You know that feeling when you have spent a week being very, very happy… the world is smiling at you and you are smiling back, it’s all rainbows and unicorns, nothing could be more perfect than this… and then…. It takes just one little thing to send you back to hell?
That is the way I can sum up my weekend of doom.
I’m trying (hard) to kind of rationalise it into a little setback that can happen, it’s fine, everyone has a bad day, don’t stress too much over it but… I felt like the world crushed on me in one go.
Suddenly, all my achievements felt like absolutely nothing at all. Abruptly, I looked myself in the mirror and I saw the ugly old Silvia back. I felt sad, I felt upset, under the weather, nothing cheered me up. Two amazing friends (Claudia and Lilla, I love you so much) came to the rescue and we even decided to embark on a “seven days butt challenge”: honestly, without their help, I would still be in that very dark cloud of thoughts I was on Saturday, though I’m not completely out of it yet.
Ahhh, I feel so frustrated. I was so loving the happiness and the “being on a high” as I was in the last few weeks. You know what I think? I probably relaxed a bit too much. My diet, from very healthy and carefully planned, went a bit out of the window (I had two days of Indian food binge feast, and I may have indulged in fried food a bit too much….). I felt invincible, on top of my game, nothing could have bothered me. Needless to say, I got caught totally off guard, which is probably why it stings more than what it should.
Lesson learned: don’t think you are safe just because you are enjoying a nice spell of happiness: depression can hit back at any time. I feel like I did one step forward and three steps back. I even had a proper, massive sob at the thought of being alone and with almost next to zero chances of landing in a loving relationship anytime soon. I have on the pipeline a lot of beautiful thing to look forward: tomorrow I start the bodybuilding program with my personal trainer, my dearest friend and partner in crime Rosario is coming to visit and we’ll go to see Slayer together (a gig I’ve been looking forward since I booked the tickets many months ago), I have another trip at Dollhouse for a photoshoot, a meet and greet with Kreator in December, a lot of amazing events at the office, probably a trip or two back in my home country…. And yet, I’m in such a mood that I don’t really “see” a good day happening anytime soon.
This is something that always buggers me about depression: you can fight it, you can even win a battle or two, but all of the sudden BANG! Your brain is clouded with this horrible illness, you are almost powerless and, no matter how much you try, nothing seems to really work to cheer you up. You can’t flush away the darkness just like that. It takes time. In addition, this feeling of doom and gloom took a very big toll on my workout: I managed to go to the gym and exercise, but to be honest, I felt so tired and lethargic that I didn’t push as I usually would have done it.
You know what though? After all the work I’ve done on myself, I’ve learned one big lesson that is massively helping me cope in this upsetting time: I’m kind to myself. In the past, I would have blamed myself, hated myself, told myself I’m stupid, dumb, deluded and called myself any offensive name under the sun I could think of because I “failed” at being happy. As we speak, I’m upset, yes, I’m a bit angry at myself for not thinking that this could have happened at some point, but at the same time I’m thinking “hey… you know what… fuck it, it is what it is”. I’m ill. I will always be mentally ill, it is part of who I am, and instead of fighting against myself, I should embrace this moment and do my best to let it slip away with as less damages as possible. It is a bit like when you are physically hurt, and you relax on the sofa surrounded by pillows and cushions to feel as comfy as possible: I’m mentally doing the same.
Also, I’m not hiding. Enough of this. Whoever is in my life right now has been carefully selected to be able to take the hit should I “go mental”, so I am free to say “hey, can I talk to you right now? I have something I need to get off my chest because it feels about to crush me”. Of course, it doesn’t mean I consider it a free pass to moan all day, every day, but it is mentally extremely relieving knowing that, when you feel like opening up, you have understanding people that will not only listen to your rants, but that will also try and help you: maybe they won’t put a smile back on your face, but they’ll definitely make you feel less desperate.
So yes, this is what is happening to me as we speak. I’m in badly need of a hug and a cuddle!