Better

Today my spirits picked up, although I still find myself very low key & reflective. I went to work and ended up working in a different wing which means I met some new people. I didn't know how that would be for me, not really knowing where my mood was going today, after a very bad day yesterday, and whether or not I'd feel really uncomfortable and avoidant, or what, but it turns out I was very level, and the effect of hearing different people's different stories was one of refreshment. I love the elderly so much, it's like they feed my soul.

I guess I'm going to have to take this day by day. I've never really known a bad day like yesterday while being on antidepressants, it really frightened me into thinking they had stopped working. It felt almost as bad as when I was off them last. This is new and very alarming to me. I'll have to brace myself for a different ride this time I guess. Right now it feels like I'll be able to handle it. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Discouraged

Nothing seems worth the effort the past few days. I took a few days off work thinking I was coming down with something. Seems I was, but it probably isn't virus related. I thought the Cymbalta was working really well. Not sure why I'm so melancholy. It's not hormone related that I know of. Although after watching Oprah today I think I will get my hormone levels checked. I'm now officially 'in my 40's'. Scary when I feel little more than 12 sometimes. I told my wonderful counsellor today that I couldn't afford her weekly sessions. She didn't say much, but set me up with a few alternative resources. Nothing I'll probably persue. I feel like nothing is ever going to work, or is even worth it. Self-pity? Maybe, but I think it's pretty realistic at the same time. Life. Fuck it.

sdfs

The good thing about banging your head against a wall? It's amazing how good it feels when you stop. That's kind of how I've been feeling lately about being back on meds. The feeling that this is sooo much better. I'd forgotten the part that happens after that however. The 'now what' empty feeling. Like there's a bubble forming around me very slowly but surely that creates a disconnect between me and the world. I'm not going to go on complaining about it however, as it beats the alternative. Things could suck a lot worse.

I'm determined that this issue won't impede my main goal of the year though. It's going to make it a lot tougher, and probably draw the process out a lot longer, but I WILL make progress. That goal being to deal with some of the unresolved anger/hurt I've been stuffing down for years. It's time.

I was reading a post by P.J. about this, and it reinforced what I've been thinking about for quite a while now. It's time to actually deal with some of this stuff I'm carrying around. It's just getting in the way of so much... most of all my ability to connect with others. It may even be possible to try another stint of being med free in the long run. But I'm not going to rush into that one by a long shot. This past depression really scared me. My suicidal thoughts were getting far too out of hand. I really felt out of control.

In a way I feel out of control now too, as in, I just can't seem to focus on anything. But at least I'm still in the game. I suppose a dumbed-down me is better than no me at all. Although there've been times when I didn't agree myself on this one.

Released From Hell

Phew. Well, after Day 11 on Cymbalta, I was back. The world no longer seemed a living hell - a place I looked desperately for an escape from. I was getting so desperate. Gathering old meds and keeping them stashed in my bedside table, just in case. And living, after all, is the goal of all this isn't it? Now I can move on to Living Well. A goal I'm taking on very slowly. First I have to figure out what that means for me. I'm just enjoying the feeling of being in a safe place for now.

Thank you all for your kind comments. I'm so grateful for each one, it makes me feel so much less alone in this.

Do any of you have others in your life to share your inner experiences with? I mean real-life people who know what you're going through? Who perhaps battle depression/bipolar as well? I find that the hardest part of living - feeling like I have a big secret and having no one to talk to about any of this. The people I have opened up to, really don't understand. They mean well, but it feels like they're on a different planet, it's impossible for them to relate. My counsellor is the only person I have to talk to, and I'm soooo grateful for her, and that I started up counselling again.

But as for day to day life... it's hard feeling seperate. Especially at work. It kind of feels like everyone else is part of this club... the 'normal club' perhaps, (although, believe me, I do know there's no such thing as normal, and that others have their secret troubles as well), and that I'm on the outside looking in. Never quite fitting in. That seems to be a repetitive theme throughout my life. And is mostly a result of thinking errors I'm sure. Yet, deep down I think I'm partly right. I am kind of different at a core level. Damaged I think. Unable to connect to people, and stay connected. I can connect, and often do too deeply, and then I'm backpedalling like crazy.... avoiding, putting up walls. And yet, I come across as pretty darned normal. I've done a fine job in this acting academy called life, so far.

Yet, I wonder what people at work must think of me as far as the change in mood goes. For a few months there I was steadily going down hill, quite noticably, despite my efforts..... untalkative, red eyes, avoidant, etc. etc. And then as if overnight (when my meds kick in, they really kick in) I was all smiles and cheer, joking around as per the old coco. That must have seemed pretty strange. And I did try to tame it down as much as I could, but DAMN it felt good to be rid of that heavy weight! I felt like kissing everyone I was so releived!

Anyway, it feels good to have the time to write a bit this morning. The 3 older kids are with their Dad for a few days now, so it's just me and my little big girl who just turned 4. Who is still snoozing away might I add! Ah ...time to myself with a coffee and my lappie! A rare luxury! Now off to read a few of your blogs. Life is good.

Me in the arms of my big brother... a picture that always makes me feel loved :)

Soul Suckers

I'm sorry if I'm not commenting on people's comments, like I used to. Please know that I'm very appreciative of the kindness and energy it takes to do so. It really does help to feel that connnection, so thanks.

I've relented and started up the Cymbalta. Day 2 of it today. I can report very few changes so far except an increase in anxiety. An increase in anxiety, yet less of an inclination to get angry. I'm a bit more subdued that way. That makes no sense, but trust me, it does to me. There's an element of fear to the anxiety. Maybe fear is always present in anxiety; does anyone else think they go hand in hand?

My decision to go back on an AD was painful, but rather simple. No, I do not want to go this route. But after much introspection and hairpulling have finally come to the conclusion that this is what's best for my kids. I'm losing ground with each day that passes, and I can't be guaranteed of a lift out of this with any of the alternative ways of dealing with depression. They all take more time than I have. The one's I've tried so far haven't done a damn thing, and I've been trying them for months. (excercise, omega3's and light therapy)

At least this way I know that in a few weeks I'll be able to function; able to play with them, listen to them, cook properly for them; do all the things a healthy mom does with their children. I can't risk taking another route and failing right now. Their emotional well-being and development is at risk. This is the most demanding of all possible jobs, and I don't have the luxury of going another route. And do you know how pissed off that makes me????

Very. I love my kids dearly, so I hope in therapy I can deal with some of these feelings of resentment. I know full well that none of this is their fault. OF COURSE! And yet why do I feel resentment every time I envision someone who is able to work on their mental health without the complication of children. I feel backed against a wall. The visions I have of me participating in some sort of holistic healing plan seem like they're getting snatched out the air. Because I am NEEDED. Down here. My soul screams in rage and pain. Melodramatic aren't I? Yeah, but keep it here, no one else suspects.

I need to get well. For them, for me. And yet it seems like an impossible dream. I honestly don't think it's within my reach. Even if I do 'feel better' on those soul-sucker antidepressants... am I really healed? Yeah right. Which is why I'll stick to my counselling as well.

Well, what an uplifting post this has turned out to be.

Better insert some humourous little image. What? You're thinking it's rather bitter and sarcastic? Ah well, I'm trying.

For us, there's shopping we do in the small city where we live, and then there's shopping you save for when you go into the bigger city nearby. There's not really a whole lot of selection where we live, although it grates me to not support local business.... especially small business. Whatever. I can't let it eat me up, as that seems to not be the best choice for me right now.

So we took the drive yesterday and got some of the shopping tasks taken care of that were building on our list. Brad and I have one day off together per week, and often we spend it doing errands. Boring, I know. But I kind of take comfort and even enjoy our little jaunts about town and beyond. Our daugher does too. They're more often than not punctuated by treats like lunch out, or Timmy stops.

I overestimated things yesterday though. Not far into it, the energy I had on reserve ran completely out, and I had to stay in the car for the rest of the errands. Luckily Brad was very understanding and just took right over. Kind of make a game of it with our daughter. I love his way with her. I hadn't even the energy to talk, and was way too close to tears for comfort. Efforts to talk myself out of it failed miserably.

I'm trying not to see this as failure of me as a person, but as my body and mind just letting me know the limits of what I'm capable of during this particular depression.

How I'm going to return to work tomorrow and get through a day is beyond me. Somehow I did it last week. Not without some funny looks, not without some extreme physical exhaustion, not without retreats to the restroom to try and squeeze tears back in. I just really hope I don't have a melt down and really embarrass myself.

Maybe I need to take a week or so off until I get this under control. I don't know. In a way it kind of helps to be forced to get up, shower, dress, and fake my way through a day. It helps in one way, but it hurts in another; as in I think it's depleting my reserves.

I'll carry on for now. 6 more days and my doctor will be back.

Tired

I feel very lonely. I thought Brad was understanding of what I'm going through, and he's been acting very supportive lately, and yet..... tonight. After me working all day and him having the day off, I came home to a nice dinner and bottle of wine. Beautiful. My kids are away, our little one sleeping... time to chat over a nice glass of wine after dinner in the living room. We start talking about depression for awhile, I'm feeling like he really gets it. Talk somehow eventually leads round to my kids. I get the feeling I'm being attacked for not following through on discipline/not being firm enough. He gets hot under the color, I start tearing... he goes off to the bedroom to watch hockey. The warm, fuzzy feelings quickly evaporate. I'm left feeling abandoned, misunderstood, rejected. I'm thinking if he knew what kind of pain I'm really dealing with... he might have saved the 'kids' conversation for another time. Instead of giving me yet one more reason to doubt myself... to hate myself. And one more reason to feel that no, he really doesn't understand. Another brick in the wall I guess. I'm getting so very tired of crying. I'm getting tired of facing people at work and making up excuses as to why I seem like a totally different/unwell person. "Smile!" someone demanded of me today. I'm getting tired of the failure.

The Things You Can't Hear

I have a Word document that has become a home for quotes I've come across on depression or bipolar that strike a cord with me. The family of quotes residing there get new members on an almost daily basis. I was sitting here reading through it as I often do when I'm down (it somehow brings me comfort). and came across a few that I think I'll post here and there. Unfortunately not all of them come with a source. Oops. If I'm using anyone out there's words without giving you your due credit, I apologize. And do let me know.

I have mixed feelings on quoting. My cynical side loves the way Oscar Wilde sees it:

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."

But I think I'm more won over by the words of Sir Walter Raleigh....

'Expression need never be bound by the law of copyright while it follows thought, for thought, as some great thinker has observed, is free. The words were once Shakespeare's; if only you can feel them as he did, they are yours now no less than his. The best quotations, the best translations, the best thefts, are all equally new and original works'

And thus ends my quoting quotes about quoting.

I think basically it boils down to the fact that my brain really sucks wind when it comes to putting thoughts/feelings into words. Other's do it so beautifully, with apparently very little effort. Sometimes I need their help in expressing myelf. 'If only you can feel them as he did'. Yes.

Anyway, these are the words I came across today in my file, from somewhere by somebody that I thought captured the feeling of depression as I'm experiencing it.

"In remembering what I am like when severely depressed.......still maintaining the ability to do the essentials but not much else. Can wash and dress, but not socialise or really speak to anybody. Existing in a state of perpetual paranoia and self hatred, thinking, “I wouldn’t mind not being alive” as opposed to, “I want to die right now”. Checking out the ceilings for places to throw cords, feeling comforted by the medicine cabinet’s contents. Believing with quite calm conviction that everybody hates me. Still able to laugh and make jokes with very little feeling. Can still move but stop for long periods of time. Absolutely exhausted and sleeping a lot. Don’t care much, about anything. Crying often."

Yeah, it's like that. Except for the part about checking out ceilings. I do often envision the various bottles in the medicine chest, however, and they do, oddly, bring me comfort. I'm not at a point of taking those thoughts seriously, but the fact that they actually enter my mind disturbs me.

And, related to nothing other than the fact that I seem to be babbling about quotes: Winnie the Pooh. I'd like to bury my face in his furry little body right now, and thank him for these wise and comforting words....

'Don’t underestimate the power of doing nothing, of just going along and listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering'

'The End'. (Not too bad of a quote either)

'Something'. Which, randomly speaking, is also one of my favorite Beatles songs.

I seem to have slowly slipped into a pit. I'm depressed. And very tired of this whole scene. Not ready to check out, or anything sensational like that. Not to worry. But in enough pain and general dysfunction to make daily living a pain in the ass, and something to be feared on a daily basis. When I don't have tears streaming down my face, I'm cynical and snappy. Not at my best you might say. The last of the Effexor is out of my system I've safely arrived at Now What. Do I trudge through this trying to climb a few rungs via Cognitive Behavioural Therapy... or maybe when I eventually get in to see my Shrink, (who's off on a 6 week medical leave and doesn't have coverage for his practice yet) ... maybe try and see if there's some other drug of choice out there that can help this ignorant brain of mine.

My Gp is even hard to get in to see. Not back till Nov. 10th. I went in to see his locum the other day, to see if I could get referred to some other shrink before the New Year, but he basically told me I'm better off sticking with my own, as I wouldn't get in any sooner. Oh, and I basically brought this on myself by going off and on my 'pills'. He seemed pretty stoked when I told him I was unwilling to restart the Effexor. He sat there reading me the statistics, and basically acting like a condescending pompous fool who doesn't know FUCK all what it's like to be on this end. I sat through the appointment glaring at him through tears, and left with a cheery 'screw you'. Quack.

We'll see what the next bit brings. It feels like I'm sliding a little further each day, but I know from experience that the skies can clear at random. This feels like it's been building a long while though, and there's a faint warning bell ringing somewhere in my head. It seems to be gently hinting that this is going to take some heavy duty 'something' to get through.

My job to figure out what the something is I guess. And somehow maintain some degree of functioning in the meantime. Not sure I'm up to that challenge.

On that cheery note, cheerio, and here's to brighter days.