Depression, or: The screaming toddler in my brain
I wrote this email to my boyfriend, Michael, a couple of weeks ago. I had been really not very mentally well the day before, when he had come over to see me, and despite my best efforts to contain it, I went from being irritable to crying to weird disturbed sleep and nightmares. He'd not seen me like that before and had been worried and upset by it. He had mostly been really good with me, and I wanted to explain how I felt, and why I reacted the way I did. What resulted was the following spiel, which I'm actually oddly proud of. I think it's been useful to write, because it helped me sort out my jumbled brain a bit, and I felt better by the time I finished. And it was useful to show to Michael, who I think may understand me and my brain a bit better now. And hopefully someone else might read it and feel better. I dunno. I just wanted to put this out there.
Incidentally, I realised that there were several really chemical reasons behind the mood swing....I was menstruating, hadn't been taking my pills properly, was tired and under the weather, had only the night before had to leave a night out early because I was having some sort of panic attack, which I hadn't fully got my mojo back from, I hadn't had any proper alone time in days, and just generally felt shit. It happens. But normally I don't have my boyfriend staying over and I can hide the mood, or at least nip it in the bud considerably, by getting some alone time, stat. When I can't hide it and I'm trying to hide it around people, I just end up melting down in some messy manner. Try as I might, someone else always gets hurt.
"Again, I'm sorry to make you feel shitty. I hate that aspect of depression, the fact that it hurts others as well as me, it compounds the negativity around me and that's why I tend to hide away. Somehow I always end up making someone feel shitty and it's always those closest to me. It's damage control. And shame.
But it's also really important that I communicate how I feel and I do that best in writing. Not that I manage to get the tone of voice any further out of 'whiny demanding bitch' mode than in person but at least I can get through a whole sentence uninterrupted and I can elaborate without being sidetracked too much. At least you can hear me this way and I'm not muffled by tears or your chest or my own inability to breathe because my words are catching in my throat. You cannot speak over me this way.
I think the important points from the previous email and this whole thing overall, are:
1) I don't know exactly what was up with me and it wasn't your fault I was in an itchy, scratchy, negative, weepy, extremely emotionally sensitive mood.
2) When I'm like that, there are certain things that are really difficult for me, and sex is one of them. Everything is super-magnified and sadly the negatives are massively magnified so it's important to be tender, ultra-responsive to my reactions, and ready to completely back down when I flake.
3) because my initial instinct is to hide, and not interact with people, I get far more resentful when I become subjected to things that other people do that infringes on my personal space/sphere of consciousness, or generally annoys me, than you might expect. Not doing things you know annoy/upset me at the best of times will generally prevent my outright hostility. Things like not listening to me, freaking out every time I knock something or nearly knock something or do anything with fire, making "ironic" sexist/racist jokes, talking about parking, singing the same line of a song over and over again, fussing while I'm trying to cook.........I can and will go on......I can laugh and joke about that shit when I'm okay. Or make a sarcastic quip that's funny but not hurtful. Or sigh, roll my eyes and smile indulgently. When I am spazzing out with depression, I can't cope with it. I just can't. It makes me lose my shit, big time. It makes me angry. I actually have to restrain myself from throwing things across the room, kicking inanimate objects, screaming, and basically being a toddler throwing a tantrum. Depression is the screaming toddler in my brain.
4) I find it really difficult to process information when I feel low. Have you ever tried to read in a room while there's a screaming toddler? Now imagine being the parent of that screaming toddler and you are desperately trying to quiet the squalling brat because you have a headache from the noise and stress and there are other people there but nothing is working and you're not allowed/able to just kill the damn kid or give it away or cut out its tongue or even gag it. And just at that moment, someone starts to ask you a bunch of questions that feel completely irrelevant to anything, where you're presented with a list of options that you just don't care about. How would you respond to that? At the most polite, restrained end would be "I'm sorry but I really don't think I can do this right now." So please bear that in mind when I'm low....if you ask me a question, and I respond somewhat petulantly, that I don't care, it means I'm pretty busy trying to shut your unwanted stepchild, Depression, the hell up.
5) To labour the toddler metaphor.....god, it really is like trying to pacify a small, irrational person who can't communicate very well yet. I dunno if he's teething and his gums are hurting, if he's scared because he saw a thing that isn't really that scary but his mind has failed to process in a rational manner, if his nappy needs changing, or if he's just tired, overstimulated, stressed, and anxious, if there's too many people, if he wants to be picked up and cuddled, or if he's just feeling rebellious or wants a sweetie that he can see and can't have for no good reason that he can fathom. The most you can do is observe his reactions and make an educated guess. In my experience of trying to manage toddler tantrums, bad ways to deal with them include: shouting at them, pleading with them, trying to make them feel guilty, threatening violence, actual violence. Talking to them in a baby voice. Molestation. Good ways: take them out of the crowded space if possible and into the home environment as quickly as you can, if they need time to scream alone in their room, give them a time-out until the screams and wails have subsided. Ask if they feel better now. Ask if they want a cuddle. Have a cuddle and a talk and resolve things. Try and get them to eat and drink something....not too many 'difficult' foods. Find something quiet to occupy them with or take them somewhere outside if they seem fractious and restless inside. Get them to take a nap, in a warm, quiet room. It might be a restless nap, and you might have to go into their room a couple of times to soothe them and reassure them. If they need a cuddle, pick them up. If they want to get down, put them down. They like familiar things and repetition and falling asleep on your chest while you stroke their hair and they get bad separation anxiety sometimes. Sometimes they cry for minutes over a hurt knee and then they're right as rain again, ready to play. Other days, it's just wahhhh, waaaahhhhhhhh, awaaaaahh ahhh ugh ugh ugh ugh WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH NO I DON'T WANT TO NO NO IT SMELLS, all fucking day and by the end you just want to fucking shoot yourself and the child and be another sad statistic.
So, uh....I hope you understand what I'm getting at, what the noise in my head sounds like, how the world looks through its eyes, how it processes things and how it behaves, this thing that I live with.....and yeah, it's a pretty shit deal. I'm trying to tame the toddler. It's an egregious little shit, truth be told. I would totally give it up for adoption if that we're an option, I would have had it aborted if I could have. But I'm stuck with this damn thing for my whole life.
That's the bad news out of the way. The good news is, you're doing really fucking well at it, all things considered. Letting me cry on your chest and giving me cuddles and stroking my hair and reassuring me are all excellent, and until I got all frustrated, I was really enjoying the slow, tender, intense lovemaking we had going on. Just a shame I had the damned pad in the way and then bled all over the place and I wasn't in a sexy place during the massage and WAAAAAARGH. Shit, woke the damn baby again. But yeah, I'm sorry more than anything else almost, that one of the things about this kid is, he's such a GRUMP. He's a negative little sod, truth be told and frankly, an ungrateful brat. Nothing is good enough. See, that's wrong, and that, and that, and picking out all the horrid details and ignoring the big positive thing: "hey look, mummy cooked you dinner! It's your favourite, steak pie and mash and peas, and if you eat all your peas you can have chocolate mousse for afters instead of yoghurt...." "UGH HATE peas. Mummy horrible dinner, yuck, don't want it." Er hey, that's a motherfucking steak pie there, you ungrateful little shitfuck, eat the damn pie! Anyway, you're one hot steak pie, Michael. :-) And I fucking love steak pie. You're a crumbly golden crust with the richest, meatiest, gravyest, steaming hot filling, and your mash is buttery, peppery, and mostly lump-free. you've got some damned good gravy, too. But yeah, you've got some peas, and sometimes, peas are all I see. Mostly I understand that peas are good for me and I chow them down without complaint. But sometimes their very presence makes me want to fuck shit up.
Maybe sometimes I should be sent directly to bed without dinner. Chances are, after an hour or so I will tearfully agree to behave and say yes I want dinner now. And I'll maybe have it all out of my system or maybe if pushed too far, too soon, I won't, and I will need some serious downtime where I'm left to my own devices to do something quiet where I won't start fighting with the others. And chances are, at some point I will need a cuddle.
Pie cuddle. Hmm. Oh dear, I just gave us both mixed metaphor-osis.
Anyway, sorry. That was a bit of a weird spiel. I think I'm starting to feel better. I just want you to understand, and try to take this in....and incorporate it into future dealings with the hell child in my head. You are doing brilliantly at it so far and I know it probably doesn't seem like it but last night I was in full-on flailing, kicking, screaming, unable to breathe mode. It was a really bad one. On the upper end of my spectrum. Part of a major downswing. I think it's starting to clear. Ultimately I am glad to have been able to cry on your chest. There were some moments of beauty there, where I could feel the knot in my chest start to loosen and my mood kinda lifted a bit and the fog almost cleared, just for the moment. Mostly when you were stroking my face and hair and shoulders (I love that feeling so much), and when we were kissing. For all of last night's shit, that was one excellent make out session. More of that please!
My phone is dead. It won't even turn on. But anyway, I have answered your question of whether to wait or write or ring . As for how to respond, just respond. I imagine this email will take some time to read and digest and whatnot, let alone reply to. So, I want an immediate response....and a longer response in whatever way you choose, whether email tomorrow or in person in a few days' time. I spent way too much time writing to you at work today and I need to catch up with myself tomorrow, and my aunt is visiting tomorrow evening, so I might be quiet. But I should be happier than today. I already feel better, TBH. A few hours alone to sort my head out and I am already more chipper.
Anyway, time to put the kid to bed. He's all tuckered out. And so am I. Tomorrow will be brighter. :-) Love you, and thank you for loving me. I need it. Xxxxxx"
Incidentally, I realised that there were several really chemical reasons behind the mood swing....I was menstruating, hadn't been taking my pills properly, was tired and under the weather, had only the night before had to leave a night out early because I was having some sort of panic attack, which I hadn't fully got my mojo back from, I hadn't had any proper alone time in days, and just generally felt shit. It happens. But normally I don't have my boyfriend staying over and I can hide the mood, or at least nip it in the bud considerably, by getting some alone time, stat. When I can't hide it and I'm trying to hide it around people, I just end up melting down in some messy manner. Try as I might, someone else always gets hurt.
"Again, I'm sorry to make you feel shitty. I hate that aspect of depression, the fact that it hurts others as well as me, it compounds the negativity around me and that's why I tend to hide away. Somehow I always end up making someone feel shitty and it's always those closest to me. It's damage control. And shame.
But it's also really important that I communicate how I feel and I do that best in writing. Not that I manage to get the tone of voice any further out of 'whiny demanding bitch' mode than in person but at least I can get through a whole sentence uninterrupted and I can elaborate without being sidetracked too much. At least you can hear me this way and I'm not muffled by tears or your chest or my own inability to breathe because my words are catching in my throat. You cannot speak over me this way.
I think the important points from the previous email and this whole thing overall, are:
1) I don't know exactly what was up with me and it wasn't your fault I was in an itchy, scratchy, negative, weepy, extremely emotionally sensitive mood.
2) When I'm like that, there are certain things that are really difficult for me, and sex is one of them. Everything is super-magnified and sadly the negatives are massively magnified so it's important to be tender, ultra-responsive to my reactions, and ready to completely back down when I flake.
3) because my initial instinct is to hide, and not interact with people, I get far more resentful when I become subjected to things that other people do that infringes on my personal space/sphere of consciousness, or generally annoys me, than you might expect. Not doing things you know annoy/upset me at the best of times will generally prevent my outright hostility. Things like not listening to me, freaking out every time I knock something or nearly knock something or do anything with fire, making "ironic" sexist/racist jokes, talking about parking, singing the same line of a song over and over again, fussing while I'm trying to cook.........I can and will go on......I can laugh and joke about that shit when I'm okay. Or make a sarcastic quip that's funny but not hurtful. Or sigh, roll my eyes and smile indulgently. When I am spazzing out with depression, I can't cope with it. I just can't. It makes me lose my shit, big time. It makes me angry. I actually have to restrain myself from throwing things across the room, kicking inanimate objects, screaming, and basically being a toddler throwing a tantrum. Depression is the screaming toddler in my brain.
4) I find it really difficult to process information when I feel low. Have you ever tried to read in a room while there's a screaming toddler? Now imagine being the parent of that screaming toddler and you are desperately trying to quiet the squalling brat because you have a headache from the noise and stress and there are other people there but nothing is working and you're not allowed/able to just kill the damn kid or give it away or cut out its tongue or even gag it. And just at that moment, someone starts to ask you a bunch of questions that feel completely irrelevant to anything, where you're presented with a list of options that you just don't care about. How would you respond to that? At the most polite, restrained end would be "I'm sorry but I really don't think I can do this right now." So please bear that in mind when I'm low....if you ask me a question, and I respond somewhat petulantly, that I don't care, it means I'm pretty busy trying to shut your unwanted stepchild, Depression, the hell up.
5) To labour the toddler metaphor.....god, it really is like trying to pacify a small, irrational person who can't communicate very well yet. I dunno if he's teething and his gums are hurting, if he's scared because he saw a thing that isn't really that scary but his mind has failed to process in a rational manner, if his nappy needs changing, or if he's just tired, overstimulated, stressed, and anxious, if there's too many people, if he wants to be picked up and cuddled, or if he's just feeling rebellious or wants a sweetie that he can see and can't have for no good reason that he can fathom. The most you can do is observe his reactions and make an educated guess. In my experience of trying to manage toddler tantrums, bad ways to deal with them include: shouting at them, pleading with them, trying to make them feel guilty, threatening violence, actual violence. Talking to them in a baby voice. Molestation. Good ways: take them out of the crowded space if possible and into the home environment as quickly as you can, if they need time to scream alone in their room, give them a time-out until the screams and wails have subsided. Ask if they feel better now. Ask if they want a cuddle. Have a cuddle and a talk and resolve things. Try and get them to eat and drink something....not too many 'difficult' foods. Find something quiet to occupy them with or take them somewhere outside if they seem fractious and restless inside. Get them to take a nap, in a warm, quiet room. It might be a restless nap, and you might have to go into their room a couple of times to soothe them and reassure them. If they need a cuddle, pick them up. If they want to get down, put them down. They like familiar things and repetition and falling asleep on your chest while you stroke their hair and they get bad separation anxiety sometimes. Sometimes they cry for minutes over a hurt knee and then they're right as rain again, ready to play. Other days, it's just wahhhh, waaaahhhhhhhh, awaaaaahh ahhh ugh ugh ugh ugh WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH NO I DON'T WANT TO NO NO IT SMELLS, all fucking day and by the end you just want to fucking shoot yourself and the child and be another sad statistic.
So, uh....I hope you understand what I'm getting at, what the noise in my head sounds like, how the world looks through its eyes, how it processes things and how it behaves, this thing that I live with.....and yeah, it's a pretty shit deal. I'm trying to tame the toddler. It's an egregious little shit, truth be told. I would totally give it up for adoption if that we're an option, I would have had it aborted if I could have. But I'm stuck with this damn thing for my whole life.
That's the bad news out of the way. The good news is, you're doing really fucking well at it, all things considered. Letting me cry on your chest and giving me cuddles and stroking my hair and reassuring me are all excellent, and until I got all frustrated, I was really enjoying the slow, tender, intense lovemaking we had going on. Just a shame I had the damned pad in the way and then bled all over the place and I wasn't in a sexy place during the massage and WAAAAAARGH. Shit, woke the damn baby again. But yeah, I'm sorry more than anything else almost, that one of the things about this kid is, he's such a GRUMP. He's a negative little sod, truth be told and frankly, an ungrateful brat. Nothing is good enough. See, that's wrong, and that, and that, and picking out all the horrid details and ignoring the big positive thing: "hey look, mummy cooked you dinner! It's your favourite, steak pie and mash and peas, and if you eat all your peas you can have chocolate mousse for afters instead of yoghurt...." "UGH HATE peas. Mummy horrible dinner, yuck, don't want it." Er hey, that's a motherfucking steak pie there, you ungrateful little shitfuck, eat the damn pie! Anyway, you're one hot steak pie, Michael. :-) And I fucking love steak pie. You're a crumbly golden crust with the richest, meatiest, gravyest, steaming hot filling, and your mash is buttery, peppery, and mostly lump-free. you've got some damned good gravy, too. But yeah, you've got some peas, and sometimes, peas are all I see. Mostly I understand that peas are good for me and I chow them down without complaint. But sometimes their very presence makes me want to fuck shit up.
Maybe sometimes I should be sent directly to bed without dinner. Chances are, after an hour or so I will tearfully agree to behave and say yes I want dinner now. And I'll maybe have it all out of my system or maybe if pushed too far, too soon, I won't, and I will need some serious downtime where I'm left to my own devices to do something quiet where I won't start fighting with the others. And chances are, at some point I will need a cuddle.
Pie cuddle. Hmm. Oh dear, I just gave us both mixed metaphor-osis.
Anyway, sorry. That was a bit of a weird spiel. I think I'm starting to feel better. I just want you to understand, and try to take this in....and incorporate it into future dealings with the hell child in my head. You are doing brilliantly at it so far and I know it probably doesn't seem like it but last night I was in full-on flailing, kicking, screaming, unable to breathe mode. It was a really bad one. On the upper end of my spectrum. Part of a major downswing. I think it's starting to clear. Ultimately I am glad to have been able to cry on your chest. There were some moments of beauty there, where I could feel the knot in my chest start to loosen and my mood kinda lifted a bit and the fog almost cleared, just for the moment. Mostly when you were stroking my face and hair and shoulders (I love that feeling so much), and when we were kissing. For all of last night's shit, that was one excellent make out session. More of that please!
My phone is dead. It won't even turn on. But anyway, I have answered your question of whether to wait or write or ring . As for how to respond, just respond. I imagine this email will take some time to read and digest and whatnot, let alone reply to. So, I want an immediate response....and a longer response in whatever way you choose, whether email tomorrow or in person in a few days' time. I spent way too much time writing to you at work today and I need to catch up with myself tomorrow, and my aunt is visiting tomorrow evening, so I might be quiet. But I should be happier than today. I already feel better, TBH. A few hours alone to sort my head out and I am already more chipper.
Anyway, time to put the kid to bed. He's all tuckered out. And so am I. Tomorrow will be brighter. :-) Love you, and thank you for loving me. I need it. Xxxxxx"