Too far away

My boyfriend is depressed... and it's making me depressed.

I mean, I've dealt with depression on my own before. All through middle and most of high school, I suffered from depression--severe boredom, no motivation, etc.--and I know how it feels to think that life is not worth living, because it's too mundane...

And even though I eventually got over it, I don't know how to fix it, especially from far away. If I were with Kyle right now, then I'd be doing my best to show him that I love him and need him, and he'd snap out of it--he always has in the past. But he's not doing so hot right now, and I feel like it's my fault on some level. He has been this way since I moved, pretty much. If I were there, then he would have something to distract him. But because I am not a part of his everyday life, he's focusing on how mundane things can be. And believe me, living here has taught me that, if nothing else.

How am I supposed to help a significant other when I can't touch them, I can't wipe their tears away? He says he just needs a hug, and I feel the same way. Even writing this, I am tearing up, because I can't stand to think of my boy being in pain. It breaks my heart.

I'm trying to live my everyday life like things are fine. I smile at people--even strangers--and I do the work that needs to be done. But at the end of the day--more like at some point in the early morning--when I lay down to sleep, I can't think of anything except how I wish I could help Kyle. He's done so much for me, and I want to protect him. Call it a misplaced maternal instinct, but I do think of it as my responsibility to keep him safe, happy and healthy.

Otherwise, life has been dull. I mean, even this problem is dull in a sense; not because I want to belittle how Kyle feels, but because being bored is exactly what it is. Depression has never meant sadness to me. Yes, it comes with sadness, frustration, and even anger... but the root of it is boredom. Life seems uninteresting... even things that life can offer. Nowhere in the world seems exotic enough. No act seems extreme enough. I think that's why a lot of people choose death when they are depressed; it's the most extreme thing you can do.

When I was younger, I used to cut myself. I don't tell many people this, because honestly, I think it's my own damn business, and those who are candid about this are usually just looking for attention anyway. However, the proof of my angst--if you can call it that--is written all over my thighs. Wearing shorts or skirts still proves problematic. I have to cross my legs a certain way, so people think certain scars are stretch marks, and I cover what is obviously not naturally there.

I say this because, although cutting is usually not life-threatening--I never aimed to kill myself, and most cutters don't, either--it is an attempt to feel alive. Depression can make you feel numb. This is exactly why I hate pain-killers, including cocaine. It just makes me feel numb, and that's what I've been running from all my life. And this is exactly what Kyle is describing to me now. It's like all the adrenaline leaked from you, all the endorphins... It's weird how chemical our emotions are when it comes down to it. We can describe it in elaborate words, but it's still just imbalances and rushes.

Don't get me wrong; I love wordplay, especially when dealing with emotion. That's part of what makes us human; art and this idea that we should be happy. What other animal really has that?

I must go now. I'm rambling, and I'm a bit drunk.

Hopefully I will not be rambling at the empty internet soon enough.