"Depression isn't always at 3 am....
...sometimes it's at 3 pm when you're with friends and in the middle of a laugh"
Yesterday was beautiful. Aside from going to work wearing a see through shirt. I laughed, I got a lot of great work done, I felt good.
When I got home, I noticed my grandpa and Frankie working together to put her desk together. I knew he was going to need more help but I told Jennifer that I wasn't going to be the one to do it. I was still fine.
Fast forward 10-15 minutes and they're asking me to come screw in various things to the frame, and I was happy to help but quickly realized they put it together wrong. Which made my work longer. I was mildly irritated but still willing to help because she's arthritic and he's arthritic and old.
At some point in the last 10 minutes of the build. My brain snapped and I was done. Her room was a mess (which it has been for a while so that shouldn't set me off) and for some reason, the act of me still being on the floor to put together a desk I had no intention of helping build was enough to push me towards the edge. Jenn knew I was getting close to losing control of myself.
Fast forward 10 more minutes and I finally exit their bedroom to see that this activity didn't take 20-30 minutes, I had been in there for 2 hours.
If the mess triggered me, the 2 hours I spent "off schedule" is what shoved me off the deep end.
I cried through dinner. Partially in anger that my schedule was off, partly out of frustration of being the one to have to solve issues all the time, and partly out of irritation with myself that something as simple as a kink in the schedule can trigger an episode.
I've been feeling really good for the last month or two I would say. My mood has been even, of course I have my moments but I've had a clear head, I've been "happy" and yet I always keep an eye on my mind knowing and wondering that the happiness has a finite timeline. A deadline.
I tried to watch part of Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune with Jennifer but I don't remember any of it. Finally at 8 pm I felt this wave of fatigue I couldn't ignore and just decided to surrender.
This morning I woke up still in a mental fog. I feel like I'm experiencing everything through a thick veil of mental swampy grossness. With any interaction I am on the brink of tears.
This brings on a fresh wave of shame and humiliation that I can't control my brain. I am fully aware that the shit happening in my head is inconsequential. It's (I cant even find the word right now that's how fucked my head is) just stupid.
And yet here we are.
Hopefully this doesn't last because I have things to do.