I'm really feeling it now, the depression, I mean. I'm not sad as such but I know I'm not coping. It would be easier if there were tears, I understand tears. They're a release but not for me. Not right now.
I get it, it's a busy time of year... it always is from now until Christmas. The stress levels have skipped a few levels and are sky high at the moment. I'm getting things done, at least I think I am. The state of my desk has not improved, I should rifle through the growing stack of papers to make sure I haven't missed an important notice from school or accidentally let a bill go unpaid. So far so good, nothing has been missed, I've just left it to the last minute. I'm not normally like that.
Little things are getting to me, the incessant chatter of my children... the absent minded thumping of my husbands hand on the sofa... the ticking of the damn clock. They all grate on my very last frayed nerve.
And all the while, I must keep the household running, keep up the happy, productive front at work, keep nurturing relationships.... keep moving forward.
I'm not coping, I think of self-harm in a abstract sort of way. I don't want to die by any means but I want an outlet for this pain that I can't identify. I don't even know if it is pain or something else. I really couldn't tell you.
All I know is that I have a regular image in my mind of bleeding from the wrists, hoping this feeling will drain away. Made worse now that it's T-shirt weather and my bare skin feels exposed and vulnerable.
I will get past this, I just wonder what I should do until that time comes.