A look inside a depressed mind: (potential) Prologue

I’ve been thinking about writing about how I feel, about what goes on in my mind. As a matter of fact, this is one of the reasons I created my account in SteemIt. I haven’t decided whether I’ll do it or not yet, but still I want to leave this as a sort of prologue. As I have never been fully open about this, I have no way of telling whether what I feel is norman or not so. I’m guessing it’s the second.

I’m 25 years old, and my situation is rather hard to explain. Not only because it shames me, but also bcause it’s hard to put in words. Perhaps somone in a similar situation will read this, and perhaps this will help him to explain it, to comunicate it. Depression may not be the most accurate word, but I can’t come up with a better one.

I always found hard to do things, specially those who require interaction with other people. Sometimes it’s just hard – I get nervious and nothing more, sometimes I’m paralyzed and can’t even approach them, and sometimes I don’t even have the energy to try.

One day I stopped seeing my friends. I stopped studying and .I stopped looking for work. By not working, I began feeling a slacker, a leech to my parents, and that caused me to feel guilty about spending money, and ashamed to talk about it with my friends. This, on top of my shyness, caused me to start avoiding seeing them.

Then came a time when I barely got out my home, and thus came along lonelyness and boredom. Not a productive boredom, but a boredom of defeat. Nevertheless, I didn’t stop enjoying my hobbies, and sooner or later even the most introverted one can start talking about what he likes. And thus I established superficial relationships with other enthusiasts.

And then the guilt arose agian. Guilt of being turning my back on my friends, on the people who were always there for me, while I was talking with virtual strangers.

I descended into a spyral of failure, inactivity, shame and guilt. Defeat led to inactivity, inactivity ashamed me and made me feel guilty, which led to more inactivity.

Now, in my twenty five years, I realized that maybe my inactivity, my shame, my fear, were either sympthoms or signs of some sort of depression or similar problem; that there was nothing to feel guilty of. But the lost time, the lost opportunities, the lost relationships don’t come back. The harm is done, and it still hurts.

This is not a self help article. I don’t think I’ve gotten over my depression, so I can hardly help anyone. Ths is, above all, a way to relieve myself. What I do expect, what I would wish, is to spread my story. For those who don’t know what it feels to be able to know it; and for those who do wnow it and feel the same way, to find comunication easier, to helpm them explain it. Maybe they might even avoid the harm, acting before it’s too late.

There’s one more thing I’d wish to set clear: Perhaps in the future I’ll talk about my sexuality, or use my account to browse such contents. By no means is my intention to imply that any sexuality that resembles mine is a consequence of an emotional state like mine. I don’t mean to make anyone feel judged, let alone judge anyone. What I do mean, what I do want, is to be able to discuss it freely, in the event that I feel the need to.

Regards, and thanks for reading.