I wrote this during the first week of November 2017 and haven’t edited it at all. See the end for an update from today.

Why am I writing all this? Mainly, I wrote it to even make sense of my situation. But why share it then? Because if not for a similar blogpost by a friend of mine I’d never even consider getting professional help. Maybe I can be the friend for someone else. That’s, at least, my motivation on concious level. On subconscious level the motivation might be a desire to communicate what I feel to others, I frankly don’t know.

Why is it in English? For some reason it’s way easier for me to be honest about my feelings and to be generally introspective in English. I don’t know why but I know I’m not the only one who’s this way.

I should be happy. Objectively my life is pretty much amazing. I have supportive family and amazing friends - both a few really close one - and plenty I can still rely on, I enjoy what I study, am good at it, and I know it will almost surely provide me with a financially stable future. My health is fine and while I know I’m no model I don’t have confidence issues regarding my looks either. It is true it that I’m no extrovert but socializing is not that big of a problem for me, luckily . All in all I know I have literally nothing to complain about.

Yet, there’re weeks and months every so often when I feel like there’s no future. Like nothing matters. As if there was not only no happiness, but also no true sadness, no reason to anything, just empty dread. Angst. Dark mist covering my mind. The important word there is feel. With the exception of the absolutely lowest moments, that I luckily went trough only twice in my life, I still know - on the conscious level - that I do amazing. That things still matter, that there’s future. That my mind is just being fucking stupid. And that I’ll cringe at the memories once it’s over. Yet, knowing all that does little help during those times. On the contrary it, in a way makes it even worse, because the conflict between what I know and what I feel makes me feel like I’m slowly loosing my mind.

There’re two types of these episodes for me. Longer ones that sometimes appear without any reason and last anywhere from a few days to two months. When they’re longer they usually behave as a wave, even during them there’re days that are ok (usually the beginning of a week) and days that are worse (Fridays and Sundays are particularly bad). These are, fortunately, mild. They decrease the quality of my life and prevent me from being as productive as I’d want to be but I can still appear as perfectly functional human being during them.

They’re like an ever-present mist. Whenever I’m not occupied by something else my mind goes to overanalyze whatever shit I’m currently experiencing which reinforces me feeling like a crap, which in turns prevents me being easily occupied by something else. Yet, when I really need to do something I can still force myself to do it. I can also break from it for an evening or sometimes even a bit longer trough for example going for a beer with someone. And I can appear as perfectly happy individual while I’m there. That said, the mist always reappears, usually the moment I leave the people and go home.

The worst thing about them, however, is neither the decreased productivity nor the immediate experience of them. The worst thing is that I know that they come on go. That even though the current one might soon be over another one will come again. And that it will drain the energy from me again. And again. And again. Again.

Then there’s the second type of episodes. Way shorter but also much, much, much worse. Imagine feeling like your brain screams all the time. Imagine wanting to sleep, to only sleep, because it’s literally the only thing that shuts it down. By screaming I don’t mean literal screaming, I don’t hear any voices. I’m not that type of crazy. It’s just that the thoughts about whatever the trigger for that particular episode was and the feeling of angst is just… deafeningly loud. It’s hard to describe.

These are not like being in a mist that sometimes lifts for a few moments. These are like being in an - pardon me for using this old metaphor - abyss. There’s seemingly no way out. There’s only dense darkness. And it doesn’t lift, not even for a little bit. And there’re moments, there’re moments when one can’t see a solution in this state. When one might even be theoretically suicidal. Not because what happened to him was so bad, one still understand that objectively he’s living the dream. But that’s no comfort for one. The emotional pain, at that moment, seem so bad that there’s nothing like objectivity. There’s nothing like facts or events. Or tomorrow that will be better. There’s only the prospect that the feeling might happen again, might continue for a few more days… and that’s borderline unbearable.

Luckily they’re shorter. I’ve never had one for more than a few days. And just like the first type of episodes they just stop without any apparent reason. One day I go to sleep absolutely miserable the other I wake up cringing at the memory of not being able to function properly for no justifiable reason. Sometimes they go straight into episode one type of things but not always. And even when they do there’s usually a day or two period of being just ok.

Both type one and type two usually have some triggers. In my case these are relationship related things. In case of type two these were always ends of relationships. Reading this you’re probably thinking that I’m making a bit too much fuzz about just sucking at handling the ends of relationships and you’d have every right to think that. Frankly, I was quite sure that’s the case as well.

I don’t think it’s just that anymore, however. The reason for is how I went trough the end of my last relationship. After my ex broke up with me I got normally sad. By normally sad I mean I was emotionally destroyed. It affected me a lot, a lot more than I anticipated, yet it was very different that the second type of episodes. I felt sad. Really sad. I cried a lot (and trust me, I don’t usually cry, yet in this case I started crying in a bloody Billa because it reminded me buying stuff and then baking together). I also slept a lot during that time to escape the feelings. But I understood why I was feeling that way. Even on concious level all the feelings had a reason in my mind. I missed her. I regretted what I did wrong. I was disappointed by the things I thought she could’ve done better. But while I was felt hopeless about the present at that time I did not questioned the future, the reason to go on. I felt sad. I felt down. But I never felt empty. I was angry at myself. A lot even. I felt a lot of things. But none of them felt like a dark cloud. It wasn’t an abyss. It made sense, though a sad one.

This period of what I think is normal after a breakup lasted a few weeks, maybe a month. After that I got better for a few days and thought I was relatively over it. And then, without any new input, without any reason, type two episode hit me. Because it’s trigger, or theme if you will, was the relationship my mind was absolutely full of it. Yet I felt very different than in the immediate post breakup phase. Where there was sadness was now emptiness and resignation. Where there was understanding why I felt that way was now a conflict between the fact that I felt the worst I’ve ever felt in my life and the fact that on concious level I thought I was over it and I believed my mind was just being stupid.

And that’s just one example. Whenever I had type two episode something it followed similar pattern. There was some situation that triggered it. A situation that warranted some reaction - some period of sadness - but not that. Not even close.

Type one is a bit weirder. In addition to happening after type 2 they also sometimes happens seemingly without any reason. And they ends the same way, without anything changing. They’re just gone one morning. They are a bit more frequent when I’m not currently in a relationship but even when I was in a happy one I still experienced them once or twice. While a relationship does not prevent them, it helps go through them quicker, however. So in case you’re reading it, you helped. Quite a bit.

Having realized all that and frankly slowly starting to think I’m loosing control I’ve decided to acknowledge that I might have objective issues. And just as I’d go to a specialist with a broken bone I’ve decided to try professional help as well. Hurray for Peter who has, as of right now, both a psychologist and a psychiatrist.

Right now you might think I’m being overly dramatic. And, again, you’re right. I wrote this feeling quite shit and when I read it the following morning I couldn’t help myself but cringe at the text. But being honest this is how I feel during the low points.

Update written during the third week of March 2018: It got better. With a short exception after Christmas I’ve felt quite fine ever since early December. While there were some hiccups in my life during mid March they haven’t been accompanied by these episodes which is quite frakly awesome :). I visited the psychiatrist only once and made a deal with her that should my mental state go south again I’ll visit her immediately. I keep visiting the psychologist every month or so. Neither of these helped me miraculously, maybe - quite possibly - I didn’t even need them. That said, I’m happy I visited both of them. This way I’ll never have to think “maybe had I paid them a visit everything could’ve been better way sooner”. And that’s not nothing.

PS: If you’re one of my amazing close or not so close friends who suspected something and did something, however small, I probably didn’t thank you. I might’ve even looked as you didn’t help at all. You did. You made a world of difference. Thank you.

PPS: If you want to understand it better, I can’t recommend anything better than this interview: https://wave.rozhlas.cz/deprese-prichazi-kdyz-o-sebe-nedbas-a-u-piva-se-z-ni-nevymluvis-rika-kamil-fila-5965649