Depression – it’s not all a barrel of laughs.
I woke up this morning with that thought, or something like it, running through my brain. It’s currently 6:49am and I’ve been wrestling with those thoughts for over an hour so I finally decided to get out of bed, write and get them out.
As you may have noticed, this has been a pretty crap year for me so far. Which bugs me because it’s supposed to be “my year” – it’s the Year of the Rabbit, and I’m a Rabbit! And Rabbits are supposed to be really lucky! But nooooooooooooooooooo….
I was depressed before this year started, but I think things have gotten worse. I’ve been in therapy and on and off of a light dose of Lexapro for a few years now (ever since I had a boss who LITERALLY drove me crazy). It all started because I was just angry all the time. I’m a pretty happy type of person generally speaking, so when I realized that I was pissed off at everybody and couldn’t control it, I thought maybe, just maybe, there was a problem. Especially when I also realized that I was taking out my anger on my friends and for no apparent reason. (Yeah, depression is fun: you don't take it out on the people who really deserve it, you save it all up for yourself and your loved ones...)
My family have a history of depression which helped my self-diagnosis, but even more importantly, helped me feel comfortable seeking help. It was something like: I need help, therefore I will get help! It was also fortunate that I had been told "if one therapist doesn’t work for you, try, try again!" I had tried a psychiatrist years before and been told that my parents had abused me because I had been born in Hong Kong and moved around a lot as a kid. Funny thing was that the person who told me this was a foreign-born national who had moved around a lot as a kid. Hmmm, projection much?
ANYWAY – I was very lucky to find a great psychiatrist who has even become my talk therapist after a disastrous attempt with someone else who decided I had PTSD… because that was her specialty. *sigh*
And I’m doing it again. I have a tendency to start talking about something and then veering off into tangents. They might be related, but they aren’t really the point with which I started. Ever noticed that? ;-)
What I started out writing about this morning was what’s going on with me now and how it’s not a whole lot of fun. I have gotten almost paralyzed socially, but I think I hide it well until something comes up that makes it impossible to hide. Like these last two weekends.u
Las weekend I almost backed out of going to (very good) friend’s birthday party because a) I might have to stay over night and b) a lot of people I don’t know would be there. I had really bad allergies and felt miserable, but I made myself get off my couch and get out there. Luckily, another friend offered me a ride so I didn’t have to drive OR stay overnight -- I had already gotten myself into “go to the party” mode on my own, but that helped a lot! I had a great time and even played horse shoes for the first time!
Last night I was planning to go to a party with friends I haven’t seen in YEARS for a semi-reunion of sorts, in honor of another friend’s birthday. I was really looking forward to seeing everyone again and hanging out with them. So, I woke up yesterday with what I thought was a bad hangover. Yes, I drank a lot on Friday night, but I stopped around 12:30am and got food and drank water. I was home by 1:30am and drank more water, took Advil, and was asleep by 2am. I woke up around 9am, made Toad-in-the-Hole (my new favorite breakfast), then sat on the couch and caught up with work and stuff. And suddenly, I felt chills and fever and just felt awful. I took some allergy drugs and then a nap and still felt crappy. I again thought it was just a bad hangover and allergies (the weather changed considerably between Friday and Saturday), so I thought getting up and out of the house might help. So, I went to a movie (“Money Ball” – quite enjoyable).
Enjoyed the movie, walked around the street fair a little, then got a coffee and came back home. And within 30 minutes was back in bed, under the covers, shivering and snuggling with my warm, fuzzy kitty. I took some cold drugs and then slept for a few more hours. Woke up and called my friends and told them that I was just feeling too lousy to go to their party after all.
And today, I feel a lot better physically, but I wonder if all of that “illness” was just anxiety? Depression?
My depression isn’t one of those where I have to convince myself each morning that I really should not kill myself. It’s much less demanding than that. Or maybe not – because it’s really more of just having to convince myself to get out of bed. No, I can do that when it’s work I have to get to, but if it’s a social thing, then it really takes an effort for me. And I’ve noticed that it has gotten REALLY hard for me to get my butt off of my couch and exercise. I’m signed up to do the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) 10k at the end of this month. I’ve been signed up since June and I will be running with my nieces and nephew in honor of my brother… but I can NOT get myself to work out and train for it!
I don’t know.
And it upsets me.
Maybe I should do as Professor Hathway suggests and “up the voltage” heehee