I'm not sure how much I can get out, but I need to try.
I am feeling close to another breakdown. It has been a while since I've had one, so I guess I'm due.
Life itself is going pretty well. We are living in a dream house in the neighborhood we've wanted to be in for four years; we are financially stable for a while, our bills have been paid; I get to see my out-of-town best friend this weekend for the first time in almost two months.
But I am extremely emotional. I want to be pregnant. Now. But my body is not cooperative, and I don't even know if it's possible for me to conceive. I have been on an emotional roller coaster for months, and it has built up, and exploded last night. I am intensely depressed.
The last few days I have been sleeping a lot. I can't fight it. I get home with the kids, do my daily duties, and lay down because I am out of energy, and then I pass out. Today I fell asleep around 4:30 and didn't get up until 8:00 because I needed to go to the store. I feel awful for Montana. I haven't been very attentive, and I am cheating her--I know this, but I feel like I am useless to her while in this funk.
This weekend I'll be with my best friend, and I know I'll feel better when I get home. Hopefully then I can focus on Christmas, and just be happy. That's a tall order, but I'll work on it.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Downs
I'm sitting here shaking and crying because I've held it in for too long.
I'm in my new house, which I moved into 9 days ago, and I freakin love it.. I have been pretty happy since we moved in, and would have blogged about the extreme euphoria but we had no Internet until a couple days ago.
In that time, my uncle died, and my family celebrated what would have been my dad's 70th birthday, had he lived. There is so much stress surrounding my uncle's death, which isn't surprising, but for some reason I'm not expected to feel anything. I am expected to do my job and other people's jobs, and not screw up; I'm expected to take care of the kids on my own 80% of the time and not be tired or cranky; I'm expected to unpack everything in this house even when no one else is unpacking; and above all else, I am expected to NOT be tired. That is not allowed. I try to lay down and have a nap after picking up the kids, but lately I haven't been because we have been so busy. Out of the five weekdays last week, I had four kids come for playdates, two adults over for drinks, stayed home for our cable hookup, unpacked, and napped just one of the days. Apparently this was too much, I guess I should have filled that day too.
I am exhausted from all the stress, missing my father, putting up appearances for people, and dealing with my uncle's death and the fallout from it. I took the kids to a halloween party while my mom stayed home and rested, I have stayed home with my brother and taken care of him so she could take care of my uncle's responsibilities. I am worn down, but all I hear is how tired she is, how she does everything, and I do nothing.
Everything has built up, and it is erupting like emotional lava.
When I should be happy and celebratory, I am tired and feeling worthless.
Having dinner in honor of my father was nice, I liked spending time with his sister and niece. But it brought up past hurt. We were talking about the lack of funeral or service for my uncle, and how we really should rethink that so we could have closure, and it brought up the memory of my father's memorial, to which I was not invited. I imagine the reason no one told me was because it was 4,000 kilometers away, but my god, I should have been told about it. I explained that because I missed it, I still have no closure after twelve years, but that got no response. I just don't matter to anyone.. it was my dad, but I didn't need to be there. I find it so unfair, and there is nothing I can do about it.
I talked to someone tonight who feels the same way I do, and knows exactly what I'm going through, and it's so wonderful to have her. She summed up her feelings perfectly, and it fits me too: "I hate myself, but I love my kids more." So true. If I didn't have my daughter, I would kill myself, or at least try. But I love her too much, and would never do that to her, or take away my one joy, seeing her grow. So I am stuck here to deal with life, and sometimes, it is too much.
I'm in my new house, which I moved into 9 days ago, and I freakin love it.. I have been pretty happy since we moved in, and would have blogged about the extreme euphoria but we had no Internet until a couple days ago.
In that time, my uncle died, and my family celebrated what would have been my dad's 70th birthday, had he lived. There is so much stress surrounding my uncle's death, which isn't surprising, but for some reason I'm not expected to feel anything. I am expected to do my job and other people's jobs, and not screw up; I'm expected to take care of the kids on my own 80% of the time and not be tired or cranky; I'm expected to unpack everything in this house even when no one else is unpacking; and above all else, I am expected to NOT be tired. That is not allowed. I try to lay down and have a nap after picking up the kids, but lately I haven't been because we have been so busy. Out of the five weekdays last week, I had four kids come for playdates, two adults over for drinks, stayed home for our cable hookup, unpacked, and napped just one of the days. Apparently this was too much, I guess I should have filled that day too.
I am exhausted from all the stress, missing my father, putting up appearances for people, and dealing with my uncle's death and the fallout from it. I took the kids to a halloween party while my mom stayed home and rested, I have stayed home with my brother and taken care of him so she could take care of my uncle's responsibilities. I am worn down, but all I hear is how tired she is, how she does everything, and I do nothing.
Everything has built up, and it is erupting like emotional lava.
When I should be happy and celebratory, I am tired and feeling worthless.
Having dinner in honor of my father was nice, I liked spending time with his sister and niece. But it brought up past hurt. We were talking about the lack of funeral or service for my uncle, and how we really should rethink that so we could have closure, and it brought up the memory of my father's memorial, to which I was not invited. I imagine the reason no one told me was because it was 4,000 kilometers away, but my god, I should have been told about it. I explained that because I missed it, I still have no closure after twelve years, but that got no response. I just don't matter to anyone.. it was my dad, but I didn't need to be there. I find it so unfair, and there is nothing I can do about it.
I talked to someone tonight who feels the same way I do, and knows exactly what I'm going through, and it's so wonderful to have her. She summed up her feelings perfectly, and it fits me too: "I hate myself, but I love my kids more." So true. If I didn't have my daughter, I would kill myself, or at least try. But I love her too much, and would never do that to her, or take away my one joy, seeing her grow. So I am stuck here to deal with life, and sometimes, it is too much.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Ups
This week is a good example of the highs I experience, and I thought I should post about it before I drop.
For some unknown reason, I have been looking forward to work lately. Anyone who has known me for any length of time will find this ridiculous. I hate work. I like to stay home, and avoid jobs if at all possible. Miraculously I have managed to hold on to this one for two and a half years, which is for the most part due to my boss' flexibility and understanding of single parenting. So anyway, when I go to sleep at night, I think about work. Of course I dread the idea of mornings: alarm clocks, walking, tiredness; but I look forward to being at the office. I think it is because I have been doing a lot of organizing these past few weeks, and I am starting to think that maybe I will eventually be all caught up. Organizing my filing and other papers is a little different from the every day that I do, so this is also part of why I want to go to work, it is a bit of change.
I am glad that work isn't such a chore right now, but I know that won't last, so I am trying to take advantage as best I can--getting as much work done in my short shift as humanly possible.
With all this absolute excitement I must question why I am falling asleep at my desk. I have always been a very tired person, and fell asleep in high school, and at a previous job I had. However, in the years I have worked at this office, I have only ever been that tired a couple of times. The last week or two, I have been nodding off, fighting to keep my eyes open, and even laying my head down for a couple minutes sleep until my mother hisses "Wake up!"
I haven't changed my sleep pattern, although I have been slightly busier outside of work, but I don't think it justifies the fatigue. My only guess is that my previous breakdown took too much out of me for a simple bedtime remedy. Luckily there is only a couple days until the Thanksgiving long weekend, so I hope I can catch up.
There are a few good pieces of news lately which is helping buoy my spirits, but they all hold the ability to disappoint me and cause another plummet into depression. I am hoping against hope things work out this month, though, it would be nice to experience a bit of a miracle! Will update soon!
For some unknown reason, I have been looking forward to work lately. Anyone who has known me for any length of time will find this ridiculous. I hate work. I like to stay home, and avoid jobs if at all possible. Miraculously I have managed to hold on to this one for two and a half years, which is for the most part due to my boss' flexibility and understanding of single parenting. So anyway, when I go to sleep at night, I think about work. Of course I dread the idea of mornings: alarm clocks, walking, tiredness; but I look forward to being at the office. I think it is because I have been doing a lot of organizing these past few weeks, and I am starting to think that maybe I will eventually be all caught up. Organizing my filing and other papers is a little different from the every day that I do, so this is also part of why I want to go to work, it is a bit of change.
I am glad that work isn't such a chore right now, but I know that won't last, so I am trying to take advantage as best I can--getting as much work done in my short shift as humanly possible.
With all this absolute excitement I must question why I am falling asleep at my desk. I have always been a very tired person, and fell asleep in high school, and at a previous job I had. However, in the years I have worked at this office, I have only ever been that tired a couple of times. The last week or two, I have been nodding off, fighting to keep my eyes open, and even laying my head down for a couple minutes sleep until my mother hisses "Wake up!"
I haven't changed my sleep pattern, although I have been slightly busier outside of work, but I don't think it justifies the fatigue. My only guess is that my previous breakdown took too much out of me for a simple bedtime remedy. Luckily there is only a couple days until the Thanksgiving long weekend, so I hope I can catch up.
There are a few good pieces of news lately which is helping buoy my spirits, but they all hold the ability to disappoint me and cause another plummet into depression. I am hoping against hope things work out this month, though, it would be nice to experience a bit of a miracle! Will update soon!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Just a glimpse
Hello there, and welcome to my blog.
If you have read my "About Me" section, you will know that I am a woman in her 20s suffering from depression; I have a beautiful little girl who is my reason for breathing, a true lifesaver in her own right; I have a part time job which keeps me busy while the girly is in school, and afterward I pick her up along with my little brother, and take care of them in the afternoon. I take Mini Me to swimming and ballet, each once a week, which gives me time alone, and time with my brother, respectively. I spend time with great friends, most of them supportive, whether it be house parties, dinner and drinks, or just coffee visits.
On paper, or in blogger text, it seems I have a full life, which I do! So why is it that I have created a blog dedicated to depression? Who knows? Certainly not me. I am content with my day-to-day life, but overall, I am sinking deeper and deeper into this black hole.
Lets start at the beginning.
March 6, 2005.
I sat in my doctor's office, nervous and shaky, waiting for her to come in and save the day. I had complete faith in her ability to do so--she had delivered my baby, after all. After what seemed like hours, my doctor came in and did the routine "What are we in for today?" and I lost it. The tears wouldn't stop, and I was shaking uncontrollably. I explained how I was feeling, how I'd always felt, that for 15 years I'd felt worthless, how I'd spent many of those years contemplating suicide and settling for self mutilation, and that more recently I was stressed over leaving my toddler at home while I worked at an office that could double as a torture chamber. She asked me to fill out a questionnaire, and upon reading my answers diagnosed me as suffering from "Severe Clinical Depression," wrote me a prescription for antidepressants, and set up an appointment for me with a free counselor.
I saw the counselor once a week for almost a month, but it became too much for me. I'd quit my job and was becoming quickly agoraphobic. I was afraid to leave the house for any reason, top of the list being to go talk about unbearable feelings with a stranger. I regret not sticking with my therapy, but I wasn't ready at the time.
It took a few weeks for my medication to start working, and once my prescription ran out I foolishly believed I could go a few days before renewing it, due to the agoraphobia. Crying to myself in the bathroom after cutting my wrists taught me otherwise. The amount of guilt I felt upon seeing my three-year-old angel sleeping in my bed was almost too much to handle on top of the guilt I felt on a regular basis, and I just about lost my mind. It reminded me I couldn't resort to hurting myself in times of stress, and vowed never to do it again. I have broken the vow a few times over the years, though.
It has been five long years since those first dark months, and I have come a long way. Not only have I recovered from my reclusive lifestyle, but I have made several wonderful friends, gained the courage to start working again, and even smile occasionally. Life is not perfect, however. I still have bad days, which are starting to outnumber the good once again, which has prompted me to start thinking about looking into therapy. I'm not sure if I will go through with it, but I will at least consider it.
The reason for this blog is to shed some light on the disease that I and so many others suffer from. I have experienced ignorance, intolerance, and resentment from people who are only supposed to support me, but I have realized that it is just ignorance. People cannot support what they don't understand.
I also need a place to put all my thoughts when I am breaking down. My thoughts are often all over the place, from excited to suicidal, and I think getting them out will be a helpful way to deal with it.
I only hope that as readers, you don't judge, only learn. If you have questions, I'll be happy to answer them.
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