My brain is stuck. And I’m stuck in it.
I can’t think of ideas, and the rare few that get in I instantly declare stupid.
I’m not even interested in playing stupid games on my phone. Mostly I stare off into nothingness and wish I could think of a story for my homework, or a post for my blog.
I get a short brain blast where I feel awake enough in my head to put down words, but the computer freezes up then.
My computer and myself – quite a pair.
I sit here now, the computer finally working, and me with the pedal exerciser under the desk and I pedal as I write. The motion helps keep my brain moving in a more focused way than the self-loathing motion it keeps reverting to when I am at rest.
I have to write but I don’t know why I feel that way when I have nothing to say.
Nothing to say, too much to think, and too much to do and no energy to do it.
Aggravation, irritation, mixed with apathy, mixed with despair.
“I will never be a good writer, I will never finish this novel, I’m worthless, I’ll never be okay”
“Leave me alone, I just want to sit here”
“Dinner? who eats dinner?”
I am pedaling like my life depends on it now, leaning over my rising and falling knees to reach the keyboard on the desk.
And maybe my life does depend on this; this determination to keep going because I must, even when it feels purposeless.
Sometimes, this is what surviving depression looks like – pedaling to nowhere.