Since when did a nervous breakdown become something that you need to schedule? I mean, seriously, back in the day, when women went nuts, they did it with style, they did it in a grand way, and they got put away in a quiet room somewhere for some alone time, shock therapy, and a frontal lobotomy. "Hysterical" is what I think they called it.
Well I am finding life pretty fucking hysterical right now.
You know what I find hysterical? I have been on various antidepressants for over a year now - and I am still unable to see the beauty in life. I know it's there, but it's sort of like the ship in one of those 3-D pictures that were so popular in the 90's? the ones where you knew if you could just "look" in the right way, you could see it.... but I just can't. It's all a big fucking mess to me.
You know what else is a big fucking mess? Me. Some days it's all I can do to get out of bed. But then, after I do, I still have to stumble through my work day, then come home and try to not lose my shit. And by "lose my shit", I mean cry, scream, or freak out for no reason. And by "no reason", I mean no reason that anyone on the outside can see. Everything looks great, right? Until you try living in my hole-filled brain. No one would want to do that. I don't even like it - it's the Hotel California - you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.
I want to breakdown. I want to give up. Surrender to whatever this is and just find some way to go through it and hope there's an end. But, instead, I am working every day to fight it. Fight breaking down. Maintain some semblance of normalcy and appearance of non-fucked-up-ness. Pretend like an endless future of feeling like this doesn't scare the shit out of me. Selfishly wishing, all the time, that I could just stop.