Last night was... difficult. I honestly don't know if it was part of my depression or something else, but I think I need to document it. Unlike the overwhelming numbness, apathy, and sense of isolation I normally associate with bad depressive episodes, this was a perfect storm of all my most negative emotions and self talk. I could feel, but I felt as though everything was horrible. I felt that asking for help was manipulative of and unfair to those around me, and when help was offered it seemed to me that it could not touch what I was feeling or solve the problems I perceived.
For at least the better part of an hour, Jerk Brain took full control and refused to budge.
It actually started a few hours before Jerk Brain's hostile takeover. I had been at a game with friends, including my wonderful partner. It was our second get-together of the day, and concluded around eight or nine in the evening. Some time on the drive home, I began to feel grumpy when my partner talked about things in which I was not directly involved, but I put it down to my social energy being drained by the day's events. Therefor, when we arrived home I pleaded tiredness and immediately retreated to the bedroom while my boyfriend engaged our roommate in small talk.
Perhaps an hour later, I realized that my bad mood was not dissipating. Since my partner has an excellent track record for making me smile no matter how irritable I am, I messaged him, asking for cuddles whenever he finished his conversation. A relatively short time later, he obliged, and at first it seemed that - as is often the case - his presence would soothe my emotions without much effort.
Unfortunately, that proved not to be the case.
The chime of a notification on his phone interrupted us, and I told him (honestly) that I didn't mind his pausing to deal with it. Shortly after his attention was diverted, however, my negative emotions came roaring back. Hovering barely above the threshold of conscious thought, Jerk Brain whispered that I wasn't important enough to keep my boyfriend's interest and attention, that asking for the attention I wanted and needed was selfish and manipulative, that he deserved better than my neediness. Before long, I rolled over and curled myself into a miserable knot, convinced that I didn't deserve any help to feel better, simply because I needed help to feel better.
Luckily for me, the man I am dating is both perceptive and determined.
I don't remember all the details of what we said to each other, nor do I particularly want to relive them. I do know that I spent most of the next hour (if not more) crying and alternately clinging to my partner and trying to reject his help. I was irrationally convinced that if I just explained properly how this meltdown was my fault, he would abandon me and find someone "less broken." I wanted him to do it, because I was convinced he deserved better, and I loved him enough to want that for him, even though it tore me apart to even think of him leaving.
I also know that he met all of my hysterical, irrational arguments with kindness and respect, and a gentle but implacable determination to see me though the storm. I remember at one point I told him I couldn't kiss his mouth right then, and he stopped initiating those kisses, but never stopped reassuring me that he loved me. I remember being frustrated at his obstinate refusal to see that I did not deserve his love and his support. He told me, repeatedly and in as many different ways as he could think of, that he wasn't going anywhere. That he didn't expect me to be perfect and that he was going to stick it out with me.
And then, even faster than it began, the storm passed.
It seemed as if, between one breath and the next, Jerk Brain lost its grip on me. Suddenly the oppressive certainty of my unworthiness lifted, and I could think clearly again. I saw my irrational thoughts for what they were, and felt overwhelming love and gratitude to my boyfriend for standing by me and refusing to let me push him away. Now, twenty four hours later, I still don't know why it happened or how to prevent it.
But at least I know that I can survive the storm.
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