Day #224 - Like a Lamped Rabbit

I don't really know where to begin with this post but I am going to write in the hope that it will be of some cathartic value. Regular readers will know that I have been going through a bit of a rough patch just recently and I am still very much in it. I have wanted to get better for so long but you can never tell when the thing will kick in. This morning after a very restless night I was slightly optimisitic that the day should be tackled head on but I had to summon all of my strength to just get out of bed. I have mentioned self-harm in previous posts but I think that staying in bed gripped with fear can be very harmful in itself. I got up and did some tidying up and made my plans for the day. They would involve more cleaning and getting more organised. I had three large bags of rubbish to be taken out and had to collect some tools from a friends house that I left there last week or maybe longer. Depression can play all manner of dirty games with the memory, simple stuff can be impossible to recall and even simple arithmetic can be hard. So, I go out to my van and get ready to take to the road but the battery is just totally dead. What then? I went back indoors and then just sat and I have been pretty much sitting here since. The title of this post refers to the technique of using a strong light to point at a rabbit or other critter to stun it into stillness before shooting. I would not want to shoot anything but the expression "Like a lamped rabbit" is one you may have heard before and when referring to a human it means that one has just stopped in their tracks. I have been like this all day. The whole purpose of this post is just to try and break the cycle.

Right now I am ok-ish at the moment but I feel very frightened and anxious. The lack of sleep isn't helping at all. I have to admit at this point that I feel terribly ashamed of my depression. It is no surprise that people have distanced themselves from me but it is hard to be cheerful when you know that some folks that pretend to be friends are stirring up the bullshit to an enormous extent. In many ways this can make things much worse. Staying productive can be a great help but when stuff just keeps going wrong it pulls you down.

Last week I had a court appearance for the non-payment of a fine. The summons was issued before I paid the fine but I was not issued with a receipt. They authorities I paid insisted that I had been but of all the mail that has arrived this one VITAL letter has not. I went to the courthouse and explained to the person at the office what had happened but they told me that I would need the receipt otherwise my case could have a bad outcome. I decided to call the authorities again and ask them to fax a copy of the receipt to the courthouse. It was about a half hour of being passed around the various workers until I was told that they could not issue any copies via fax or otherwise. I had a lot of running about to do before I could get it all sorted out. It made me feel terrible. I have been feeling very low since then.

During the past few weeks I have been trying very hard to overcome the feelings of being down but it has been hard. I have been getting very tearful at times but when I am doing something productive it is a LOT easier. The shame and guilt of the depression is the worst. I never set out to feel like this and I would prefer that I didn't. I just want to get my life back and be happy again. I worry sometimes that it might never happen but the funny thing is that even just having written this far has lifted my spirits a little and I guess that that is a good thing.

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Last week I met with an old friend and we were exchanging stories of our respective times in the psychiatric ward. We both suffer from depression but we are good friends and have been for many years. He told me a story about one Christmas that he spent in the ward and about the party that was held for the patients. There was a raffle as part of the festivities and everyone was in with a chance of winning a prize. My friends' number was called and he presented his winning ticket to collect his prize which was wrapped up in Christmas paper. What was the prize? A set of screwdrivers. I have no idea what they must have been thinking when they decided that would be a good prize in a psychiatric ward but go figure. My friend was very happy with the prize but was just as bewildered as I was about the choice of items. We had a few laughs about it. There is a further part to this story but I will wait until next time to tell it. 

So, for now dear reader I will close but thanks for reading. I hope to post again soon as in perspective writing these few lines have helped a great deal. It was like talking to a friend that was actually interested in listening to you and thus helping cultivate a feeling of being of some kind of value. That is definitely a good thing. Take care and try to enjoy your days.