Trouble Sleeping

Wide awake after less than 5 hours of sleep. My alarm goes off in an hour for my work day which starts at 6am. Problems--and life in general--seem so much worse late at night and early in the morning. During the day I can often distract myself from my anxiety and depression, at least for a little while, so I can make it through yet another meaningless 24-hours of my existence--but when it's dark and quiet the things I've tried so hard to ignore for so very long seem overwhelming. My insecurities stalk me during the day, and when I'm alone with my thoughts they seem to suffocate me--thoughts of being unlovable, worthless, never good enough, fatally flawed. I've noticed that it never matters what I'm told about myself. I feel completely impervious to compliments, and almost suspicious of the givers. Why do you like me? What is it about me that you even find tolerable, let alone lovable and praise-worthy?

Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in my thoughts. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only person in the world, the only person who has ever felt this way, and the only one who's lying here on yet another sleepless night, wondering what now? Where do I go from here? How do I get up tomorrow and do it all over again, pretend that nothing is wrong, pretend that my life hasn't become completely empty and unbearable with this depression that I lug with me every hour of the day like a heavy cloak? 

Pretending that nothing is wrong. It's such a ridiculous task to undertake. Why do we do this? Why has it become the norm in society to just smile, to brush it off, to suck it up, to fake it? What would happen if a friend asked me how I was doing and I said, "Not well, actually. I'm going through an extraordinarily deep depression. In fact, I struggled to even get out of bed this morning." It would be shocking, perhaps, if it were just me--but I suspect that so many people with whom I come in contact during my day aren't doing well, either. We're all stuck here together in this life with very human emotions--fear, sadness, disappointment, anxiousness, regret--so why has it become the norm for everyone to pretend that none of these emotions exist out in public?

Then there's the thought that maybe people don't really want to know how you're actually feeling. Maybe that's why we never truly say how we're doing. Maybe they're all just slogging through their day, too, and trying to ignore how they really feel--maybe hearing that someone else isn't doing well just isn't something they know how to process--or have the strength to. 

Why is life like this? I didn't feel this way when I was very young. I wasn't depressed. I wasn't anxious nearly all the time. I never had trouble sleeping. It seems the longer I exist the more things I find to be depressed and anxious about. Like right now, as I'm sitting here awake hours before the sun rises, writing out my feelings that I'm scared to talk about. I feel very alone in all the world. Am I?