Two posts close together. Weird.
On Monday (my last post), I didn't really feel like writing. But I did. At least a little bit. Today I feel like writing . . . but I don't know how much.
I had therapy this morning and I don't really know what to say anymore there. I feel like I'm beating a dead horse. I'm bipolar, I have depression, this is what I feel like, these are the things I'm doing to combat it, blah, blah, blah. Over and over again. I feel as though I'm boring Mike - which is a stupid way to feel - but I can't help it. In the 8-9 years I've been seeing Mike we've gone over all of my trauma ad nauseum. There isn't anything new to discuss. No reason I should be feeling the way I do except that I'm bipolar. And in a depressive episode. Which, honestly, is frustrating. Because yeah - I feel like I'm boring and whiney and undeserving. I feel like I shouldn't be in therapy, like I should be able to figure this out on my own by now.
But I can't.
And as much as I let on that there is hope . . . I feel kind of lost and hopeless. Because this keeps going on. I keep having episodes. And I will keep having episodes for as long as I live. And that's a very daunting future. Even though I had a year of "normalcy" it's like I can't remember what it was like. The depression is so consuming, even though it's not nearly as bad as it was in the past. I'm still struggling. Every. Single. Day. I'm struggling. Quietly. Undetectable to most people, I'm struggling.
See, my depression isn't the obvious sobbing, suicidal crisis. I'm not having breakdowns every day. This episode is insidious and quiet and unrelenting. No, I'm not sobbing over everything. In fact, I can't cry. It doesn't matter what happens, I can't cry. There's nothing there. This episode has left me an empty husk. An unfeeling thing with such limited emotions it's as if I feel nothing. I'm dead inside. Hollow. There's nothing left. I'm just going about the motions of life, doing what needs to be done, doing the bare minimum because I have no drive, no motivation, no life inside of me. This is a horrible way to feel, to feel nothing. And I'm lost as to what to do.
Mike thinks my medications are to blame. Maybe they are. They're keeping the mania at bay - and probably the worst of my depression - but I'm left numb. I'm left unfeeling. And, I guess, I should clarify: I can feel anger. Anger, resentment, annoyance, irritability. I can feel those emotions. But joy? Happiness? Contentment? Sorrow, even? No. Those emotions are out of my grasp.
I describe it as feeling "blah" or "meh". I'm just existing. I don't get excited for anything. I'm getting a new tattoo next Tuesday and I'm all, "yep. Whatever." Like I don't even care. Which, I guess, I really don't. Being so empty it's hard to care. About anything. All I want to do is sleep. Sleep and not wake up until I feel better. So I nap. A lot. Because then I don't have to deal with not feeling.
I'm doing everything I know to do to beat this. Exercising, eating healthy, painting, therapy, my meds, supplements, praying, singing along to music, putting on a happy face . . . you name it, I'm probably doing it. I don't know what else to do. What the fuck am I supposed to do??? I'm so tired of this, tired of fighting a war I can't win.
I guess I'll call my psychiatrist. Talk to him about adjusting my meds. I don't know what else to do.
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