The Heavy Tiredness

Aka Depression.

I move with the agility of an 80 year old arthritic woman.  My walk is slow, I feel stiff even though there is no stiffness in my joints.  My face feels too heavy to smile and my jaw feels locked.
My joints though not stiff, ache. They ache from not having a proper amount of fat or muscle to cover them. It hurts to lay down in one position for too long.  Something falls asleep or a hip pops out of the socket and I am stuck in pain.

My doctor believes I am healthy as a horse and  just a "little" under weight.
My opinion, 92 lbs is too small even for a 24 year old 5.4 petite frame.
I eat, but it's becoming more and more forced.  I feel so detached at times.

I love my son and my husband but, I struggle feeling good enough for them.
Good enough to deserve them, good enough to be worthy of their love and affection towards me.
It's time again to see my therapist and doctor about increasing my meds.
I feel defeated in the need to do so. I feel like I failed on this smaller dose.

What are my rapists and abusers suffering?
Nothing, that's what.

Damn!

Here I am in therapy, on medication, in support groups, blogging, drawing and anything I can do to try and help myself recover and still...I am plagued with nightmares, this stupid depression and more.

Anger... how I hate that you are there and won't come out.
You frighten me and comfort me. I have no idea what to do with you and yet I want so badly to express you to a degree in which I would feel justified and effective.

Tears... where did you go? Do you not know I am hurting and need to feel you slowly run down my face like the caress of an angel letting me know it's real?

Fear... you're an unfortunate constant. You and anxiety seem to know where to find me easily enough. I feel as though you, like my father, and the devil laugh at my pain and enjoy torturing me.

Nightmares... Yes, you mental rapist. CURSE YOU! You love to chase me and trap me. It's a sick game of cat and mouse you play with my head at night. No matter where, when or how I sleep you are there. No matter how many times I wake up or jump in my sleep you infiltrate my head.

Shame... you haunt me still.  I told you, I was done with you and yet you come back and hang over me with the rest of the previously mentioned group members.

I hate you...all of you... depression and all you bring and steal from me.
This is a bad day...no, this is a bad week.
I'm so tired.