Depression is the Fucking Worst

So, this is going to be a long, rambling series of thoughts that have nothing to do with media critique. If that’s not of interest to you close this tab and have a pleasant evening.

Still here? Okay, but I hope you’re ready for some off my head rambling thoughts.

So, this last week I’ve relapsed into a little of a depressive episode. My motivation has completely gone, my energy is lacking and I’ve had this god damn empty hole somewhere in me I can’t seem to fill. I’ve tried working through it, stuffing myself with food, getting drunk and enjoying a bunch of media that wasn’t there for work. Nothing really seemed to help.

I didn’t want to acknowledge that I was having another depressive episode. They come from time to time and the mere fact I experience them makes me feel pretty shitty. I’m doing my dream job, making a living that can just about support two people and I should be on top of the world. I have a support structure, loving friends and family, a great set of fans and a wonderfully fulfilling career. Still, depressive episodes still come, and the fact this life isn’t enough to fix that scares and upsets me.

Today, I sat and watched Season 2 of Bojack Horseman. Damn, I found myself relating unbelievably strongly with a cartoon horse.

Bojack has everything. He has a stable relationship, a great job, financial stability and on paper everything he had ever aimed for. Still, there’s this god damn fucking empty void in himself that no matter what he does just won’t go away. He becomes self destructive, he self sabotages, he sleeps and drinks and he tries to run from the world. He feels fucking empty in spite of the life he has. Everything became very clear. I’m having a depressive relapse and I can’t beat myself up over that.

I’m constantly paranoid that no matter how great my life is, that this is all going to fall away. I think that’s the source of all this emptiness. I’m terrified that I’m actually shit at my job and just popular because the world hasn’t yet noticed how I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. I’m terrified that I’m only successful because I work with Jim Sterling once a week and that if that ever goes, this career might go with it. I’m terrified that everyone around me only likes me because they don’t know me well enough yet and if they get to know me, they’ll all leave me. I’m terrified that my life is sand, slipping through my fingers. I’m terrified that all of this is just seconds from falling away.

I think the idea that I can’t rely on anything in my life is terrifying. My childhood fucked me up there in some regards. I’m terrified I’ll lose everything, all the time. That’s a void that, no matter how much I achieve, I’ll never fill.

I have no idea how to fix that void, a void created while I was young. I have no doubt a few days from now I will drown myself in work well enough that this will pass again, but it’s going to come back eventually.

I’m just so fucking tired and lonely and sad and empty inside sometimes, regardless of how great my life is. That terrifies me.