All of this is problematic, of course, because what kind of life is that? How limited am I really? And exactly how much should I limit myself?
Should I sit around and wait for the next wave of depression to hit me and take me down? Should I stay in this "neutral" zone for the rest of my life in a desperate attempt to keep myself from any kind of mood episode? Because so far, this has done me no good at all. The medication has flattened everything out, and for a while it was a relief to feel nothing, but now? Now I've realised how much it sucks to be empty. I actually kind of miss the darkness and despair because at least then I felt SOMETHING. There was a driving force inside of me, however horrible it was. It made me force myself to do stuff that needed doing, regardless of how crappy the outcome was going to be. I didn't care about grades, not really, because I didn't think I deserved anything good anyway. The voice inside was usually saying something like, "Write your essay, you stupid worthless piece of crap. Just write it. WRITE IT. YOU SUCK. NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU JUST GET IT DONE AND GO BACK TO YOUR NORMAL LEVEL OF SUCK YOU TWAT." No, not an actual voice, but it seemed real to me all the same. The voice of depression can be very loud, especially because it grows out of very deep-rooted beliefs about yourself. You start seeing yourself as awful, and then that feeling grows and grows until it takes up all the space in your life, having pushed out every last shred of light you ever had in you.
I know that depression is a horrible place. I know that I do not want to go back there. I know I need to keep myself balanced. But where should I draw the line? Should I always be scared of taking risks? Should I always worry about putting myself out there? And will I ever feel like an actual person again? Will I ever feel like living?
I don't know, but I don't like this dullness. I don't like feeling hollow. I don't like drawing a circle around myself and refusing to step outside of it. I know I am limited, and I am trying to come to terms with that, but should I let limits rule my life? Do I need to walk on eggshells around depression to avoid being attacked by it again? Why does the thought of falling down again scare me so much?
It's like that Natasha Bedingfield song: "If I don't get up, then I can't fall down." I love that song, because it speaks to a part of me that I've been trying so hard to hide, not just from other people but from myself as well.
This woman is a true inspiration, and this album, Strip Me, got me through some hard times. A beautiful musician with a lot of important things to say. When people like her open their mouths, we should all listen. So Natasha: I'm listening. I will try to get up, even if I might fall back down. It's all part of life, after all. Every single asswiping aspect of it.
Welcome to life. Come on in. Take a seat.