I think that, for most of my life, the key component of my identity has been depression. I was content being angry at existence. I accepted the frustrations of my life. Yet, even as my life continues to change, I run into the same problems again and again. I know this, because one of my ways of dealing with them is writing. And from year to year, though they are always about different people (my problems usually center on people, or at least, that's who I blame), the stories are the same. The feelings, the anxieties, the need to run away and hide in the woods, are constant themes. Objectively, I'm not really sure I like myself, because of my inability to deal with situations objectively. That's why, the night before an exam in a class I am probably failing, I am writing instead of studying. And I didn't study at all up until now, so...
The inability to control my study habits is a relatively new thing. That's something that generally I've been very good at. Why it's different now, I can't really tell. I feel like I'm losing control of my brain. That's why I self-diagnosed with beginning stages of schizophrenia; this general paranoia, scattered thoughts, inability to get organized, overwhelming obsessions...
Are these things that I'm capable of overcoming by sheer willpower? Am I supposed to? Is this something that medication can help? Or are my instincts pointing me in the right direction? Do I really just need a nice, long, deadline-free rest?
Today my boss suggested that I could take two weeks off. I am convinced that that would not work. Every evening would be spent counting down to when I had to get back to the grind stone. If I'm right, this is not normal burnout. This is very deep, damaging burn out. That's going to take a lot more than two weeks to heal. I haven't had a truly relaxing break... I'm going to say ever. From the beginning of high school until now, the only time I wasn't doing something educational/deadlined/stressful was when I was coming down from a prescribed methylphenidate accidental overdose. That was a winter break. And I was still experiencing symptoms a month after I was back in school. But I did very well that semester. Even suffering prejudicial abuse from a neighbor and boy problems, I was able to crack down on my studies. That three week winter break was the only true break I've had in seven years, and anything before that involved being with my mother, who is more fucked up than me, or my east coast family that I really have no emotional connection with, and its awkward, not relaxing at all.
The past year has been different. Without any boy problems or abusive peer problems or drug problems, I am performing worse than ever. If I was just burned out after a particularly hard semester, a 5 week push through too much work in not enough time, then yes, a single week of rest would be the ticket. But this is not that. My brain has disengaged that part of me that strove, that could get up at four in the morning to start studying, that scheduled everything 2 weeks in advance. I feel like I've lost that piece of myself. And the only was I can explain it, is with that other thing that I've always used to define myself; mentally sick.
I understand why people are unsympathetic towards we who express a general dissatisfaction with our level of satisfaction. It's hard to pinpoint, so we call it "depression" with a cringe and a shrug. Because while labels help give legitimacy, this particular one is so cloudy, that its reasonable for an outsider to see it as a lame excuse for not getting one's act together.
But I think everyone would experience a shock if they were transported into another person's head, to understand not only how they think, but how their thoughts and actions are not under any conscious, reflective control. I can reflect on my bad organization until the cows come home, but I only wish you could be inside my brain to experience the literal disconnect between motivation and action. There is a slick glass wall between me and my self-actualization. To some extent, I can't bring myself to try to scale that wall; I am too tired as it is. But recently it feels as though trying is futile. For about a week there I got my act together enough to really cram for a test. That was directly following spring break. I was able to sleep in until 11am. I wonder if that mattered. But now its fallen apart again. And I don't think the punishment from my boss has helped, especially with the lack of positive reinforcement for my good work.
Reviewing that, one can see how this situation is almost designed for me to stop trying. Perfection begets no external social reward (I just want someone who knows what I'm doing to say "good job"; not my mom, not my friends. A professor or TA or fellow classmate who recognizes exactly what I overcame), and anything short of perfection begets a tongue-lashing. Who can continue in that state?
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