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I feel depressed tonight. I don't know why... it's not the war, no matter how awful that is. And it's not anything with friends or family, as far as I'm aware.
Nothing at all has happened, to my knowledge, between yesterday and today that should make me feel depressed. But then again, I'm not entirely sure that I wasn't depressed yesterday either... and the day before that, and the one before that too, going back quite a ways. I just don't know why.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I was unhappy constantly. There were quite a few days when I laughed and smiled, when I had fun, even days when I felt better about myself for some reason, such as when I started thinking of writing again. Talking with Dusk always makes me feel happy, for one thing, and I talk with him every day for many hours, thanks to his cell phone plan granting free long distance on nights and weekends. And so does talking with my friends and family online as well. But despite that, I can't shake the idea that this feeling, this depression, has been with me for a long time now. Maybe even years...
And maybe it's a mistake to look for a single first cause for it, a single starting point... maybe it's not best viewed as a tree growing from a seed, maybe it's best viewed as a river with many sources pouring into it and contributing to its flow. I can name a few of them... frustration about the way my life seems to be stalled while I help my parents care for my grandmother is a large part. Concern over some (possibly stress-related) hair loss I've been having is definitely another. Fears and doubts and uncertainties about finding work in the future, let alone finding a job that I can really enjoy working at and that will provide a decent future for me and my loved ones is another.
There are others, too... feeling trapped by this house for one, because I rarely get the chance to go outside and just walk in the forest or ride my bike or do something outside on a sunny day anymore, because I'm either taking care of my grandmother inside, catching up on sleep missed by having the afternoon and night shifts of caring for her in the first place, or else driving around running errands with or without my father and grandmother in tow.
Feeling somewhat like an afterthought too, because my father always waits until the night before to tell me any plans he and my mother have, which makes it really hard to make any plans of my own even if there was anything to do in this crappy little town in the scant few hours I have to myself is another.
Also, feeling annoyed because in a few minutes when I go to bed, I'll be sleeping in a couch in the living room yet again, because my parents once agreed to move into a living arrangement with my grandparents before I was born that got blown to hell when my grandfather died. They were going to build an addition to this house. He died. My grandmother claimed this house all to herself, leaving my parents and me to live in the tiny guest house while I was growing up (Living-room/Kitchen, bathroom, 1 bedroom) My father moved in over here when he had his heart attack and toe amputation, originally for the recovery and later to help take care of my grandmother as her Alzheimer's progressed. I moved in over here when she fell and broke her hip, and needed additional care after her surgery. My mother, due to some arguments with my grandmother years ago, refuses to move into this house with us and still lives in the guest house, which she now refers to as her office. This is a much bigger house than the other one... we have a living room, a separate kitchen, a bathroom, two bedrooms, a porch, and a small hallway/pantry area slid in next to the kitchen. But because they never put their foot down and had an addition built, there's still not really room here for me. My father sleeps in the old "guest room", my grandmother sleeps in the room she's always slept in and I do not begrudge her that, but here I am stuck sleeping on a couch. Granted, if I chose to move some furniture that's in the way, I could pull it out into a sofa-bed... however, I really don't feel like pushing around a coffee table and two bookcases every morning and evening. And I've slept on it in bed-mode before, it's actually less comfortable in my opinion. There's this metal bar that gets you right in the back. But my point is, I feel like I'm not really living in my own home, more like I'm taking up a spare corner in someone else's house. Sure, my stuff is all here, but there's no place for me.
Maybe that's what is really at the heart of my depression tonight... I don't feel like there's a place for me here, and I don't know where to go to find or make one, even if I knew how.
Sorry to subject all of you to this, but I needed to let myself say this stuff before I could really understand.
Nothing at all has happened, to my knowledge, between yesterday and today that should make me feel depressed. But then again, I'm not entirely sure that I wasn't depressed yesterday either... and the day before that, and the one before that too, going back quite a ways. I just don't know why.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I was unhappy constantly. There were quite a few days when I laughed and smiled, when I had fun, even days when I felt better about myself for some reason, such as when I started thinking of writing again. Talking with Dusk always makes me feel happy, for one thing, and I talk with him every day for many hours, thanks to his cell phone plan granting free long distance on nights and weekends. And so does talking with my friends and family online as well. But despite that, I can't shake the idea that this feeling, this depression, has been with me for a long time now. Maybe even years...
And maybe it's a mistake to look for a single first cause for it, a single starting point... maybe it's not best viewed as a tree growing from a seed, maybe it's best viewed as a river with many sources pouring into it and contributing to its flow. I can name a few of them... frustration about the way my life seems to be stalled while I help my parents care for my grandmother is a large part. Concern over some (possibly stress-related) hair loss I've been having is definitely another. Fears and doubts and uncertainties about finding work in the future, let alone finding a job that I can really enjoy working at and that will provide a decent future for me and my loved ones is another.
There are others, too... feeling trapped by this house for one, because I rarely get the chance to go outside and just walk in the forest or ride my bike or do something outside on a sunny day anymore, because I'm either taking care of my grandmother inside, catching up on sleep missed by having the afternoon and night shifts of caring for her in the first place, or else driving around running errands with or without my father and grandmother in tow.
Feeling somewhat like an afterthought too, because my father always waits until the night before to tell me any plans he and my mother have, which makes it really hard to make any plans of my own even if there was anything to do in this crappy little town in the scant few hours I have to myself is another.
Also, feeling annoyed because in a few minutes when I go to bed, I'll be sleeping in a couch in the living room yet again, because my parents once agreed to move into a living arrangement with my grandparents before I was born that got blown to hell when my grandfather died. They were going to build an addition to this house. He died. My grandmother claimed this house all to herself, leaving my parents and me to live in the tiny guest house while I was growing up (Living-room/Kitchen, bathroom, 1 bedroom) My father moved in over here when he had his heart attack and toe amputation, originally for the recovery and later to help take care of my grandmother as her Alzheimer's progressed. I moved in over here when she fell and broke her hip, and needed additional care after her surgery. My mother, due to some arguments with my grandmother years ago, refuses to move into this house with us and still lives in the guest house, which she now refers to as her office. This is a much bigger house than the other one... we have a living room, a separate kitchen, a bathroom, two bedrooms, a porch, and a small hallway/pantry area slid in next to the kitchen. But because they never put their foot down and had an addition built, there's still not really room here for me. My father sleeps in the old "guest room", my grandmother sleeps in the room she's always slept in and I do not begrudge her that, but here I am stuck sleeping on a couch. Granted, if I chose to move some furniture that's in the way, I could pull it out into a sofa-bed... however, I really don't feel like pushing around a coffee table and two bookcases every morning and evening. And I've slept on it in bed-mode before, it's actually less comfortable in my opinion. There's this metal bar that gets you right in the back. But my point is, I feel like I'm not really living in my own home, more like I'm taking up a spare corner in someone else's house. Sure, my stuff is all here, but there's no place for me.
Maybe that's what is really at the heart of my depression tonight... I don't feel like there's a place for me here, and I don't know where to go to find or make one, even if I knew how.
Sorry to subject all of you to this, but I needed to let myself say this stuff before I could really understand.
no subject
no subject
You need to register yourself as "homeless". If you don't have access to a bed in the place where you're sleeping, that's exactly what you are. You need to get some assistance in moving out of there.
no subject
I wish I knew what else to say. I'm sorry...
*offers warm hugs*