Emotional Burden

I take things badly. A lot. Friends and family becoming ill, war, hunger, homelessness, death. I struggle to process these things.

I have discussed in previous posts that I consider myself very empathetic. I also discussed that this is not necessarily a bad thing. Despite this, I hate the burden that this makes me carry. I like the fact I care. I dislike that I care too much.

It’s like a physical weight bearing down on me, stopping me from continuing daily tasks. I want to function normally but I cannot stop thinking about the sadness and grief I (and others) feel. It’s very similar to depression; just as consuming but not quite as debilitating. I get the same slow, sluggish, ‘toned down’ feeling about life… as if everything is minus 100 speed. It’s a tricky feeling to have because even when I have plenty of good things in my life, I still feel the burden.

I’m keen to relieve myself of this burden however I don’t want to become ‘robotic.’ I don’t want to stop caring, or stop feeling. I want to be able to help people – that is what I love – but I don’t want to get so emotionally attached.

It is exhausting – feeling someone else’s grief. My partner is the exact opposite to me in this respect; they just say ‘oh that is awful/how sad/i hope they are OK’ and then they move on. I let it burn away and eat me up inside.

Is there a way I can detach myself from all of this?

Just Call On Me

I’ve noticed a pattern. Every time I start to get better; I put pressure on myself to help and support others. I feel like because I am doing OK, it is time to help those more needy. Therapy has taught me I am very empathetic. This, primarily, isn’t a bad trait but it does appear to let me down time and time again.

I have often been told that I care too much. It’s fine to care about the things that matter, sure. It’s the trivial things, other people’s problems, thing’s that don’t really affect me… they are what are my sticking point.

I’m not saying that I want to be LESS empathetic, I just want to get less sucked in to other’s peoples shit.

My therapist often asks me if I have ‘the resources’ to deal with a situation. They literally want me to see my mental health as a ‘pouring from an empty cup’ scenario. It is impossible. Of course it is. I don’t understand why it has taken me SO many years to grasp that I cannot run on empty. The constant pressure of jobs, children, families, friends – everything – makes me feel like I can’t stop.

Well of course I felt like this until I had a breakdown. I stopped being able to function correctly. I struggled to complete the most mundane of daily tasks. I got pretty good at sitting and crying though! Breakdown was a blessing. Much like lockdown. A stark, kick-in-the-teeth kind of reminder that I am not invincible. I cannot look after everyone.

As a result, I now try to categorise problems into little sections. Stuff I am capable of helping with, stuff that is totally out of my control etc. It’s not something that is coming easy to me. I find it infuriating to be honest. It is helping to put my worries and dilemmas into perspective though. It’s certainly a reality check! It’s insaaaanely easy for an outsider to tell me not to worry about something, that it is out of my control. It is not easy for me to put that into practice.

Take Covid-19 for example. I completely lost my shit about this initially, it terrified me. I had to be reminded – a lot – that it is totally out of my control. I can, however, control how I deal with it. I can protect myself by isolating, distancing, hygiene routines and avoiding crowds. It doesn’t make the problem go away but it helps alleviate the anxiety by being pro-active about it.

This leads me to a quote… “There are two types of people. Those who control their emotions and those who let their emotions control them.” Pretty fuckin profound eh.

Am I Making Myself Depressed?

I have learnt the difference between depression and depressive mood. Depression, generally, is a constant state of low mood. Depressive mood can fluctuate between positive mood and depressed mood.

I have been diagnosed as depressed. I am medicated for that.

It has really got me thinking. I -although diagnosed with depression – am generally a happy person. I find the beauty in the small things in life, I love intensely, I enjoy doing things and being around my favourite people. All these things – in my opinion – equate to happiness (I know this is measured on vast scales and differs from person to person but.. stick with me.)

I have good days and I have bad days. I experience the range of emotions that the majority of humans do – anger, disgust, surprise, contempt, happiness, sadness and fear.

I firmly believe I have not been equipped with the knowledge or resources to know how to deal with these emotions, until I sought help from a therapist. I rejected the idea that I deserved to be happy. I punished myself for achievements. I thought I was stupid and not worthy. This could be construed as depression, as the feeling of worthlessness overrides practical thoughts, yet I don’t think it is.

Punishing myself has always been my ‘go to’ emotion. I presume this is an effect of the trauma of bullying. The therapist informed me that learned behaviours – compulsions – like this are very hard to change, though not impossible. I suppose the reason for writing this down is to remind myself that this behaviour is not forever.

All of this leads me to think that maybe I am not suffering from depression? I may have been conditioned to believe so. If I can be happy at times then depressive mood may take over and swoop in, causing me to believe I am depressed. I don’t know. I’m not doctor, it’s just an idea.

Society is quick to give something a name or a label. I was happy to discover that I had depression! Not because I wanted it but because I could finally put a name to these feelings and find a cure (ha). Now that I am 15 years down the line, I recognise my naivety to thinking there was a quick fix.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not negating the doctor’s that diagnosed me (multiple times). I am sure they had their reasoning. I filled out forms and answered questions which obviously pointed to ‘depression.’ It’s just the idea that it is something less ‘permenant’ has struck a chord with me.

The two may seem much of a muchness, but to me depression is an all-consuming illness that takes over and swamps your mind and body. I don’t feel that every day. When I do feel it, it hits hard – but this is the same for the positive feelings I have too.

So I do ponder… am I making myself depressed? Has this diagnosis/label caused me to believe I am much worse than I really am? It’s possible. I am not underplaying the shit I have been through. Every part of this ‘journey’ has been valid and pretty fucking traumatic, I am just trying to see things from a different perspective for now. I am certainly going to think about this a lot more over the course of the next few weeks.