6/27/18

This is going to be a bunch of rambling, I apologize for that.

I was supposed to work yesterday, post partum. Monday night when I went to bed I was praying to be put on delayed start as I wasn't sure I'd be able to work. Tuesday morning came and my alarm went off. I hit the snooze but laid awake dreading getting up. I was already feeling bad. But my phone chimed with a text message from the night charge - I was being put on delayed start until 10am. I nearly cried. I went back to bed until 7:30, got up and showered, went downstairs to get break fast and coffee.

At 9:15 I called in to see if I would be needed or redelayed. I got news I didn't want to hear. I was going into work at 11. My heart sank. I wasn't sure I could handle it. Well, no choice now, I'm going into work. I went downstairs to finish a painting I had started Monday and actually finished it. Got ready and left for work.

I felt like crap. Depressed and anxious. I honestly wasn't sure I'd be able to keep up the facade of being okay. I got my assignment, a new c-section and a new vaginal delivery, made sure my rooms were set up, and got report. And it was fine. Everything was fine.

Except that it wasn't.

I felt like I was interacting okay but I wasn't feeling anything. There was nothing there except emptiness. There was just . . . nothing. I felt flat and emotionless. I didn't care. Not about my patients and not about my coworkers. I tried. I tried.

Here's the thing. I tried interacting, and I think I was mostly convincing, but I didn't try too hard.

Wait, what?

Yeah. I didn't try too hard. See, I've been told that I try too hard and in my quest for perfection I end up making things worse. I end up spoiling my mood. Because I'm not going to be perfect. No one is. But I expect myself to be and then when I'm not I make things worse.

So, I tried, but not too hard, and I was mostly convincing although all I felt was empty and flat and withdrawn and depressed and horrible. There were even times I went into the break room and curled up in a ball on the couch because I just couldn't handle how I was feeling. I wanted to curl up in a ball and not exist. But I settled for the couch. Luckily no one walked in on me.

I wanted to cut so bad but I didn't. I'm both proud of myself for that but also upset with myself. Part of me feels I should have just cut and part of me knows that's not an effective coping mechanism. So I'm torn.

 I have therapy today for which I'm thankful because I really fucking need it. I feel like an hour isn't going to be enough time.

Anyway, I really don't know what to do anymore. I can't keep going on like this. I'm not that strong. This damn cloud won't leave me. And I don't. Know what. To do.

6/25/18

I said baby don't worry,
Cause it's all the same,
When we end the game . . .

The grey cloud has enveloped me today. And I'm struggling. It took me an hour to get out of bed this morning. I went downstairs and had breakfast and coffee and then I went back upstairs and got back in bed. For another hour. Just laying there. Then I got up and showered. I actually showered. I told myself I should be proud. I mean seriously. I didn't even want to get up to go pee.

But then it was back to bed, looking through Pinterest. Until my son came up to check on me and inform me that it was lunch time.

Yeah, whatever. Make it yourself.

That's what I thought. But I managed to get up and get lunch (which for me was a bowl of cereal because I have no appetite).

Now I'm just waiting for hubby to get home so we can go to the gym. Which he's probably going to have to force me to go because I don't want to do anything except lay in bed.

I don't want to go to the gym, I don't want to make dinner, I just want to curl in a ball and not exist. Can't I do that? At least until these bad feelings pass? I've had to fight back tears several times. I'm so tired of this. I broke down last night going to bed. Laying in bed in the dark crying. What fun. I'm really just so tired.

This needs to end.

I don't feel as strong as I was in the past. I'm trying to be. I'm trying not to let it show, I'm trying to be strong, but I don't feel it. I feel worn down. I feel like I can't keep up the facade.

I guess we'll find out.

6/22/18

I'm stuck. I'm walking around with this grey cloud above me. It's not just above me though. Sometimes this grey cloud envelopes me. Wraps around me and smothers me. 

When the cloud is above me I can function. I may be dead inside, but I can function. I can put on my fake smile, my fake laugh, and make believe that everything is alright. Why make believe? Because I truly feel dead inside. I feel empty, numb, flat, a husk of the person I should be. I'm anhedonic, if you want to get technical about it. Things that I used to enjoy mean nothing to me now (like drawing, painting, sewing, reading, hiking, playing with horses . . .). I'm just going through the motions. Every once in awhile I'll genuinely feel something . . . but those moments are few and far between. 

When the cloud envelopes me I have to fight to function. It doesn't come easy. I struggle. I break down. I cry. I have no motivation to do anything. Getting out of bed is a chore. Showering is a gigantic feat. It takes everything I have to put on my mask. God forbid I have to work on these days. I'm truly depressed. That grey cloud? It turns black. I have dark thoughts. Thoughts of suicide. I know that I don't really want to die but my fucked up brain tells me otherwise. And it's convincing. I spend my time laying in bed, staring off into space, staring at the wall or my hands or sleeping to escape. I can't concentrate to do anything. I pray for God to take me, to end the pain. 

Then the cloud lifts.

I'm given a reprieve from the worst of it. 

Or am I?

Because what I'm left with is the vacant nothingness and meaninglessness that makes up my life right now. No joy. No happiness. No escape from negative feelings despite my best efforts to remain positive. 

I've been dealing with this for at least 2 months pretty consistently. I have had about 3 manic days in the past 2 months (thank God for those days) but they don't last more than a day or part of a day. I seem to cycle every 3 months and May would have been month 3 (my last major depression was in February and resulted in a hospitalization). 

So is this what I'm dealing with? My normal cycling? And it's just lasting a long fucking time? And if so, does that mean I should ride it out? Just wait and hope it ends soon? Or should I seek a med change? The only thing is, with a med change, I know Dr. M doesn't want to go that route. He's already told me as much. He told me so after my depression in February. More ECT. I'm trying to lessen ECT and he's pushing for more. And I think it helps keep me stable overall. I do. But I pay the price for it with my memory and my continuing lack of creativity. 

So I'm stuck with this damn grey cloud. Either above me or around me it doesn't matter - both suck. 

6/18/18

Do you know how difficult it is to do cardio when you can't stop crying? I found out this morning. On my spin bike. I could only do 10 minutes because I was sobbing and I couldn't stop. The ugly cry but silent because my son was just upstairs and I didn't want him to see me, I didn't want him to know.

I meant to get up early this morning. I even had my alarm set. But I didn't. No, I laid in bed for an hour contemplating everything and nothing. Everything just seems so pointless. So I laid in bed. After that hour I finally got up, mainly because I had to use the bathroom. But I figured, well, I'm up, I might as well have breakfast and coffee.

So I did.

And I perused Instagram and Facebook. And I realized I wasn't feeling all that good. I realized today might be tough. I realized that despite my best efforts I wasn't going to make it to the gym this afternoon. I realized that if I was going to get my workout in I'd have to do it at home.

I psyched myself up, went downstairs, and got on the spin bike. The first 5 minutes were actually okay. See? You can do this! You got this!

Except . . . except the tears started falling. I wiped them away and pushed on. I'm working out dammit, we're not doing this.

My brain is an asshole though. It didn't listen. Instead it brought on the darkness. It bombarded me with an endless stream of negative thoughts. It caught me off guard and I was powerless against it.

So I cried. I sobbed. I fogged up my fucking glasses. I made my way to the bathroom to blow my nose and I tried countering the negative thoughts with good ones. Positive ones. Happy ones. Clancy, my brain, doesn't give up easily though. I sat down on the floor and stared at my hands for 20 minutes trying to gain control.

Finally . . . slowly . . . I was able to gain control. But the darkness was still there. That heavy, depressive feeling was still enveloping me.

And it has been all day.

Today is a tough one. 

6/14/18

I had therapy today, and I of course managed to cry, even though I was trying not to. I was telling Mike about how I've been feeling and about what Dr. M told me on Monday.

How I've been feeling: If I'm not feeling down and depressed, hopeless and pointless, I'm feeling like an empty, emotionless husk. I'm flat. I'm just going through the motions. I'm existing - not living. It's a horrible way to feel. It's like life is passing me by. I'm just observing, I'm not participating. I hate it.

And Dr. M told me that this is what stability looks like for me. I'm not having many big swings either up or down and that this is probably as good as it gets for me. How awful is that?? Yes, I'm mostly stable, but it's left me feeling completely flat lined and emotionless. That's no way to be. It's not how I want to feel.

But I don't know what to do. And Mike? He doesn't know what to do either. I told my hubby about this today and he was stumped as well. Why? Because I'm doing everything right. I'm doing everything I should be doing. And I still struggle. It's a bunch of bullshit.

Bullshit.

I'll keep doing the only thing I know how to do - keep plugging along. It's the only thing I can do. Keep trying to find happiness or joy or contentment or something wherever I can. Because if I can't find little snippets of that . . . well . . . I'm really fucked. So I'll keep plugging along and trying. 

6/12/18

I'm not sure how to start this post. I'm not even entirely sure what I want to say. So yeah, well, here goes . . .

I saw Dr. M yesterday in office for my med review. We do this about every 3 months. I go in, we discuss how I'm doing, review my meds, he renews my prescriptions if needed, and that's about it. Sometimes we talk about coffee or horses or work or all of the above (yesterday was coffee and work). But I had something else in mind I wanted to discuss. A couple of things, actually. Number one: my lithium. I've been having some swelling in my lower legs which my primary doc thinks is because of my lithium.Not that I'm toxic on it - my levels are normal - but swelling can be a side effect of lithium. And I saw my dermatologist yesterday morning for a skin scan and about my acne. She thinks my acne is because of my lithium. There's two strikes. Third strike? Lithium causes weight gain and weight retention and over the past 2 years I've gained 70 pounds. Seventy fucking pounds. I also have the increased thirst and urination as lithium side effects but those aren't as big. Anyway, I was inquiring as to possibly switching me from lithium because of all of this. You know, try a different mood stabilizer. Dr. M's response? "We have you stable on lithium. Why would I want to go and change that?" Which yes, that makes sense, I get it. But that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed.

I next asked him about getting a prescription for an "upper" like Nuvigil or Provigil for days I feel really crappy and down. And he said no. He thinks they'll just make me anxious. *hangs head in defeat*

Did you read my last blog post? I told Dr. M about how I've been feeling. About how when I'm not in a mood episode I feel empty and hollow. Like a shell of a person. Like I'm stuck in this mild depression where I have to fake that everything is okay. I'm putting on a mask. And he said he thinks that this is probably as good as it gets. We have my major mood episodes pretty much under control and that where I'm at right now . . . well . . . that's as good as it gets for me. That this is what stability looks like for me. Do you understand how horrible that is to hear? I'm still struggling and this is as good as it gets. I don't know what to do anymore. It makes me feel like, why try then? I can't get any better so why try? It reminds me of what a previous psychiatrist told me: "you'll always be depressed and suicidal so you better learn how to deal with it". Was she actually right? I stopped seeing her because of that comment and now it appears there was some truth to it. How fucking horrible. So what am I supposed to do with this? I already struggle with finding purpose in life and now my hope has basically been ripped out from under me.

Lost. That's where I'm at right now. And I don't like it. 

6/1/18

It's Friday, June 1st. A new day, a new month. How exciting. (Are you picking up on the sarcasm? I sure hope so . . .)

I've been having some weird thoughts and feelings the past few days. Thoughts and feelings that I'm not quite sure how to explain. But I'm going to try because I need to get this off my chest. I need to get it out of my head. 

I've been relatively stable for the past year. Except for being almost hospitalized March 2017, and actually being hospitalized this past February, I've been pretty stable. I've had a few dips here and there. Maybe they lasted one day, maybe they lasted 4 or 5 days, but they were short lived and not as intense. I've only had a few days where I've had symptoms of hypomania. So yeah, pretty stable.

But there's something I've discovered with stability. I still feel hollow. I still feel empty. I still feel lost. I still feel flat and withdrawn and generally down. It's like I'm stuck in a mild form of depression constantly. One that no matter what I do I can't break out of. My emotions all feel fake. I'm putting on a show. I smile and laugh while inside I'm secretly dying.

I guess I shouldn't say all my emotions feel fake. I feel anger. Irritability. Pain. Fear. Anxiety. Negative emotions? I've got those covered. It's the positive ones I can't seem to get. And no, it's not for lack of trying. I try. I fucking try. But they come out feeling fake. Like a mask.

Which is where the weird thoughts are coming into play. I almost wish I would go into a mood episode so I would actually feel something. So I wouldn't just be this husk of a person who's just going through the motions. I of course would much rather have a hypomanic episode. Preferably a euphoric one (not dysphoric - those suck). But I would take a depressive one. Because then at least I'm feeling something real, not just a false mask of my own doing.

Isn't this crazy? It's fucking crazy. I've spent the last 8 years of my life trying countless med combos, ECT, and therapy to try and get myself stable and now I want to throw it all away. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me? I have no idea . . .

Honestly, I've probably gone over this before in therapy. This very topic. Only I don't remember it (thanks, ECT). All I know is that my thoughts are a whirlwind of negativity and what ifs. Running through scenario after scenario of what could possibly happen. By the way? None of it is good. No, all of it is pretty shitty.

I don't know what to do anymore. I keep plugging along, day after day, putting on my mask, forcing myself to interact, forcing myself to appear that I'm feeling . . . Forcing myself to appear normal when my mind is truly a hurricane of confused negativity. What do I do? I'm trying so desperately not to self sabotage but I need to know . . . what do I do?