Today there is a leak in my bathroom ceiling. Whilst I am aware that this is only a minor concern, something that can be fixed and really not that big of a deal, today this has really gotten to me.
For some reason when I am in a depressive episode, when something bad or just annoying happens, this small issue takes on a life of its own. Due to the fact that I am already sad every problem seems dramatic and like another weight on my load that I just cannot bear. Also, I take these issues to mean something which they do not. For example, when I discovered this leak in my ceiling (which, by the way, has prevented me from having a shower or even a pee this morning) I irrationally decided that this must be a sign. A sign that I should not be at University, like the Universe is trying to send me cosmic messages about my non-academic destiny through a soggy, dripping ceiling.
Since I have moved into this room at University it has seemed to inundate me with problems, problems which someone in a good mental state could probably handle but for me just keep piling up and never getting solved. My curtain is hanging off its rail, there is a damp problem, there are creepy crawlies EVERYWHERE, one of my drawers is broken, the wifi doesn’t work properly and my bed is rock hard. Individually these are all just little inconveniences but collectively they are piling on top of my low mood and pushing me further down the rabbit hole of depression.
Considering that my room is where I spend most of my time because I am often too socially anxious to go out exploring the campus for too long, I wanted this room to be my safe haven. Somewhere I could come back to and relax and feel comfortable. Now I simply feel that it is a space which is conspiring against me and forcing me to confront more and more problems.