Post-pride depression

Pride 2018. I'm still trying to mentally recover from the weeks of exhaustion, which were well worth it at the time and may still be. I'm just having a hard time readjusting to the real world, where I spend much of my time alone with my thoughts. I had forgotten what it was like to be able to spend time with friends every few days rather than every few months, but I had also forgotten to take care of myself during my visit to Pittsburgh, which made things more difficult after returning home. Post-pride depression is one of those phenomena that deserves further research. I keep seeing posts from friends who also seem to be struggling with mental health issues right now.

I don't know how to explain it to some people. That feeling when you know you need to do something, when you actually really want to do it, but your brain and body just refuse to let it happen. The guilt you feel when you can't do something simple for yourself then just makes it even worse. It's hard to escape the cycle, and it's even harder when you've already got to deal with anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and an overwhelming desire to scream and cry for no reason. It's not easy to separate these components in the moment. Sometimes you feel it all at once. You freeze because the alternatives are much, much worse.

This is the second time I've run out of medication without being able to get a refill. I'm again trying to fight hating myself for not being able to survive three days without these pills. I'm also trying to fight hating this mental health agency, which is pretty much the only option down here. Therapy at this place hasn't been very helpful at all. Every session felt more like small talk with a stranger.

My fiance has a new job working for the government, which is all I'm allowed to know or say. The days are long for him, but they haven't changed much for me, and maybe that's contributing to my depression. It's nice to spend nights together, but I'm at a point where I feel numb most of the time that I'm not feeling down. I had a few manic moments today when I started listening to music, pacing the floors in excitement, thinking of all the things I could do for an upcoming show. It was a helpful distraction, but it was short-lived.

I'm getting more worried about grad school. About whether this is something I'm even going to be capable of doing, physically and mentally. Taking a week off for Pride means I have to push myself a little harder these next few weeks. My productivity pretty much stops after 6 hours. It's hard to believe that anyone would ever hire me given that kind of stipulation. Feeling like this is as good as it will ever get is also pretty depressing.

Then there's that whole existential death anxiety thing that invades my consciousness, often multiple times a day. It's absolutely terrifying, and sometimes it makes it hard to even get the motivation to do anything. Other times, it just paralyzes me in a way that I can't fully explain.

I just want to make it through this and feel okay again. Then I can work on feeling happy. I know what my brain is doing to me. I know why most of this is happening. But it doesn't make it any easier to handle. It doesn't make me more capable of getting out of this place.

I've been preparing to go to the gym for over an hour. But I know this is one of the few things that can help snap me out of this. I just need to be able to leave my house without crying. Even thinking about it is making it hard to breathe. I wish I had someone to go with me right now.

Breathe. It's okay. It's okay to not be okay.
Nothing worth having is ever easy.

And nothing seems to be working right now.
But I'm still going to try.