Wednesday 12/29/21 Again With The Coffee!

 It's morning. I'm drinking my coffee and wondering what the heck I should write about. How I'm doing - of course - that's a given. But what else? There's nothing exciting going on in my life. Rather, I'm just floating along, trying desperately to keep my head above the turbulent waters. 

The days that I work are becoming more and more difficult. I'm having a really hard time interacting and keeping up the façade that everything is okay. It's been stupidly busy and I manage to work all my shifts and not get called off (I'd like to get called off here and there). I thought about calling in sick this upcoming Friday but it's New Year's Eve and I would feel like an asshole doing that. If it was a regular Friday I would. I hate being at work and feeling so awful. I want to be alone, I don't want to interact. But then people start asking questions as to why I'm so quiet. Not everyone needs to know I'm depressed. 

I'm feeling more and more empty. More and more flat and withdrawn and down and distant. More and more like a hollow shell of who I'm supposed to be. I hate it. I don't want to be back to this but here we are. The only upside to this is that I still don't have an appetite so I'm losing weight. And I've been able to work out consistently. But I'd much rather feel like myself and not be depressed. 

Early Monday morning, like, 0400, I had a hallucination. The first hallucination I've had in years. I was wide awake in bed and rolled over as I was going to get up to use the bathroom. There was a dark figure standing next to me with its arm outstretched over me. It startled me, to say the least. It dissipated, which is when I realized that I was hallucinating. Hubby thought that maybe I was dreaming, but no, I was quite awake when it happened. And it wasn't a shadow - it was solid. So yeah. A hallucination after several years of being free from them. I haven't had one since, for which I am grateful. Hopefully I won't have any more.  

Tuesday 12/21/21 Sipping Coffee

 It's kind of early. At least for me. It's 9am and I've already had my protein shake, got on the spin bike, showered etc, and now I'm sitting here sipping my coffee. Normally I'd just be on the spin bike right now and would still need to shower etc. But I was up early because a friend is supposed to be stopping by as well as my mom this morning. So I wanted to be ready. And ready I am. I guess. 

Yesterday was a rough day for me. I worked, on the floor, and my assignment was busy. I had a patient with blood pressure issues, a patient who's baby had blood sugar issues, and a patient who was a very needy bitch (in her defense she has borderline personality disorder). And shit hit the fan with all three of them right after report. It was a very busy day for me. And my mood was trash. I was very down, flat, withdrawn. I tried to connect with my patients and coworkers but everything was fake and forced. It was a long day. My saving grace was that I got to leave early - at 5:30 instead of 7. I'll take it. I just felt pretty rotten yesterday. And then knowing I work tomorrow, am on call all day on Thursday, and then work Saturday and Sunday (yep, I work Christmas day), is enough to make me shrivel up. 

I haven't been creative since my two paintings last week. And I don't feel like being creative. I don't feel like doing anything. Now that I have "extra" time today, I don't know what to do with myself. I'll probably nap today cause I don't know what else to do. That, and I slept like crap again last night. I've slept like crap the past few nights, which I'm sure doesn't help my mood. 

I still have no appetite. I'm still primarily having protein shakes for breakfast and lunch. And then kind of forcing myself to eat dinner. I haven't had sweets in a while. Yesterday at work there were all kinds of chocolates - truffles, chocolate covered pretzels (which I love), caramels . . . so much junk. None of it looked appetizing. I didn't touch a thing. I'm averaging a 600-700 calorie deficit every day. Sometimes more. I just don't want to eat. 

Anyway, that's all I've got right now. 

Thursday 12/16/21 I Was Creative . . . Kind Of

 A second post this week. Weird. 

Yesterday I was a little creative. I was on my spin bike, listening to music, when I had an idea for a painting. So after I finished working out and showered, I actually painted something. This is a huge accomplishment since I haven't done anything creative in almost 2 months. And it felt good to paint again. Even if it was only something simple. 

Here's what I painted:

It's called "Dark Clouds". It's 5X7, watercolor and ink. It's kind of a personal piece. Dark clouds breed dark thoughts, and while my thoughts haven't been too dark, they are there, lurking. It was a quick painting and I like how it turned out. 

I also painted this yesterday:

Because depression lies. And for me - someone who's been depressed most of their life - there's a sense of familiarity and almost . . . comfort, in being depressed again. It's a sick sort of comfort, one that is all together unwell. But see, depression lies. Depression is lying to me, telling me that this is my natural state. This is untrue. My year and a half of stability are my natural state. But depression is there, whispering lies in my ear, trying to get me to give in. I truly am doing everything in my power to fight this depressive episode. But those lies are tempting at times. At times it seems easier to give in than fight. Fighting takes a lot of energy and I'm so very tired. 

But I will continue fighting. I'm strong and I'm stubborn and I will prevail. Even if it's eventually.  

Monday 12/13/21 It's Monday

 It's Monday, the start of a new week. Ain't that grand?

Yeah, whatever.

Although my mood isn't complete shit today, which is nice. To be honest, my mood hasn't been complete shit for a few days, maybe 4 or 5. I haven't broken down, my anger has been a little less intense, and I don't completely hate life and myself. Maybe that's an improvement. Fingers crossed.

I am, however, flat and empty and withdrawn. This has been my steadfast state for the past month and a half (peppered with some shitty days of sobbing and feeling dark). This anhedonia is really and truly unpleasant. It's the slow erosion of self. Because I don't feel. I'm just floating along, going through the motions of life, trying to appear normal. Trying to interact. Trying to accomplish things. And mostly failing. Although I think I've perfected my fake laugh. Not that that's a real plus. 

I worked yesterday and two people I adore were working as well. Good friends I've known for a long time. So I figured work would be better. I don't know if it helped or not. Fake laugh, fake smile (which you can't see because we wear masks, of course), and fake interactions. People are noticing that I'm more quiet. A few have mentioned it. I brush it off as being tired. I have to lie to stay afloat. I don't want people to know that I'm struggling. So I smile and laugh all the while feeling dead inside.

 I did open up to my friend Tracy. I've known her for over 20 years. Told her how I was feeling and she offered support, which is nice. I hate sharing how I'm feeling with my good friends because I don't want to be a burden. I feel like I've failed them because I'm depressed again. I didn't really get a chance to talk with Beth, my other friend who was working yesterday. It was a pretty busy day and we never had time. She knows a little bit, just not everything. 

Like my eating. Which I'm really not. I have no appetite. At all. Nothing sounds good, everything seems like too much work, and I don't feel like eating. Now don't get me wrong - I get hungry. Physically hungry. I just don't want to eat anything. I force myself to, but I'm not eating much. Not as much as I should be. I lost four pounds in three days. I haven't weighed myself again to see if I've lost more. And somehow this isn't concerning to me. To be honest, I'm almost embracing it. Normally when I get depressed I eat comfort food, junk food, chocolate. I easily gain weight. And now I'm losing. So yeah, it may not be healthy but I'm embracing this. I know Tracy was worried about it, I'm sure hubby Jeremy is worried about it. I have a feeling my therapist is worried about it . . . but I'm not. 

I had a protein shake for breakfast - a whopping 110 calories. I'll probably have one for lunch. For dinner I'm making chicken fettuccini alfredo (we'll see how much of that I eat). I plan on going to the gym this afternoon to lift weights so I'll probably force myself to eat a protein bar beforehand. And I did the spin bike for 20 minutes this morning. Maybe not so healthy. Maybe this will become a problem. I don't know. But I'm not worried about it. 

I'm going to try not to nap today. This whole week actually. I've been spending so much time napping it's ridiculous. It's my escape from not feeling. I'm going to read instead. Maybe that's not the most productive use of my time, but if it keeps me awake . . . Because I have no motivation to do anything creative. Not draw or paint or sew. Reading is about all I can do. And even then I struggle. My mind wanders, I find it hard to concentrate. But I'm going to try.

In other news, I did my first confession on Saturday morning. I made an appointment with Fr Baron, our priest, so he could walk me through the process. I was nervous going in but I had no need to be. Fr Baron is so easy to talk to and nice and genuine and it was a very positive experience. I don't know why I waited so long! So now I have that under my belt. Go me!

That's it for today. That's all I got.  

Thursday 12/9/21 Therapy

 I had therapy this morning. My first therapy appointment in like a year. Crazy. It felt good. It felt like home. And I did my best to not feel like a failure, even though I do. 

But anyway, my therapist gave me homework to do. To write a letter to my depression. This was a harder task than I thought it would be. And I'm not sure why. The first letter I wrote was angry and jumped around and didn't really sound like me. Not a me I want to be, anyways. So I wrote another one. One that was more calm and matter of fact. And I felt better after writing it (whereas I felt very much not good after the first letter). Which is weird to me. Kind of. 

My therapist wants to see me back a few times to support me through this depressive episode. We might not glean much new insight, but I can use all the support I can get. Besides, it was good to see him. He's been a big part of my life the past 9 or 10 years and I was glad to see him again. 

My appetite is suffering. I don't really feel like eating anything. Nothing sounds good. Everything seems like too much work. I pick at my food. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm hungry. I'm just not really eating. Maybe I'll lose some weight. See? Positive spin. 

That's all I have for today. Nothing exciting, just a quick little blurb.  

Tuesday 12/7/21 Shit's Getting Real

 Why is shit getting real? Well, yesterday I texted my therapist and made an appointment with him. I haven't seen him in about a year because I had been doing so well. And now . . . I'm not. Luckily he had an opening this Thursday - I was thinking I might have to wait a couple of weeks. So glad I don't have to. 

You may be thinking, "why is it such a big deal that you made an appointment with your therapist?? You saw him consistently for over 8 years!!" And yeah, you're right. Why is it such a big deal? Mainly because I feel like a failure now. Because I can't do this on my own. I need help. I was so proud of myself for doing so well, stopping therapy, going off of Lithium, going back to working full time . . . and now? Now I need help again. I need to see my therapist again. I had to increase the dose of my Wellbutrin. And it makes me feel like a failure which doesn't help the depression at all. 

I worked yesterday, on mom/baby, and it was busy. But the day dragged on and on and on. I honestly didn't think I was going to make it through the shift because I felt so low. Well, low isn't necessarily the right word. Anhedonic is. I was so flat and withdrawn and unfeeling that it physically hurt. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball and not exist. I tried interacting with coworkers. I tried really hard with my patients to engage and joke and laugh . . . but everything fell flat. Everything was fake. I often just stared off into space. My bestie was charge nurse yesterday and I could hardly even say anything to her. There was nothing to say. I was so withdrawn I couldn't come up with any conversation starters. The anhedonia is awful. To feel nothing. I couldn't even feel anger or sadness . . . it's just . . . nothing. I didn't care about anything. I don't care. It's like I'm incapable of having feelings right now. And I don't know how to describe how horrible that is. To not feel.

Today I'm feeling more of the same. Flat, empty, withdrawn. I made a list of things I wanted to get done today. Little things. Things that would be easy to check off. I got on my spin bike for 15 minutes, hoping the endorphins of working out would help. It didn't. I showered and shaved my legs. I cut and filed my nails. I started a load of laundry. I still have to go to the post office - and I will - but later. Little things to get done to try and help my mood. I even put on makeup because I was hoping I'd feel better about myself. I don't. And as I'm typing all of this out, reading through it, it should make me feel sad. Or at least feel something. But I'm too empty. There's nothing there. 

I'm considering calling in sick tomorrow. I don't want to leave my coworkers high and dry, but I don't want a repeat of yesterday. We're already short at least one person tomorrow so if I call in sick we'll be really short. Ugh. What to do. I'm sure I'll end up working because of the guilt of calling in sick. That guilt will just make everything worse. And who knows - maybe having to interact with people will help. I doubt it, but we'll see. 

I really hate bipolar disorder. I'd kick it in the junk if I could. 

Friday 12/3/21

 Well hello again. It's December. Which is pretty crazy. What's even more crazy is that we've had no snow here in Colorado Springs yet. I mean, we've had some flurries, but no real snow. Which is just weird. I don't mind not scraping off my truck every morning, but damn! We could use the moisture!

Anyway, I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and we are indeed going up on my Wellbutrin dose. From 150mg to 300mg. I'm hoping this helps as I've been doing everything else in my power to fight this stupid depression and it's just not enough. I was hoping it was the new supplement I was trying but after being off of it for a week I feel no difference. I'm going to stay off of it for now though, just in case.

Last night I was supposed to go to bible study. I did not, however, go. My mood was pretty crappy and putting on a mask for everyone didn't sound like a whole lotta fun. I messaged L, the gal who puts it on, and told her the truth as to why I wasn't going. I don't know her too well, so opening up about being bipolar and depressed was a little nerve wracking. I was met with empathy and prayers though. I still feel awful about not going, like I'm flaking out or something. Like I'm not reliable. Which, honestly, right now I'm not. 

I haven't done anything creative in a month. I have no motivation or inspiration. Mainly motivation - I can do art even when I'm not inspired. But no drawing, painting, or sewing. It's pretty sad. I've always loved spending time in my office and now I just don't want to. Which really sucks because art is such a good outlet for me. I go down there and just sit and stare off into space. I look at my unfinished projects and feel overwhelmed. I don't feel like I'm at a point where I can do anything. And it sucks. I want to create and I can't right now. 

In other news, I've decided to let my hair grow out a little. Not a lot - I don't want long hair - but a little. Right now I have kind of a shaggy pixie cut and I'm thinking a short, messy bob. It's going to take a while to grow out. It might take a year or more to get it where I want it. This is very daunting. I've grown out pixie cuts before and there's all these awkward stages in between. But I'm determined to grow it a bit and not cut it again because it's awkward and annoying. We'll see how this goes.