Finding a hobby feels impossible. The anhedonia I experience from depression makes it very difficult. I really don’t feel any pleasure or joy when I do things. And beyond that, my brain doesn’t work the way that it used to. Learning new things is 10 times more challenging then it used to be. Memory and focus are in the dumps right now. I don’t know how to fight the boredom.
I really need to talk to my psychiatrist. My mind just feels so empty, and it’s not right. I feel dumbed down, and while my thoughts still race constantly, the ones that slow down enough for me to capture are sluggish and without character. I feel like an empty shell of a person. My feelings are numbed right out.
It’s like certain things got better, like my self-esteem and my depersonalization, but others, like my creativity and focus, have gone right downhill. An annoying trade off that I’m wondering if the meds are causing. I know anti-psychotics can cause a flat effect, and slow down brain activity.
Even when I was writing before, I had a certain flow and feeling to go along with it. Now when I sit down to write it feels so lacking in passion. The words don’t spill out of me, instead I have to force them out. I felt a certain amount of poetry in my work before, but that’s lacking as well. I wanted to do some poetry today but nothing would come out.
I want to write, I really do. I want to feel the words and challenge myself in descriptions. When I stare at the empty page, it’s a reflection of myself and the blankness of my thought processes.
I apologize for having nothing worth reading on my blog lately, mostly I’m using it to get whatever feelings I do have, out in words. It’s cathartic for me to just sit here and write sometimes, even if the subject matter is empty and pointless.
I miss the way things were before the mental illness.
I need connection in my life, but I’m so different then most people that I meet.
I just can’t do this life thing sometimes.