Depression

I, it seems to me that this “I” of mine still exists. I wake up here in my room, in my bed. My eyes do not want to open. When I open them, I find myself in this lousy world again. I do not want that. 

Today I have slept for first time in three days. For how long? I don’t know. I didn't fall asleep right away. I used to go straight to sleep as soon as I felt the bed. I'd lay down, close my eyes, and that was it, nothing, no problems, no people, and this internal feeling which is so heavy and vicious wasn’t with me either. Then it started getting more and more difficult for me to fall asleep. I lost the ability to 'hide' in the only place that made me feel good, namely, sleep. I would like to sleep through my entire life and only wake up when it is over, but I cannot do that. 

My head does not hurt as much as it did before. It was simply falling apart not long ago. I am starting to get used to this constant feeling. This drill in my head won’t allow me to move, it keeps me focused solely on it by means of this incredible pain. “Me, me, me, me, me”- there is nothing else at this moment besides me and this pain. Thoughts wonder in my head, running into each other in this state of being partly asleep and partly delirious and I have no control over them. All that is left for me to do is to simple observe. 

When things get really bad I get inclined to listen to heavy metal music. Bam-bam-bam! Louder and even more louder! Hard rock! Doom! Metallica! And all this is needed only to blank out my thoughts. This music makes me feel a little better. My hearing gets blunted and I stop hearing you. So, let the passers-by turn their heads over hearing loud sounds of Led Zeppelin in my headphones. I cannot make it any other way; those headphones and the music become the only means to survive, the shell that I have to put on in order to get out into the world. 

I am lying down. Time stretches terribly long. Tic-toc tic-toc the clock counts. And it seems to me that even the hand of the watch slows down its movements. I hear every strike in a stretched way. Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiic-tooooooooooc. It jives with the little hammer deep inside my head. Unbearable….. 

Looks like I am hungry. Sometimes I eat nothing for days; I simply forget to. I understand it is time to eat something when I feel sharp hunger cramps in my stomach. My body is asking for food, so I have to go eat something. I have to do something again. I have to perform mechanical movements like taking the food out, putting it in my mouth, chewing it, feeding my body. I open my eyes and see the ceiling, the same, old ceiling in my apartment. I go to the kitchen with an effort, it is dirty, I feel garbage under my feet, but I do not care about that now.

Daylight makes my eyes hurt. I close curtains ahead of time. I stop for a second and take a look outside. How many people are out there, and all of them hurrying somewhere, their faces look concerned. A thousand of them pass here daily. And I keep having the feeling that I have seen this already. They keep running one after another, time and time again, crossing the street, speaking on their cell phones, quarrelling with drivers, and eating at cheap cafes. They look like robots, their mouths open and move, their arms and legs traverse. I cannot tolerate seeing movement that is so empty and senseless. Quick! I need to close the window and go back to my private world! 

They make me so tired! They scream and bother me; they demand that I participate in their life. Every one of them thinks he is so clever and wants to teach me the right way to live. And I look at them and see one and the same thing, copies, copies, copies. They are just smooth, vulgar, blunt puppets. And you want me to look you in the eyes? You want me to talk to you? But why would I do that? What would I talk to you about? 

Sometimes I lose the feeling of reality. When I wake up at night or during the day, I start mixing up dates and places, I do not remember what happened yesterday, and I do not know what will happen today. I go to work and push computer keys in the same detached manner that I consume food. An endless “Groundhog Day”. So, what is reality? Maybe there, in my dark dreams, things are more real than here? 

I tried doing something with that. There were times when I tried to be “like everybody else”. Having a career, buying expensive things, having a family. Nothing ever pleased me. 

There was a period when I was completely submerged in computer games. I spent days and nights there, in my imaginary worlds. I was entranced by the opportunities they had. Things that I was able to do there that were impossible to accomplish in this world. There I did not have to communicate with all those people; there were elves, orcs, dragons, and a special way of life. In this toy world, among the castles and unicorns I could forget about reality for some time. I spent long nights online playing these virtual games. But this also exhausted itself. Finally, I reached the limit of their resources. 

I tried going to psychologists. Those “intelligent, handsome, and successful” people made no impression on me. All their admonitions about how beautiful life is, how much every moment of it should be valued... these phrases were empty to me. Where is this beautiful life? And how can it please anyone? It only makes me suffer. I do not want it. Psychological support groups brought no results either. I was not touched by human tears. Their eyes, their faces, they were all nothing. Silly unfortunate beings, what do I care about them? 

I have already gone to church. Crosses, icons, candles, prayers, it is all empty. Just beautiful pictures. 

Looking for a way to fill my internal emptiness, I started partying, drinking a lot, smoking, etc. But this did not make me feel better either. All hopes left me. The feeling of desperation and emptiness got to me more and more. 

One day a clear precise question appeared inside of me. Why? What is the meaning of my life? What is the meaning of this entire life struggle? I feel it sharply; it gives me a pulling sensation in my chest. Sometimes it makes me go even deeper internally and practically stop breathing, and other times it pushes me to yet another party with this burning wave of senselessness. It is only there that I am able to forget it all and have a little rest. 

I am trying to understand the way others feel. I go outside, I look at people, and I realize that not a single one of them has the questions that I have. I feel very lonely. You do not ask the questions that I ask, and I do not ask the questions you ask. I go into the crowd without feeling like one of them. 

I can only feel a little better at certain moments. In the darkness of the night I raise my eyes to the sky and I feel this light shining out from the dark. Maybe there is hope that all this wasn’t created for nothing? That this entire world so sickening and vulgar still has a meaning? And so do I. My heart aches from all this unclear agony and pain. And yet, there is light somewhere here.