So, I am sitting at work and my mind is racing. My last 2 student appointments have not show. It is, after all July 3rd and my guess is most people are already starting vacations versus wanting to come in to register for Fall Classes.
I was hoping for a busy day at work to ease my mind. It's not here. I popped a Klonopin before I even started the work day because I was already overly-anxious. It's not helping. I am here now to try and type it out, to get it out into cyber-space, in the hopes that it will help calm and relax me.
I am pretty familiar with my "levels" of depression. Level 1 is just feeling crummy, but able to get up and do stuff with a smile. Level 2, drop that smile and grumble and complain that everything is too difficult and refuse to do even the simplest of chores. Level 3, start withdrawing, stop talking to J, talk with a harsher tone to the kids, eat everything in site. Level 4, stay in bed for as long as possible, stop eating, start making not-so-good plans in my head. Level 5, full on meltdown, refusing to speak even to Dr. C, thoughts totally consumed with suicide and self-injury.
Today, I am at Level 4. Not good. Not good at all.
I have been taking my morning meds, although I HAD to stop the Latuda because the side-effects were overwhelming. I have an appointment with Dr. H in a week, and hope that he can find an alternative. I don't think the Wellbutrin alone is working.
I have had major issues bot yesterday and today with eating. I just can't do it. I feel sick to my stomach and the thought of putting food in there makes me want to gag. And this is from a chronic over-eater. Not good. Not good at all.
I have two more days before I have an appointment with Dr. C. I am trying to avoid e-mailing her, sometimes it just seems like the e-mails are a pathetic waste of time. I am sure they come across whiny and juvenile, and besides, I don't have the energy for it.
T-minus 3 hours and counting until I can get back into bed, put ArmyWives on Netflix, and just forget about the day. Right now, it can't come soon enough.
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Monday, July 1, 2013
The Fight
Depression lies. Depression lies, Depression lies.
Dr. C tells me this all the time. That depression lies. It tells me things that are not true, but its voice is so strong that I believe it to be true. Today is a "depression lies" day. I am battling that demon in my head that is whispering negative thoughts. It wants me to be sad, it wants me to fail, it wants to dominate. I have often compared it to a Lion. In fact, I have done some creative writing with Dr. C where I have given "the Lion" a personality and tried to express my thoughts and feelings through that outlet. I thought that I would share one of those pieces for a few reasons...1. I am really trying to keep blogging daily and I don't have a lot else to say and 2. It pretty much sums up how I am feeling right now.
The Fight
The book lay open on the floor. He lazed on his stomach, reading the lines and smirking with each quote. This was too much fun for him. He thought that he hadn't had this much fun since he was a cub on Christmas morning. Eagerly, he pawed at each page and enjoyed the poetry that flowed like a river. He looked over at where she was. Happiness filled his chest. She was just where he wanted, and he took pride in knowing that he was accomplishing his goal.
"Death must be so beautiful," he read to her. "To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and to listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
She jerked on the bed, struggling against the prose. He had shackled her hands and feet tightly; she had limited movement. She was trying to fight against the sadness that he was pouring into her soul. Her attempts to block the words were futile, and she felt her spirit shriveling with each stanza.
"I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life,” she spat back at him. She didn't need a book to recite the quotes. They were imprinted in her being, and she searched the quickly to find the ammunition that was much needed. He was king of his craft, however, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on.
He snapped his head up. Anger boiled in his blood. How dare she try to combat his words! He quickly turned the pages is search of more poison. "I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.”
Each word pierced her soul like a dagger. The tears flowed down her cheeks. She kept telling herself to fight, that she could not give in. She must continue to fight. The handcuffs dug into her flesh, but it was not the outside pain that she was worried about. Those scars could heal. She needed to protect what was left inside.
"I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.” She breathed the words heavily, feeling like she was being choked with each syllable.
He took a moment to look at her. So sad, he thought. She didn't have a chance and yet there she lay trying to fight against him. At least he had picked someone with spunk, he mused. If he had selected prey that would have just rolled over and died, well, that would have been no fun. He turned his attention back to the book, and searched for the next quote.
"I have taken a pill to kill the thin papery feeling,” he roared.
Her back arched, the words burning. Her defenses were weakening, she knew that she couldn't take much more. One more, she thought, I only have energy for one more. She would have prayed that it worked, except she didn't believe in the power of prayer any longer. It had been too long since any of her prayers had been answered that she found the act pointless. She lifted her head and looked the Lion right in his eyes.
"I think I made you up inside my head.” She collapsed back on the bed. That was all she had. She couldn't speak; she could fight no more.
He leaped from his spot and pounced on top of her. Straddling her frail being, he looked down at what was left. Just a shell, a wisp of where a woman used to be.
"All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.” The words flowed from his tongue. Pride swelled in his chest. He took a final swipe at her body with his paw to make sure she was done. She made no movement. He retreated to his corner, curled into a ball, and rested his head on the ground. He had won.
Dr. C tells me this all the time. That depression lies. It tells me things that are not true, but its voice is so strong that I believe it to be true. Today is a "depression lies" day. I am battling that demon in my head that is whispering negative thoughts. It wants me to be sad, it wants me to fail, it wants to dominate. I have often compared it to a Lion. In fact, I have done some creative writing with Dr. C where I have given "the Lion" a personality and tried to express my thoughts and feelings through that outlet. I thought that I would share one of those pieces for a few reasons...1. I am really trying to keep blogging daily and I don't have a lot else to say and 2. It pretty much sums up how I am feeling right now.
The Fight
The book lay open on the floor. He lazed on his stomach, reading the lines and smirking with each quote. This was too much fun for him. He thought that he hadn't had this much fun since he was a cub on Christmas morning. Eagerly, he pawed at each page and enjoyed the poetry that flowed like a river. He looked over at where she was. Happiness filled his chest. She was just where he wanted, and he took pride in knowing that he was accomplishing his goal.
"Death must be so beautiful," he read to her. "To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and to listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
She jerked on the bed, struggling against the prose. He had shackled her hands and feet tightly; she had limited movement. She was trying to fight against the sadness that he was pouring into her soul. Her attempts to block the words were futile, and she felt her spirit shriveling with each stanza.
"I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life,” she spat back at him. She didn't need a book to recite the quotes. They were imprinted in her being, and she searched the quickly to find the ammunition that was much needed. He was king of his craft, however, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on.
He snapped his head up. Anger boiled in his blood. How dare she try to combat his words! He quickly turned the pages is search of more poison. "I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.”
Each word pierced her soul like a dagger. The tears flowed down her cheeks. She kept telling herself to fight, that she could not give in. She must continue to fight. The handcuffs dug into her flesh, but it was not the outside pain that she was worried about. Those scars could heal. She needed to protect what was left inside.
"I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.” She breathed the words heavily, feeling like she was being choked with each syllable.
He took a moment to look at her. So sad, he thought. She didn't have a chance and yet there she lay trying to fight against him. At least he had picked someone with spunk, he mused. If he had selected prey that would have just rolled over and died, well, that would have been no fun. He turned his attention back to the book, and searched for the next quote.
"I have taken a pill to kill the thin papery feeling,” he roared.
Her back arched, the words burning. Her defenses were weakening, she knew that she couldn't take much more. One more, she thought, I only have energy for one more. She would have prayed that it worked, except she didn't believe in the power of prayer any longer. It had been too long since any of her prayers had been answered that she found the act pointless. She lifted her head and looked the Lion right in his eyes.
"I think I made you up inside my head.” She collapsed back on the bed. That was all she had. She couldn't speak; she could fight no more.
He leaped from his spot and pounced on top of her. Straddling her frail being, he looked down at what was left. Just a shell, a wisp of where a woman used to be.
"All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.” The words flowed from his tongue. Pride swelled in his chest. He took a final swipe at her body with his paw to make sure she was done. She made no movement. He retreated to his corner, curled into a ball, and rested his head on the ground. He had won.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Just breathe
This is not my first blog. I think, actually, that this is the 6th blog that I have started. I have started a weight loss blog, a blog about my family, a blog between me and my therapist...and have found them to be great tools for "getting things out." But this blog has the intention of being a little different. This blog intends to be a bit my honest, a bit more open, and probably a bit more scarey. I am starting this blog with the intention of begin very open and honest, while still anonymous, about my depression and the crazy, dark, and twisted road that it has taken me down.
I was first diagnosed with depression when I was young, maybe 4th grade? That was when I first started to see a therapist. It has had some severe ups and downs since then (more to come in later posts), coming to a peak within the past two years. I have been hospitalized 6 times in 18 months, been on and off various depression and anxiety medications, and even completed 11 rounds of ECT treatment, all in the hopes of a brighter tomorrow. I have found that writing is one of my best outlets, and invite you to pull up a seat, get comfortable, and enjoy the show!
I was first diagnosed with depression when I was young, maybe 4th grade? That was when I first started to see a therapist. It has had some severe ups and downs since then (more to come in later posts), coming to a peak within the past two years. I have been hospitalized 6 times in 18 months, been on and off various depression and anxiety medications, and even completed 11 rounds of ECT treatment, all in the hopes of a brighter tomorrow. I have found that writing is one of my best outlets, and invite you to pull up a seat, get comfortable, and enjoy the show!
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