My depression and anxiety is getting the better of me. I’m seeing a psychologist now once a week and have at least six sessions with him over the next couple of months. My day consists of avoidance, frustration, anger, fear and a lot of wondering why I’m either bothering. I can no longer do anything without their being a definitive reasons or benefit behind it, and I’m just really angry.

I seem to have decided that my motto in life will now be “Get them before they get me” I don’t let anyone get close or allow myself to be unguarded in case I get hurt. I really don’t want to be any more hurt than I am so I strike first and give everyone a reason to avoid me. That way, I don’t get hurt and I believe I have won the battle.

It was hard mapping out the first quarter of my life to the psych this morning. I had a lump in my throat the entire conversation and the tears almost came. It feels cliche and old, but it has to come out.

He seems kind enough but distant enough for me to spill out the pain, let him sort through the mess. So far he concludes that most of what I do is self-inflicted, but I knew that already, that’s why I keep doing it.

Depression is really pissing me off. I have absolutely no control over what these chemicals in my brain decided to feel at any given moment. My mum called me to go for Coffee a week back. I was fine, feeling great, looking forward to a Cappuccino and a talk with my mum. As soon as I got to the plaza I felt like shit. I felt like everything around me deserved to die. Please don’t be offended by what I’m saying, the things you feel and think when you are feeling that low can’t really be reasoned with, its demented.

The world melted around me into blurred windows and hallways and my vision never swayed from that immediate spot in front of my left foot. My conversation with my mother was monotone and uninteresting. I felt sick, I felt like the coffee I would order would make me ill so I ordered tea and a gluten free chocolate muffin.. which made me feel sick. I wanted to cry, scream, throw the tea at the fucking window. Destroy everything around me and curl into a ball, let the darkness envelop and take me away from it all.

When I left the plaza, half way home, I felt great. The feelings of hopelessness faded and I started to use some positive tools to help me push everything back and see clearly. It was a facade of course, but it works to get through the ugly until I actually did feel great again.

I can’t finish anything. I can start it with enthusiasm but it never ends. It just sits there idle and unimportant until I realise what I’ve neglected and feel terrible. It’s destroying my world from the inside out again and I need it to stop.

I don’t want to be always sad, I don’t want be afraid of voices and what they are saying about me or of approaching anything or anyone. I don’t want to have random thoughts about horrible accidents and the many ways in which one could no longer exist. I don’t want my world to completely fade out and be left only with a fantasy and illusion.

I get scared sometimes that I’ll never get back. I hope something comes of this, and I am sorry if it bleeds through to this blog, which of course is unavoidable. I just want to see it laid out in front of me, pick through the pieces and choose what I want back, banish the rest, and live my life.