By Quill Stark
*** Sleeping practices ***
I sleep between eleven and twelve hours, sometimes longer. The moment consciousness fills my being, the depression starts… so does the sighing.
It can take up to an hour to get out of bed. The whole time, the voice in my head screams…
“Get out of bed you lazy bastard… ”
After enduring this for what seems like forever, I drag myself out of bed…
*** The morning begins ***
Through sleep drugged views, I dragged myself to the loungeroom, each step an effort. Still in my underwear, I flopped into my lounge chair. I gaze down at my bloated form, I’ve given up weighing myself after I hit one hundred kilos.
*** Online and coffee ***
I pick up my phone and activate the Wi-Fi, the world rushes in. I check my emails, most of which, I delete. It can take some time as I don’t always comprehend them.
Facebook is the next thing to assault me. I scoll through the entries, a few catch my attention… mainly about mental illness. I look up at the clock, an hour has passed.
Through sad thoughts, I realise I’m hungry. After an hour, I curse myself for being so pathetic as having to eat.
*** A slave to Charlie ***
Before I can go, I have to feed Chalie, a six month old cinnamon weiro cockateil. My friends said it would be good for me and it could keep me company. I bought him through a breeder… the ad said…
“six week old, hand reared and tamed.”
So I bought him and that was a mistake. Six months down the track all he does is hiss at me so I leave him alone.
*** Diabetes and depression ***
The first real effort is to check my blood sugar, high as usual. The blood sugar glucometer caculates the amount of insulin to take. I grab the first insulin and debate whether to dial up a fatal dose. I’m too depressed to commit suicide and I give myself the prescribed dosage.
*** A Weatbix kid ***
After forcing myself, I make it into the kitchen. I grab a bowl and I dump some Weatbix into it. A splash of milk and I sit down to eat them. I grab my handful of meds and eat them with my cereal.
When I’m finished, I dump the bowl into the sink with the rest of the unwashed things… I must get around to washing them.
*** My sanctuary beckons ***
I trudge back into the loungeroom and flop into the chair.
‘It seems like such an effort….’
I shake my head at the thought. I lay back and stare at the ceiling. I know every spot and mark. I tune back into the painful reality, two hours have past.
‘I hate myself so much… How can such a waste of space be allowed to exist on this plane.’
*** Time is fleeting ***
Morning passes begrudgingly into afternoon. The self loathing is only interrupted by thoughts of self harm and suicide.
The interesting part about my depression is, although I have suicide constantly circling in my brain, I’m too depressed to commit it. Except for one instance which left me in a comma for three and a half weeks.
‘A real pity, I thought I had it right.’
*** A jump in time ***
I try to distract my though with Facebook, it doesn’t really help. I painfully try to read the articles, it helps a little although, I tune in and out of reality realising I’ve been reading the same thing for half an hour.
*** Adventures in the darkness ***
I have to go and buy some supply. It was one of the thoughts I’ve had for most of the morning. Procrastination is one of my specialties. It’s turning into late afternoon, so begrudgingly it get ready.
‘ I hate people..!’
Well, most of them anyway.
Through painful actions, I am ready to be assaulted by life. With my sunglasses, so nobody can see my eyes, my headphones helps the experience be a little better… but only a little.
One thing I can do is get to the bus stop with ten minutes to spare. As I’m walking towards it, I’m praying that no one will be there.
I crank up the music, the screaming voice is subdue. Although, they are still there.
Thankfully, the bus stop is vacate. After what seems like an eternity, the bus arrives. I try and sit at the front off the bus, less chance of incidental chatting.
*** Eternity rolls on ***
After what seemed like forever, I got off the bus. The trudge to the shop was uneventful. Entering the grocery store was another story. It was bright and noisy, even the headphones on. With all the onslaught, came the confusion. After grabbing the bare necessities, I was to be questioned by the check-out person about how I felt.
‘Do you really want know, cause I’ll let you know..!’
All I could do was a cringe smile and a muttering ‘I’m fine.’ I gather up my shopping and leave.
*** Homeward bound ***
Waiting for the bus was intolerable, dodging looks. When the bus arrives, I’m always at the beginning of the line. I find my seat and wait for the rest of the passengers… and wait… and wait.
The bus filled up to capacity… Typical… The journey became extremely long and the sweating began in abundance… Typical… Finally my stop came and I exited the bus. My legs were a blur and I made it home.
*** A breath held, finally realised ***
As soon as I entered my place, the bag were dropped and I dived for my chair. The breath I didn’t realise I was holding was released. Out came my phone and gone was reality for a while at least.
Late evening had arrived and it was time for another handful of meds. The only thing for certain, was an hour after taking this lot of meds, it was lights out.
*** Nighty night, turn off the light ***
The hour was extinguished and my eyes dulled. Next target, bed..! As I lay, waiting for sleep to cascade over me, I mused my last muse as I drifted off…
‘Tomorrow will be a better day… ‘