Record-breaking Man Gets Self Out of Slump: a follow-up story

So yesterday I made a post brought on by a heavy bout of depression. I’m starting to notice patterns in what I call bouts.

Depression can feel like a full-time job for a while. Then it clears off and you’re yourself again.

Depression can also feel like a part-time job that you can’t quit because you need the money because your full-time job just ain’t cutting it.

I feel the latter always. I feel the former when the latter peaks. It comes in waves.

And I’m just watching from the shore.

Yesterday’s peak started Friday night and climaxed Saturday evening.

I believe I’m holding back a lot of feelings from my internship during the week. All pinned down with nowhere to go, they explode in a self-destructive, self harming manner.

I spent Saturday afternoon vegged out, physically numb, and thinking with an objective, gung-ho type outlook.

Gung-ho is a cooler way of saying apathetic, which is coincidentally the word I should have used.

Earlier in the day, my roommate mentioned about throwing a party at our off-campus apartment.

I gave an expressionless answer because I realized my brooding hours would likely be disturbed.

Nevertheless, I sat in my room for the hours of the afternoon smoking and ruminating as a Civilization 6 ran the computer to a boil.

I started growing agitated in my rumination. I realized my thoughts were bullying me in a brief flash of self-awareness.

Finally, I could no longer bear the thoughts invading my distractions. I exited the game and slammed my laptop down, pulling down the shade and jumping into bed.

The light was off as I laid blissfully in the darkness.

The bliss was momentary as it was followed by a strong desire to express my feelings.

This desire, a feeling in itself, took control over me. The depression was not there. Gone fishin’. It didn’t feel quite right; it felt fragile.

If I didn’t express myself in the right way, there could be consequences. This moment had magic in it, I had to use it for good.

So I made a blog post about how I was feeling. I externalized my depression. Hello world, this is me to show how I handle my wacky depression.

Immediately after posting, I fell into a deeper numbness and nodded off. A while into my rest, I heard footsteps at the door. My roommate knocks and enters to inform me the party has started and my presence requested.

I sat up, Who is requesting my presence? Friends from home, the homies! The guys you grew up with and that’s all you got in common. Hell yeah!

I tried to answer expressionlessly but it came out nervously and quite timid. My friend wanted me to have a good time and I didn’t trust him. When someone hesitates, they are looking for an excuse. When someone hesitates back and forth, they are battling trust. They are struggling with picking a side. They’re unsure.

Well I was pretty God damn unsure I could have a good time after making a depressing blog post and spending all day brooding alone.

He left me alone and I left him with a maybe. Maybe I can pull it together, maybe it doesn’t have to be this way right now.

That maybe got me downstairs, but not without a beer in my hand and juul rips on the way to the kitchen.

There’s about 12 dudes in my house. Okay, we’re chillin. Oh, the girls are coming? Oh, they’re here right now?

Can somebody say panic attack? What the fuck happened to you dude…?

I don’t know why I get nervous like this, if I did I’d never write about it because it’d never happen again.

Two girls roll in, young, both cute. Thick in their own ways. Thirsty boy, have a drink, huh?

Two girls with about 12 guys in the house; four of those people are having a “better” time.

A friend and I played drinking games with the two girls all night. Others joined in for a game or two never really sticking around.

At 12:30 the entire party bailed. I’m still trying to decide if that hurt or not. No, I think at that point I wanted them gone.

I was just getting tired, I had a lot of a good time but now I felt worn. In a good way, like a leather jacket.

I woke up hungover as hell, in survival mode. All I can think about is water, shower, brush teeth, eat food.

I went to the gym, drove around, cleaned up my house, and did laundry. A pretty productive day, but I have been avoiding something all day.

I’m even avoiding it now, taking an hour now to write a blog post that I could’ve done earlier.

I need to think about what happened yesterday. I need to process anything I failed to in the moment. I need to be positive about it, while also being pragmatic in approach. I should try to derive some happiness from the moment, rather than letting it’s meaning wither from my memory.

Look at me, just typing away the minutes. I feel like I’m about to knock out after wrapping this up. I’ll save my energy for thought.

Thanks for reading, sending love.