I am not depressed. I have never experienced that deep sickness of the soul which makes everything look black, that altered brain chemistry which in no way resembles what most people mean when it is raining and they look out and say "Oh, that's so depressing". I've seen that pit of despair, and what I feel in no way equates with that.
This morning I looked around our flat and realized that I hate it. I really hate this place, this small, cramped, messy apartment with stuff everywhere. I realize most of the stuff is mine, and that I wouldn't feel this way if I could clean up a bit. I started, but then felt hopelessly overwhelmed with the magnitude and pointlessness of the task. If I clean it up, bitter experience has showed that it will just re-accumulate.
Then I realized that it is not just the apartment that I hate - it's my life. When did work and study take over so that I never see friends? When did we stop socializing with anyone? When did I get stuck in this life? I wanted to do something dramatic, something to either change my life or destroy it. I got a wild urge to sign a contract to buy a house, quit my job, leave home, walk under a bus - anything to change something! I finally realized what people who OD might be thinking. When I ask them "why did you do this?" They often say "I don't know, but it has to have been better than this!" People who have nothing to lose can do anything, since anything would be better than where they are.
Then again, I do have lots to lose and lots to live for. I'm not going to kill myself or anything like that - I'm just tired of the daily grind, and need some new coffee - hah. (Since I don't drink coffee, that's a joke.) I'm looking forward to Ballarat - at least it will be a change and a chance to start again in a new place.
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