Depression and productivity

I feel so low today. I have the day off, no lessons or plans to see anyone. To me that is a golden day, I can do what I want in my own company. Today though, I have sunk into a 'dip' as I call it.

I have been depressed for about a year, although I'm not sure exactly when - it isn't one of those things that happens overnight. An old friend of mine passed away last year on Mother's Day from a drug overdose the day before. He was with others and they survived but it was too much for him. He was still a teenager and he was talented at what he loved, he would've gone places I'm sure of it. Maybe it was around his death that it started or a little later. I only took real notice that I was consistently low early in the summer holidays.

Having things to do does help and I have pleeeenty I could get on with, but... I don't know really. I guess the best way to describe my dips is that I feel numb with hopelessness. It's during these times that I see the worst in myself - not good for anything or anyone. I eventually crawl out and get back to a normal state of mind. I guess you could say it occurs in episodes - like anyone who has good and bad days, just a bit more severe.

I am sitting at my desk in my flat at uni and feel I can't accomplish any work today. I would love to go to bed tonight feeling good about being productive, maybe write a few sentences. On occasion I give myself a single target, fairly small and doable, to build up some self-esteem. Ask anyone who is depressed and they will all say that doing anything is an achievement - getting out of bed, having a shower, eating. Day to day activities that most people do without even thinking suddenly feel as difficult as rock climbing or mountaineering.

For a long time I didn't get help, I went all through my teens crying in my pillow. One time I was so stressed and upset, I got up in the middle of the night and fainted on the landing. I came round on the floor on my back with my head propped against my closed bedroom door. My mum managed to get my up and put me into her bed to keep an eye on me. My head had swollen to twice its original size and I was bleeding from my head a little. Crying my eyes out, I felt like my head was going to split open, but mum told me to try to sleep. Turns out, I should have gone to A&E and going to sleep could've been dangerous, but nothing came of it and the gash at the back of my head healed itself over time.

Maybe I will too.