27 Mar 2017 - Positive Feedback

Evening. 

Day 32 on Lexapro. I didn't skip another dose. 

Mood: 4.

Nothing much happened today. I composed a longish message to Favorite Person, and I don't see a point in not sharing what I said here:

Good evening [redacted], There's a lot that has been on my mind as of late, and while I originally wanted to send this all as an email, I don't want to hide behind a less personal platform. First and foremost, I want to say that being in your presence in any sense of the term - be that in the physical space or in instant communications - makes me feel guilty and uncomfortable now, because while I desperately want to talk to and spend time with you, the feeling that you merely tolerate me and either don't enjoy or are outright annoyed by my existence is becoming harder to reason away or ignore. I don't know if I'm picking up on something that isn't there, or if things have ever so slightly changed, but the sensation is there, and it's unpleasant. I'm not blaming you for anything or anything like that, and I know that the feeling is a depression lie with no basis in reality, but I can't get rid of it. Likewise, I feel guilty about how heavily I depend on you to meet my needs for socialization, contact, and support, the possessiveness that dependency generates, and all that it implies. I recognize that it's unhealthy for both you and for myself, and a better person would take the initiative to find ways to resolve the issue rather than allowing themselves to latch on harder and feel worse as time goes on. As I've said in the past, I constantly fear that one day, I will have outlived my usefulness to you and will be excised; my knee-jerk response to want to cling to you like a parasite generates a wave of guilt whenever it arises, and is suppressed. Furthermore, as time passes, the belief that I fundamentally do not deserve the companionship I find in you is a thought that comes up with increasing frequency. It's hard for me to justify the expenditure of limited mental resources to maintain this friendship when I, in my heart of hearts, feel that I'm taking something that should never rightfully belong to me. I'm not saying this to say that I've made the decision to excise myself, because aside from the fact that I know that that would be a self-inflicted wound a far cry in lethality from the scars that decorate my skin now, you're one of the rare people that I truly and genuinely like, even if your positivity and optimism get on my nerves at times. I find myself in a catch-22 of sorts here, and as with every other psychological catch-22 I create for myself, every outcome is a net loss. I no longer know how much of my perception of things is due to my nature and how much is due to my depression; the two are indistinguishable at this point. I miss enjoying things, I miss being happy, I miss being able to talk to you without second-guessing. I'm sorry if I'm a pain.

Her response (I won't reproduce it here) boiled down to a few points: 

• The only thing that's annoying is when you believe that you're not worth it, cut yourself off, and don't engage.
• I try to help, but I understand that I can't fix you, and that things aren't completely in your control. 
• I'm not going anywhere.

A normal person would be comforted by a response like that in this context but...hearing it somehow makes me feel worse. It's like I'm digging myself into a hole, where every action to attempt to climb out results in me just deepening it. 

I want to eventually hone my drawing skills, so that I can express what I feel and perceive in comic form. That's a challenge for another day, though. 

Until then. 

27 Mar 2017