I really don’t know how to feel at the moment. I’m coming out of a few days or weeks (I forget) of bad depression and some good things have happened recently but I’m still not feeling very hopeful about the future.
I’ll start with the good, for a change. I got a First in my computer systems module at uni. The pessimist in me wants to tell you how the first year doesn’t count for anything and that it was an easy module, but I will try to ignore it. I’ve been determined to get good grades and not let the mental stuff interfere with my work as it did so much before and so far I’ve done reasonably well.
The university recommended we start looking for accommodation for next year soon, as all the good places are taken quickly. I was going to stay in a privately run halls-type place since I don’t have any friends with whom to look for a place of our own but I got a bit of a surprise. Two of the girls who live in my apartment found a really good house that they wanted, with 3 bedrooms and paid the deposit for the 3rd room between them so they could make sure no-one else would take it. Anyway, when I got back to uni after being ill, they asked if I wanted to live with them next year :-S I was quite shocked to be honest and I still don’t really know why they asked me. Maybe they know I’m trustworthy enough not to steal things and will probably pay the rent on time, but we’ve never really talked much and although I remember pretty much everything we’ve said to each other before (random note: I think being so socially deprived allows me to remember and assimilate much more from conversations than a lot of people. I’ll sometimes surprise people with some random thing from years ago that I remember) I don’t think they know hardly anything about me. We went to look around and it is a great place so after some consideration I decided to take it. It means I will at least know the people I’ll be with next year, and of the people in my apartment, I get on with those two the best.
The bad. I felt guilty signing the contract because I really don’t know if I’ll still be alive by that time. After worrying about that for a while, I made myself feel even worse that I must be subconsciously taking that idea seriously otherwise it wouldn’t bother me so much. I’m not sure if that makes sense… I feel sort of under pressure to resolve things by then, I don’t want to traumatise them by letting them discover my broken remains one morning.
It seems paradoxical, but my strongest suicidal feelings don’t necessarily correlate (there’s a less pretentious word but I can’t think of it) with my worst periods of depression. When I first started on antidepressants, the mental health practitioner told me that sometimes when very depressed people start them, it’s a dangerous time because they feel like they have the energy to kill themselves and sometimes go through with it (hence the black box warnings on them). I was lying about my history of suicidal ideation at the time, but I can sort of understand what she meant now. I don’t want to unduly worry anyone, I’m not about to do it right now, but it is rather disheartening that I am probably less depressed and am in a better position now than any time in the last 2 years but I still feel like I want to end it. I don’t want to experience the fall in mood, the drifting sadness and childish jealousy that overcomes me. I still check the price of my preferred method, I made a test order of zopiclone and it came through without problems so an unscheduled, non-controlled substance should have problems. Also I can sleep at night now.
I’m worried about how honest I should be at my CBT assessment. Full disclosure seems like a sure fire way for them to write me off and probably send people around to my house to interfere again. I think I’ll play it by ear.