friends. For once I'm thankful for Violeta's lack of boundaries. If she hadn't come when she did, who knows how long I would've been fucked up.
As I tidied my space, my thoughts wandered to how much I "should" feel guilty for versus not. Which gave me a headache. I hadn't been so active in days. I just wanted to give this decision to somebody else... but only somebody I trust, who wouldn't feel sorry for me, but would also be fair.
No comments:
Post a Comment