falling slowly

It’s probably for the best that this post has nothing to do with falling in love with scruffy Irish buskers, even if would be terribly exciting (likely in theory only). Of course, even if that WERE my reality, chances are a) I wouldn’t notice, or b) I wouldn’t feel a thing .. because that’s what this post is really about: my mental health is in a really, really bad state right now.

Things should be awesome here on Planet Kimli – adorable kitten, new job, a trunk full of Diet Coke, fun things to look forward to, excellent scooting weather, my skin is better than it has been in a year – but they’re significantly less than good, for no real reason. I’m tired all the time. Nothing makes me happy. Nothing makes me sad. Nothing makes me anything, actually. I feel utterly detached, and everything is an endless sea of grey. Logically I know I should want to fix this, but the only solution I can come up with is largely based around my crawling into bed and never ever coming out. I’m told this isn’t so much of a fix as it is a terrible idea that will leave me both poor and smelly, but damn if it isn’t the only thing that interests me even a little these days. I am in a Bad Place. I don’t know how to get out.


Apparently, I can feel two things: shame and disgust. The shame comes from my posting this at all, and the disgust comes from that shame. Isn’t it stupid that I can wax poetry for weeks about my genitals, but when I really need to say something serious about my mental health, my very strong gut feeling is to sit down and shut up and post something meaningless instead so I won’t embarrass myself or others? I know better than that. As a whole, things won’t get better until there’s as little stigma about depression as there is about having a cold. And yet .. it’s taken me ages to post this. I haven’t been feeling like this for a few days or weeks, but months, and I’ve said nothing. I am ashamed of my silence. This is so much more important than what’s going on with my vagina (not much of anything, thanks for asking), but I can’t speak.

Now I am super annoyed at myself, too. I do not like today so much.

3 thoughts on “falling slowly

  1. There’s no right or wrong way to talk about depression, especially when it’s about yourself. This is about you, and not anyone else – and only you know you :)

    It might not feel like it, but by talking about it you’re helping to change the world. We need less stigma. Your words are important.

    Unfortunately, unlike a cold (which might be helped from crawling in to bed for a week), depression isn’t likely to go away on it’s own. It might feel overwhelming, but it’s time to assemble your Feeling Good team. This might include a doctor, your husband, a psychologist, a good friend or two, yourself (this is key), and maybe some others to figure out your treatment plan. I’m not sure what the right formula is, but all I do know is that you can’t think your way out of depression any more than you can other diseases. Taking steps (no matter how small) to get better is important.

    Sending my love and support to the west coast!

  2. Kimli, please go see your doc and see if you need a meds adjustment. I know for many of my friends who have struggled with depression, sometimes what worked for ages just… stops. I know it’s hellish to even consider making a phone call right now, but please try. Maybe buy yourself something glittery if you make the call? Also, if you think you can bear therapy, I can tell you that it saved my sanity several times and I hope it could help you too.

    Thinking non-grey thoughts for you, sparkle chick.

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