Depression makes you immobile and incapable. It's like it takes your arms and legs away for a few weeks, or months. I'm not physically incapable but the areas in my brain that should be firing off the command to do these things isn't working.
I'm day 2 into the symptoms becoming problematic and beginning to interrupt my ability to operate. I woke up at 6:30 am today but didn't get out of bed until 9:15. Yesterday I woke up the same time but didn't get out of bed until 10am. That's not good. Sleeping in, or even laying in bed for that much time after I've woken up is not ok. Most people would think that's great- wake up when you want and have the luxury of staying in bed until you want, getting more relaxation time snuggled up in bed during the cold days of winter. Sounds great, right? It's what everyone rushing off to work thinks about every morning while getting ready for the day.
That's the problem- I don't want to be there. I don't want to be in bed, I don't want to mindlessly veg out on my phone or fall back asleep. I want to get up and start my day, get on top of everything I need to be doing at this dire moment in life.
But I can't.
My mind checks out on me. I tell myself 5 more minutes, or that I'm going to put my phone down after I read this one last article, but an hour will go by and I'll take no notice of it. It's just *poof* 2 hours later and I've done nothing mentally or physically. When I am finally able to get out of bed I feel absolutely awful, mostly for not getting up sooner, and that's when the best part of my day starts. I start beating myself up.
"You're lazy. You lost your job and spend your morning doing nothing."
"You can't get out of bed, how do you expect to do much else today?"
"How do you expect to do much else in life?"
"Other people out there are actually sick or physically disabled. Your legs work just fine."
"Remember that big project you've been working on? How about you just give up on it. You know you're going to anyway, just admit you're a failure."
"Every minute you spend in bed is one less minute you get to enjoy today. You're just throwing your life away."
"Don't think this morning was it. You're going to get lazier and lazier and eventually you'll be spending only a few hours a day just trying to get something productive done."
"You probably shouldn't even try."
"You know what? I know you won't even try. Because that's who you are."
Depression talks to you, through you. It doesn't directly control me, it manipulates me. When I'm hypomanic or manic by brain just tells me what to do "go jump off that curb, go write a whole book in a week, go repaint every ceiling in the house for no reason." Depression manipulates you. It uses your own thoughts against you.
You're not a willing participant, you're a prisoner.