Insomniac Ramblings

I can smell chocolate.
I don't know why and I don't know where it's coming from. But I know that I can smell it... I think it might be from when Matt was eating one of his Easter eggs earlier - there was a chocolate-looking mark on the bed where he'd been sitting.
There's also a chance that it might be coming from my Herbalife shake tub... They're chocolate flavoured and remarkably realistic! I'm enjoying having them - they're quick and easy to make, they taste good and they're generally pretty convenient. With the added weightloss bonus of course...

Anyway, back to what I was originally going to post today...
I've realised that although I started this blog with the intention of going through how I was coping with depression and anxiety and how it all made me feel, I'm not sure I've done much of that.

For me, depression makes me feel worthless and as if I'm not good enough. In turn, that stops me from trying because I believe that I'm crap anyway, so why bother?

Some days, I find it especially hard to get out of bed because I just haven't got the strength to face the day. Everything seems bleak and dark and pointless. I don't want to do anything. Anything I do do is faced done with a rather miserable attitude of 'why am I bothering, I don't want to be here' regardless of how well it's hidden.

I hate the fact that I have to fake smiles. It's exhausting. It's stupid. I don't see why I should do this for others half the time.

Of course, that, to me, comes across as extreme selfishness - something I was raised to hate and avoid at all costs.
This, ergo, makes me feel horribly guilty - like a truly despicable human being. I disgust myself and hate myself. There are times when these feelings get so bad all I want to do is die. I don't want to kill myself, I just want to die.
Of course, there are the other times when I do want to take my own life. Whether it be through overdose or through cutting myself somewhere vital. Sometimes I cut myself to feel in control when everything else is too crazy. When it feels like the world has stopped turning but I haven't and all I can hear is my own mental screaming and my own voice and the other voice telling me how worthless and horrible I am. When all I can see are flaws in everything. When I feel so much that I feel nothing. The last of my most recent scars are nearly healed and the itching is driving me mad.

It's pretty tough. Sometimes, like now, I can see that I don't give myself enough credit for dealing with this and getting the help that I have. Sometimes, I don't feel like it's been enough. I know that I'm going to go to the doctors tomorrow and tell him that I don't feel any better. I'm going to tell him that I in fact feel emotionally dead most of the time. That time itself seems to take three times as long. That I'm spacing out, confused, disorientated. I'm not sure what the outcome of that will be but I'll let you know either way.

On a somewhat lighter note, Matt had his closest friend visiting today so I cooked us all whole wheat spaghetti bolognese. It was amazing. We had it with warm, freshly made bread and garlic Lurpack. There's still some bolognese left - I'm planning on having some tomorrow with rice. Or maybe just with salad. Or with pasta salad. I haven't quite decided. Obviously...