That’s how I feel sometimes, including right now.
I had a few days last week after my first therapy session where I was really feeling positive. I was thinking clearer, I was making note of things I wanted to change/do, and I was able to interact better with people.
Then, out of nowhere, this sense of impending doom resurfaces. It’s extremely hard to describe the feeling other than it’s like you know something awful is going to happen to you in the near future. Like imagine you have been arrested & tried & convicted, but for whatever reason you have a couple of days before you actually have to report to be taken to jail. Those couple of days would be torturous, knowing that right now you were free but in a few days you have to willingly surrender to being locked away from everyone you know and there isn’t a goddamn thing you can do about it. It’s soul crushingly debilitating, and makes you question every single tiny little thing that is happening in your life constantly. The Doomsayer is just another variant of the Voice (McCunt) in my head that tells me how much I suck, however it has a different agenda. Instead of trying to wear me down by actively berating me, instead it just drops in to say “Oh by the way, doesn’t matter what you try to do, it’s pointless, so don’t bother” and uses futility as an excuse to not do something.
“Guitar practice? Nah, not gonna matter soon anyway so may as well just sit”
“Go out for a walk with your wife? Nah, its shitty outside so there’s not much point, better to just zone out in front of the TV”
And so on. It breeds apathy and discontent, and make everything sound unappealing and pointless.
This is how I feel a large chunk of my waking life. I don’t understand it, I don’t like it, and I don’t see it stopping any time soon. When you are a rational man it is very scary to have irrational thoughts thrust upon you by your own mind. I wish I had never noticed that I was depressed, had never admitted it to anyone, because I used to have things pretty much figured out (or so I believed). But now that I’m aware of it, the confusion it brings along into day-to-day life is incredibly frustrating.
I had a pretty bad weekend because of this. I was moody, I was mean to my wife and I beat myself up (mentally) for a lot of stuff I was doing or thinking. I’m really starting to dislike the weekends, at least when I’m at work I’m mostly distracted from this shit.
Well at least I’ve got something to talk about in therapy later this evening. Oh joy.