I’m afraid of happiness.
I’ve always thought I cling onto my depression. And, like I said, it has to do with fear of happiness. Or, better said, fear of the unknown. I can’t say there have not been moments where I have felt happy. But they have been just that, moments. On the whole, I think I have a bit of characterological depression (see this post by Haven at Beyond the Borderline Personality).
The truth is, depression is a darkness I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. It’s not something I want to have. However, I fear what would happen in my life if I didn’t feel that darkness within me. I have always been depressed, to some extent. Hell, I recently read my diary from when I was 9 years old and in one of the entries I wrote: “I hate my life.” I have always been this way, there is no other reality I know of. Thus, I fear that if I were to be happy I would stop being me (whoever that is).
Also, like I said in my previous post, my past history of bullying has a lot to do with my fear of happiness. I was always made fun of at moments in my life when I felt joy, or happiness. So, I fear that if I demonstrate happiness, I will be ridiculed. It sounds almost irrational, but I’ve been conditioned to think that I’m not supposed to be happy. I don’t deserve it.
Finally, I fear happiness because it would potentially mean the end of my therapeutic relationship with M. I constantly avoid explicitly telling her that my depression has gotten better, simply because I fear it would mean the end of the relationship. I also fear abandonment to the extreme, so this also affects my recovery terribly. Unfortunately, though, I know this has to happen eventually if I want to get better. This brings me to the questions: Am I even ready for recovery? Do I truly want this for myself?
I know it has a lot to do with BPD, because like I said, I fear abandonment, and losing the therapeutic relationship would mean abandonment to my irrational brain. What I mean is, I would rather stay miserable than lose my relationship with M and feel abandoned. It makes recovery from depression a thousand times harder. I cling onto my depression because it gives me the attention my BPD brain craves. That’s why sometimes I feel ready for recovery, while other times I push back and think recovery is the enemy.
Well, that’s enough for today. I have to study for my coming test or else I won’t be able to be a doctor 😦