Under Water

Over the last few days, I have lost more and more ground in my battle with my depression. Every time I fight my way to the surface, I seem to get pulled back down some how. I am getting to the point where I no longer want to fight. It seems there is no escape. Like there is an imaginary rope tethering me to the bottom of a deep, and angery ocean. I am left feeling frustrated, stressed, and strained. Barely, able to catch a breath. I keep looking around for something to hang onto. A hand to grab, something to just keep me a float, a kind word, a loving look. I see it all there, just beyond reach. No matter how I try to hold on, my grip slips away. It feels like I can go days without having someone utter a positive word to me. I am retreating into my own mind. I remind myself daily to love thyself, honor thyself, but it seems to only get me to the surface, not keep me a float. Warm salty tears roll down my cheeks again as I feel the ocean waves wash over me once more. I pray, I pray everyday, that I am able to reach the air again, and stay there for a little longer this time. I pray that I am able to see light, to feel loved. I pray that I can find something to hold me, shelter me. So that I can have a few moments to float there, steadily, relaxed by the gentle rocking of the water, instead if knocked around by a raging sea.

I'm Fine

Sometimes I feel as though depression is my wicked step-sister. Just as I feel like I am going to get to go to the ball, she rips apart the dress the mice and birds made for me, leaving me ragged an alone again. After over a year of having to "overcome" I had several good weeks. I was finding a new direction in my life, and taking real, and solid steps toward new goals. Then, out of nowhere, crying, and not just teary eyes, sobs, full fledged sobs complete with gasps for air in between.

Why? I'm not sure. My first mistake, was letting myself get too tired. Exhaustion, physical or mental, dangle me right on the edge of a meltdown, even if the rest of my world is all roses and sunshine. All it takes is a hard wind to blow me right over the emotional cliff, landed hard on whatever harsh reality waits below.

Second, I have, as usual, been doing the "I'm fine" game. This is a game I have mastered over the years. Sometimes I play it with friends, other times I play it with myself, but most often its both. I'm fine because I need to be strong for my daughter. I'm fine because I don't want to look like you are getting to me. I'm fine because someone I care about has a bigger problem than I do. I'm fine because I have a job to go to, a child to raise, a dog to take care of, work to get done, and a house and laundry to keep up with. I'm fine because I am telling myself I am fine, and that not being fine is just not an option. I, occasionally, convince myself that its true. I look around and think, "Huh, look at that. I feel ok." Right up until I have 5 minutes of quiet, alone with my thoughts. Suddenly, I get hit by an emotional tidal wave and crumb like wet paper.

So I let myself cry. I sobbed, and sobbed until I could pull it together enough to get out of the house. Then I got in the car, and turned up my "angry" music so load I couldn't hear myself singing along any more, and I let myself get really pissed. Pissed at myself, at the people who have hurt me, and just in general. After that, I spent some time just being me with the person who knows me better than anyone else, and that, again, made me cry. I spent a good part of the next day sleeping, recovering from the emotional exhaustion and trying to make up for lost sleep from earlier in the week. But at last, this magical thing happened. I was fine. Not just in words or fine like I'll be fine eventually, but really fine. And the glass slipper fit.

Don't Pretend My Elephant isn't Real

So I am wondering why no one seems to understand me. Am I not expressing myself well? Do most people not care? Do peopele expect me to be stronger than I am? Do I treat myself with so little self respect that it seems ok to talk down to me? Do people just not get how much anxiety and depression truly affect you? Whatever the reason, I feel like I am constantly trying to get people to understand what's going on with me. Yet they still seem to push, or disregard, or talk down to me for my "weakness" or "moodiness". When you tell someone close to you that you feel as though you are beginning to reach a limit on what you can handle before you reach self district they should take you seriously, right? Maybe I expect to much. Maybe I expect people to SEE I am falling apart and offer support instead of asking for support. It often feels to me like when I do ask for help (not from my counselor, but rather friends or family) that it is either not heard, or is more of a pat on the back and then it is forgotten. My father (who is also my boss) will say "go do some work therapy" meanwhile, I am proud of myself for even getting out of bed that day. My parents are the worst at understanding, and being supportive of my mental health problems. They don't believe in meds. They don't believe in counseling. They believe you suck it up and move on. It is hard to explain to people around you, even friends and relatives at times that you just can't. You can not just snap out of it. You can not explain why you are crying nor can you stop. No it is not "just life" (that's my mom's favorite) it is more than that for people who have issues with depression. And NO it is not acceptable to talk to me like I am incapable, or crazy. I understand the scope of things just fine. I am not weak or overly sensative. I have a real issueand I am really struggling. I will not just feel better tomorrow. And telling me those things only makes me feel worse, and if I say I am reaching my breaking point I mean it. Panick attacks, cutting, the overwhelming desire to hide away from some place so I can be left alone, I mean it! I am not looking for attention or being dramtic. I am very, very real!

No Use Crying Over Lost Sleep...or Is There?

Why it is OK to lay on your bedroom floor crying

Sleep & Moods

OK so I had planned for today's entry to be about daughters and how our images of ourselves affect them and how they see themselves. However, by about 11AM today I discovered (quite accidentally) that I seem to be an emotional wreck today, and I am not entirely sure why. I just feel this overwhelming desire to burst into tears at any moment. While I believe there is nothing wrong with the occasional good cry, crying at work for no reason is often frowned upon. Also, constant crying with no real cause often make people wonder/worry about your stability and basic ability to function. Something, I too, worry about my own ability to do. Right now I may be a touch on the hormonal side, but over all I think it is lack of sleep. No matter how much I try to convince my mind and body that it is REALLY very simple, you get tired, you close your eyes and sleep, it doesn't seem to be that simple for me. So I have been taking Ambien for about a year now. While I now have occasional episodes where I do or say things I have NOOO recollection of, I do sleep more...except when I run out. Which is what just happened, and of course I had not noticed the prescription had no refills left. So it has taken several days to get it from the doctor, to the pharmacy, to me. In the meantime, sleep is alluding me. I know people who get all slap happy when they are sleep deprived, people who get cranky. Not me. I get cranky AND depressed. Chuck will tell you the 2 things that negatively affect my mood the most is not eating and not sleeping. I become quite the crazy person. I try my best to eat when I need to (not always easy working in retail and raising a small child) and to sleep. I take naps regularly.

When I went through the darkest period of my depression and anxiety, sleep was a huge issue. The antidepressants messed up my sleep patterns and the added anxiety made it hard to settle my uneasy mind. I began having panic attacks. My father began to pick up on the fact that the days where the attacks were the worst, the days the rendered me helpless, where often after an especially bad night of sleep. It is a vicious cycle for me. High anxiety makes it hard to settle down and sleep, no sleep causes increase anxiety, less sleep, more anxiety, less sleep...That's why I did eventually turn to medication. Though that has its definite cons as well. Memory laps being one of the biggest, but also, I have a young child. Anyone with young children knows that things come up in the middle of the night, sickness, bad dreams, thunder storms. I wanted to be sure I was able to be there if she needed me, especially when I was a single mom. But by not getting enough sleep at night I was not able to be fully there for her during the day. I was moody, distracted, and in a fog often. Using the TV as a babysitter while I napped, or zoned out. So I chose to try the meds. So far I have been ok enough to respond, though details are often fuzzy in the morning. It often feels like coping with my depression and moods is a constant balancing act though. One I am not always good at.