When I was first diagnosed with depression, I was put in this program called the "Intergrative Outpatient Program". "I.O.P." In this program we had to do activities, watch videos, ect. In one of the activities we had to make a scale of sorts. 1 was completely fine, happy and 10 was feeling the worst you've ever felt. For me I saw 1o as something along the lines of killing myself. We had to put things we felt we would do on a number on the scale, ways we would behave.
I started at 7, I left 1-6 blank because I lived in 5 and 6. I put under 7 and 8 I would overeat but under 9 and 10 I put that I wouldn't eat at all. But the thing is that I didn't know that what I was feeling was depression, or even sadness, I thought it was just the way people feel, so I lied, I just put something random down because we had to put something down. I had never gotten to a 7, let alone a 9. The ironic thing is when I finally got to a 7 and an 8, I ate so much I felt like if I'd move I'd puke it all back up and I still do that when I'm there. And when I finally got to a 9, I stopped eating almost completely, I went two weeks eating nothing more than one meal over the entirety of that time. I just laid in bed not moving, just getting up when my bladder felt like it was going to burst. It didn't matter how much my body was fighting my mind. I was paralyzed, not able to do anything but sit in the darkness I was surrounded in. Another funny thing, it took me two months to really crawl out of that darkness and now I feel myself sinking back in.
Ironic, I got to a 7 and I overate.
Ironic, I got to a 9 and I didn't eat at all.
Ironic, don't you think?
YOU ARE READING
Depressing Stuff
PoetryIn the title, mostly me just venting about life... I write all of these if it's not mine I'll say so *spelling corrections coming soon
