Don’t know where to go from here

THE BREAKDOWN

Third night in a row with little to no sleep

Frustrated thoughts raging beneath a happy exterior breaking free

Like a shroud thrown over thoughts a blanket falls over my mood

The temporary refuge of suicidal thoughts

No longer a retreat but now a permanent residence

Willing myself to keep going through the motions

Because this dreadful agony of constricting despair

Ebbs and flows

And judging by the well known pattern it’s been months

So

By now it should be easing up

But it’s not

So I drink

Maybe it’s unhealthy but it’s the only thing that makes me want to wake up in the morning sometimes

But only sometimes

The motivation to seek help pushed along by the long held fear

Of feeling like this ten years from now

So I do

I reach out for help.

THE TESTS

A series of frank questions that follow one another

Fired like bullets from a machine gun

Rapid-fire

Being asked to divulge information

Previously only written down in hidden journals

Staccato hum of the blood rushing in my ears

Accompany the soul-crushing weight of my responses

To the question

“What do you hope to get from treatment?”

I answer, “relief”

The series of questions is followed by a battery of tests

Questionnaires and coordination trials and answering the same questions in different ways

A half-pint of blood taken to run tests designed to make sure the problem exists

In my head

And not my body

THE WAIT

All the old doubts about seeking treatment resurface

Maybe I should cancel the follow-up appointments

It’s not really that bad I tell myself

I’ll get over it eventually

Except I never have

Other people have real problems, I think to myself

I’m just a negative nancy

I don’t even feel that bad today

Everything’s fine

I was freaking out over nothing

THE DIAGNOSIS

Reluctantly I return to discover what has been discovered about me

I am handed a printout of a summary of the diagnosis

I read over the list of symptoms possibly associated with my condition and nod my head along like a bobble with each one:

Inability to concentrate

Feelings of worthlessness

Desire to stay away from others

Self-hatred

Rarely experiences positive emotions

Loss of interest or motivation

Overeating

Unexplained irritability

Insomnia

Hopelessness

It’s called Dysthymia. Persistent Depressive Disorder. PDD.

I finally have a name for it

I’ve heard stories of people receiving a diagnosis and feeling happy because they finally have a name for it

Except I always understood what I felt

I just didn’t know why I felt it

The last thing I feel is relief

Because Dysthymia is a lifelong illness

So instead of relief

I get a diagnosis that tells me hopefully with medication and therapy

I’ll one day have this under control

Hopefully

But it’ll never go away

My greatest fear stemming from early childhood

Is that I would feel this way for the rest of my life

Now I have a definitive answer

The answer is yes

THE REACTION

While I agonize over these thoughts

Another pops into my head

That my mental suffering compares not at all

With people who have real problems

I’m not homeless. I have food. I have a safe place to sleep. I don’t live in a war zone. I’m better off than most of the world’s population.

The self-hatred I know so intimately wells up and chastises me for having the audacity to be depressed when I have absolutely no reason to be

I feel overwhelmed

Tired, anxious

My neck has been aching for weeks from tension

I can’t pretend to be cheery anymore

I can’t pretend at all anymore

I’ve lost my motivation

I’ve lost my hope

I’ve lost the energy to even care