Posts Tagged ‘sadness’

Darn self-promises made on medication highs

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

So I promised myself I would try to write here more frequently again.  Of course, what seemed like a very do-able and brilliant idea at the peek of a medication-induced period of hyperactivity is looking significantly more shady at times like this where brushing my teeth seems like a lot of work (Not too much, mind you.  I am minty fresh; just reserve the right to swoon a little at the effort).

(I used a semi-colon there.  Did you notice?  Probably incorrectly.  I hate semi-colons.)

I guess it feels like there isn’t much to say today.  I can’t even detail what I had for lunch, as I seem to have skipped it in favour of being WAY too hungry all afternoon.  The boring bloggers of the world have a leg up on me.  How’s that for sad?

Today was a day of Grand Ambitions, followed by Grand Avoidance, with an aftershow of chocolate.  To be honest, I’m finding things in general a little more frustrating than they have been now that I have recent productive/well periods to compare to.  Makes me more inclined to start my day with ambitions requiring capital letters.  …whether or not I will reliably be feeling up to following through.

Sometimes it surprises me a little the bits of sadness or frustration I pick up on in what I write here.

On a related note, I’ve been spending a lot of my time lately trying very hard to look at the thoughts and emotions that I am trying very hard not to look at.

I have not yet figured out what would qualify as “success” in that statement.

Not So Strong

Wednesday, August 26th, 2009

This is not a fun post.  It has no undercurrent of humour.  But I’m posting it anyway, because this is the reality of the illness I’m going through.  Every day is a different ride.

I feel so lost right now.  I feel like my head is ready to explode with all the pressure.  I don’t know what to do with myself.  I feel like maybe I’m indulging the depression too much, and I should somehow be strong enough to get moving anyway like I used to.  But all I could seem to do today was sleep on the couch and feel awful about it.  I feel like I should be pushing myself harder…or not beating myself up so much.  Some of the books I’ve been reading suggest really letting yourself feel the depression fully.  I’m not sure I can even do that anymore.  I try, and I’m sort of crying, but not really.  I can’t quite seem to get there.  And then I feel guilty, and like I’m feeling sorry for myself.

I just don’t know what to do right now.  Every day is so different.  Yesterday I accomplished a lot, relatively speaking, and I felt okay.  Proud of myself.  Today was a whole different world.  I just want to DO something.  Anything.  Please.  I just wish that I knew what to DO about it.  I’m a very determined person at my core.  If I knew what direction I was supposed to go in, I would go there.  I’ve read everything I can get my hands on, and I have no idea tonight.  I can’t even seem to take the pressure off of myself and decide to just relax tonight and take good care of myself.  I can’t read right now.  I can’t watch TV.  I can’t clean.  I can’t take a bath.  I can’t seem to do anything at all, and it’s driving me crazy.  I’m just a little ball of guilt and loneliness and frustration.

I miss my husband.  He’s still away on work and wrote to tell me the trip has been extended until Friday, and I’ve been trying so hard to be strong and together, but it’s REALLY NOT A GOOD TIME, and I miss him terribly.  I don’t think I fully let myself feel how much until I wrote that.

My depression has been getting so much worse lately, and I feel like the whole system has abandoned me.   We’re in debt up to our eyeballs from my illness already, and I can’t afford to keep seeing my therapist.  We’re in danger of running out of credit if I do.  I’ve still been going once every 2-3 weeks anyway, but it’s adding tons to my stress because of the financial strain.  I’m on a huge number of waiting lists, but nobody will help me unless I’m ready to take my life.  I don’t want to take my life, but I’m starting to want to hurt myself and it scares the crap out of me.  I don’t want to let it get to the point where I’m ready to do something more drastic.  Can’t they help me stop it before then??

Writing this post has made me cry at least.  I’m sobbing alone in my house now.  I’ve scared away my cat.  It feels better than having it all trapped inside, I guess.  I try so hard to be strong, but I need help right now.  I can’t do this alone.  I feel like I wish that somebody would just step in and take over the reigns of my life right now.  I don’t know what they could do even if there was somebody to do that, but it feels like it would help.

I really need help.

Please, somebody help me.

I don’t know how to help myself.

I’m down with OPP (Assuming, of course, that he was singing about overly pensive ponderings. Yeah. You know me.)

Thursday, June 25th, 2009

I always seem to feel fifty times worse about things when I have to have a conversation with some official person about it.  And there are a lot more of those than I would have imagined.  I now have a case worker from work, and a disability management person from work, and a rehabilitation worker for the profession in my broader region, and a rehabilitation worker for the profession in my local area, and a union representative in charge of disabilities, and three people from different sides of the Mental Health Association, and a family doctor, and a mindfulness instructor, and a mindfulness consultant, and a psychologist, and a psychotherapist I am in theory on a wait list for, and a psychiatrist who I haven’t yet met and may get back to us in a month or two to say that they’re not actually accepting my referral.  Of my not-insignificant possy, only the psychologist really knows much about what’s going on, and even she is clueless to most of what happens involving the others.   Most of the others just ask about symptoms and send me paperwork.  With surprising frequency.

I don’t know if it’s just having to detail over and over all the ways in which I am not currently or was not previously “normal,” or having to focus for an hour on what’s still wrong and/or really difficult in my life, but it’s really draining returning these phone calls.  Tough to keep my equilibrium and feel like I’m still doing well.  Maybe on some level I feel like I need to be doing worse because if I seem to have it too together I’m worried that they’ll withdraw support.  I’m still in need of that support.  It’s the reason I’ve been able to improve.   Sometimes I feel like I’m going to sound too happy on the phone one of these days and men in uniform are going to come crashing through my door and drag me kicking and screaming back to work.  The Happy Police.

I had planned to make a very positive post today.  I even wrote part of it before my stomach decided that it was lunch time NOW (that’s an interesting side effect of having both appetite suppression and increased appetite going on at once.  Full, full, full, RAVENOUS.  It’s kind of like duck, duck, goose, except with extra snarling and somewhat more crumbs).   But, I’m at the computer at this moment, beside the phone, which recently rang with someone on the other end who needed to discuss in detail all the things that have been difficult and put me on a waiting list.  It’s like having someone call every other day to get a vivid account of what I look like in a bathing suit under florescent lighting.  Oh, just great, I assure you.  Thanks.

I’m doing well, though.  Very well, really.  I’ll give my happy yay me post when I’m feeling a little more yay.  …And a little less….me?

Okay, maybe not the world, but definitely at least my neighbourhood

Monday, June 15th, 2009

Feeling a little bit down this morning (that seems to be a pattern for me on Mondays since I’ve been off).  I guess it’s a rainbow striped bra and yellow underwear kind of day.

Maybe I’ll force myself to take a walk in the World’s Tackiest HatTM.