So here's the thing
Wrote this earlier today when I was feeling shitty, intending to post it when I got home but I went to the gym after work and actually felt pretty good. But now that it's time to go to bed my brain is doing me dirty and I know this has to be posted. No more avoiding dealing with shit, yo.
***
I've been pretty out of touch lately. I've been around, I've been going through the motions of being engaged, I've been putting things on my mental "to do" list for a while. But I haven't really been "here".
I had a realization today that terrified me because I know what's wrong. My depression is creeping in again at the edges, if it's not already here.
I've felt the overwhelming need to cry at the drop of a hat for about a month (off and on, but more than usual). I've been on the verge of panic attacks for the past couple of weeks and have had to take anti-anxiety meds again, for the first time since Christmas. I'm absolutely useless at home, despite recognizing all the things that need to be done because they're bothering me.
But the depression is bigger than the bothers at this point.
I'm not writing this because I need help or internet hugs, but instead because it's not exactly something you info-drop on twitter or Snapchat or instagram or whatever "millennial pink"-tinged media you frequent. I'm doing this because I need to get the thoughts out and expose them. Maybe it's the anti-anxiety pill kicking in but just by putting these things into words, finally seeing them as formed ideas instead of dark, whirling vortexes of emotion in the dark parts of my brain, I feel better.
Now that I've put my finger on this and can properly compartmentalize where these seemingly-sudden mood swings are coming from I can at least fall back and re-route where my thoughts are going. It might work and help re-engage my brain and feelings, it might not. And, in that case, I'll be making an appointment with my doctor for a med check or a new prescription.
It's scary, though. Feeling like this is terrifying for me, above everything. It's a myth that depression makes you "sad". Sure, you can feel sadness when it hits but it's rarely the end goal of your depression. Like J. K. Rowling said, “It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling - that really hollowed-out feeling."
When I went on my first dose of the first anti-depressant I ever took I went from a sobbing mess any time I wasn't "on" in front of family/friends/customers/co-workers to blank. Nothing. I didn't cry, but I didn't laugh. I didn't feel sad, but I also didn't feel anything else. It was terrifying because I honestly didn't know which one was worse: crying all the time and feeling the most extreme, panicked things my mind and body could throw at me... or absolutely nothing. I was a Cyberman with autonomy.
On the one hand, I could go out on public and not worry about freaking out, or crying while I drove, or breaking down in front of coworkers and customers! Yay! But on the other hand that "Yay!" has more enthusiasm in it than I had at that time.
A couple more med adjustments were in my future before I got to a place that made me realize I'd been depressed for longer than I'd been breaking down crying. And now that I'm stepping into the crying place again things are getting scary for me.
That's what depression is for me: fear.
I am scared my meds have stopped working effectively. I'm concerned that I'll start having panic attacks again on a frequent basis. I'm worried I'll fuck up the (albeit shitty) sleeping schedule I've wrangled myself into. I'm dreading the time I'm by myself that I usually covet so much.
When left to my own devices with depression in the mix there are shows I can't watch and songs I can't listen to without triggering a panic attack or crying jag. And usually they're nothing overly sad or emotional to begin with! They're just shows and songs but depending on the subject matter, or the tone of the tune I'll suddenly collapse into sobs because it hit me just right.
My birthday is in a couple of weeks. I LOVE my birthday. I often say it's my favourite "holiday". But I've had thoughts of doing nothing and staying home instead. That's RIDICULOUS. So I've got to get my shit together.
I've been ignoring or putting off SO MANY THINGS lately. The podcast D and I have been so excited for only has two episodes posted, but we've recorded at least five more. I keep saying I'm going to "get on " uploading the others but I don't.
The lawn needs to be watered and I keep saying that to mom but neither of us bother. I don't know why I say it and leave it for her to do. I should just DO it.
I've been meaning to update LJ or officially switch to DW or at LEAST crosspost my official list of MMOM fics I wrote in May. I've delayed for days longer than I should with scooping Gracie's litter box. With taking the recycling. With replying to emails. I've been saying I was going to meal prep or at least have an idea in mind for how to approach the week, food-wise, for a couple months. Now that it's supposed to be 37 (!!!) by the end of this week I have an out TO A POINT, but there's no reason why I can't slice fruit or put together some snack packs or whatever doesn't require heat to make.
I HAVE been going to the gym and that's one good thing that's happened in the past month. I've been going at least twice a week, sometimes three times. I'm TRYING to get a certain number of steps each day, which isn't the full 10k yet, but I'm working on it.
So there's a lot of things I have to work on that I think I can attribute to my depression being a complete asshole. It's not a scapegoat, though, and these are things I HAVE to do because they're part of the person I want to be without hindrance.
Now that I'm nearing the end of this info-dump I'm feeling better, partially because I've written this out and partially because of the pill. That's good--for now.
TL;DR: FUCK DEPRESSION AND FUCK ANXIETY.
***
I've been pretty out of touch lately. I've been around, I've been going through the motions of being engaged, I've been putting things on my mental "to do" list for a while. But I haven't really been "here".
I had a realization today that terrified me because I know what's wrong. My depression is creeping in again at the edges, if it's not already here.
I've felt the overwhelming need to cry at the drop of a hat for about a month (off and on, but more than usual). I've been on the verge of panic attacks for the past couple of weeks and have had to take anti-anxiety meds again, for the first time since Christmas. I'm absolutely useless at home, despite recognizing all the things that need to be done because they're bothering me.
But the depression is bigger than the bothers at this point.
I'm not writing this because I need help or internet hugs, but instead because it's not exactly something you info-drop on twitter or Snapchat or instagram or whatever "millennial pink"-tinged media you frequent. I'm doing this because I need to get the thoughts out and expose them. Maybe it's the anti-anxiety pill kicking in but just by putting these things into words, finally seeing them as formed ideas instead of dark, whirling vortexes of emotion in the dark parts of my brain, I feel better.
Now that I've put my finger on this and can properly compartmentalize where these seemingly-sudden mood swings are coming from I can at least fall back and re-route where my thoughts are going. It might work and help re-engage my brain and feelings, it might not. And, in that case, I'll be making an appointment with my doctor for a med check or a new prescription.
It's scary, though. Feeling like this is terrifying for me, above everything. It's a myth that depression makes you "sad". Sure, you can feel sadness when it hits but it's rarely the end goal of your depression. Like J. K. Rowling said, “It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling - that really hollowed-out feeling."
When I went on my first dose of the first anti-depressant I ever took I went from a sobbing mess any time I wasn't "on" in front of family/friends/customers/co-workers to blank. Nothing. I didn't cry, but I didn't laugh. I didn't feel sad, but I also didn't feel anything else. It was terrifying because I honestly didn't know which one was worse: crying all the time and feeling the most extreme, panicked things my mind and body could throw at me... or absolutely nothing. I was a Cyberman with autonomy.
On the one hand, I could go out on public and not worry about freaking out, or crying while I drove, or breaking down in front of coworkers and customers! Yay! But on the other hand that "Yay!" has more enthusiasm in it than I had at that time.
A couple more med adjustments were in my future before I got to a place that made me realize I'd been depressed for longer than I'd been breaking down crying. And now that I'm stepping into the crying place again things are getting scary for me.
That's what depression is for me: fear.
I am scared my meds have stopped working effectively. I'm concerned that I'll start having panic attacks again on a frequent basis. I'm worried I'll fuck up the (albeit shitty) sleeping schedule I've wrangled myself into. I'm dreading the time I'm by myself that I usually covet so much.
When left to my own devices with depression in the mix there are shows I can't watch and songs I can't listen to without triggering a panic attack or crying jag. And usually they're nothing overly sad or emotional to begin with! They're just shows and songs but depending on the subject matter, or the tone of the tune I'll suddenly collapse into sobs because it hit me just right.
My birthday is in a couple of weeks. I LOVE my birthday. I often say it's my favourite "holiday". But I've had thoughts of doing nothing and staying home instead. That's RIDICULOUS. So I've got to get my shit together.
I've been ignoring or putting off SO MANY THINGS lately. The podcast D and I have been so excited for only has two episodes posted, but we've recorded at least five more. I keep saying I'm going to "get on " uploading the others but I don't.
The lawn needs to be watered and I keep saying that to mom but neither of us bother. I don't know why I say it and leave it for her to do. I should just DO it.
I've been meaning to update LJ or officially switch to DW or at LEAST crosspost my official list of MMOM fics I wrote in May. I've delayed for days longer than I should with scooping Gracie's litter box. With taking the recycling. With replying to emails. I've been saying I was going to meal prep or at least have an idea in mind for how to approach the week, food-wise, for a couple months. Now that it's supposed to be 37 (!!!) by the end of this week I have an out TO A POINT, but there's no reason why I can't slice fruit or put together some snack packs or whatever doesn't require heat to make.
I HAVE been going to the gym and that's one good thing that's happened in the past month. I've been going at least twice a week, sometimes three times. I'm TRYING to get a certain number of steps each day, which isn't the full 10k yet, but I'm working on it.
So there's a lot of things I have to work on that I think I can attribute to my depression being a complete asshole. It's not a scapegoat, though, and these are things I HAVE to do because they're part of the person I want to be without hindrance.
Now that I'm nearing the end of this info-dump I'm feeling better, partially because I've written this out and partially because of the pill. That's good--for now.
TL;DR: FUCK DEPRESSION AND FUCK ANXIETY.