It wasn’t supposed to be like this. At least, I never
imagined myself in such a bleak existence. Wait a minute, there’s no way that’s
true. My subconscious must have worked overtime eradicating any last vestige still
clinging to the surface of my mind likely to shine any light my prior
predicament.
In all honesty, I find myself genuinely staggered by the
relative, and generally unacknowledged, ease with which I’ve been able to
suppress memories during this time. It’s only when I close my eyes and
consciously peel back the extensive layers that normally serve as a protective
barrier against any bitter recollections. Before I go any further down this
rabbit hole, I should probably go back to the beginning and focus on getting
that on paper before anything else.
The date as I write this is December 19, 2011. This past
year marked my 27th birthday, and while technically speaking I’m
still considered something of a young man (at least I hope so) it’s a
struggle not to feel as though the pinnacle of my life has already come and
gone. I’ve no doubt it’s a fairly common state of mind for anyone over the age
of 21, but it’s a negative mindset that’s been particularly vexing for me
during my fight against depression. The sheer number of days I’ve lost
paralyzed in a state of mental apathy are too numerous to spend a single
instant dwelling on, lest I unbalance my already precarious emotional
equilibrium.
For as far back as I can remember, I’ve always recognized
that there was something different about my thought processes. This isn’t to
say that as a youngster I experienced any full blown outbreaks of anxiety or
depression but rather that from the very moment I became conceptually aware of
myself as an individual I noticed I was different from my peers.
I don’t mean any kind of difference that was overtly
apparent as an obvious departure from the commonly accepted kindergartner but
instead something far more subtle. The trait I soon felt absent from the other
kids my age was essentially an overactive sense of empathy. That describes my
feeling in the most simplified of terms and exactly how I perceived the notion
at the time. In practical terms this aspect of my personality made me far more
vulnerable on an emotional level. My feelings seemed to be in a constant state
of turmoil, perched on the absolute edge of an abyss that required only the slightest
nudge to topple forward and transform me into a state of either inconsolable
rage or tearful sadness.
