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 I was so flat and withdrawn and unfeeling that it physically hurt.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 I was so withdrawn I couldn't come up with any conversation starters.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 Flat, empty, withdrawn.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. 

Monday 11/29/21 It's Almost December

 It's crazy but true - it's almost December. I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving last week. Mine was . . . it was okay, I guess. We went up to hubby's aunt's house in Denver. There were lots of people and lots of good food. It's just that I was overwhelmed and depressed so . . . yeah. 

Feeling down seems to be the new norm for me. I'm hoping to change this, go back to feeling good, feeling like myself. I have a theory that I'm testing out: about a month and a half ago I started taking a new supplement called Female Factor. It's supposed to help with perimenopause and menopause symptoms. And I've been feeling down for about a month. I started wondering if maybe something in this supplement is causing it. I've had reactions to supplements before. So I've stopped taking it. Today is my third day without it. I haven't noticed anything so far. What a wonderful and simple fix it would be if the supplement were the problem! I'm giving it time, so we'll see.

I see my psychiatrist on Thursday this week. I'll have to give him the bad news of how I've been feeling. And I'm going to talk to him about going up on my Wellbutrin. Back up to 300mg. I don't want to have to, but if the supplement thing isn't the problem then I'll probably need to increase my dose, see if that helps. It's about the only thing we can do. There really isn't anything else out there for me to try. I've literally done it all. Well, I guess that's not true - I haven't tried ketamine. That's the only thing I haven't tried. And I really don't want to. 

Otherwise, I'm doing everything I can to overcome this. I've been going over my notes from the mental and emotional mastery course I did, I've been reading articles and watching videos from the Depression Project (which is a series of online "classes" designed to help you overcome depression). I'm doing a daily journal that is designed to help you think more positively. I'm doing everything in my power to beat this. To not let it get me down. Like this morning - instead of laying back down in bed (which is what I really wanted to do), I changed and got on the spin bike. I plan on going to the gym this afternoon. I'm doing everything I know how to do. Which is why feeling down right now is so frustrating. I'm fighting it tooth and nail and I'm still not feeling right. I'm at a loss. I don't know what else to do. 

In other news, we haven't put up our Christmas tree yet. I'll be honest - I don't really want to. We have to put it up downstairs as there's not enough room for it upstairs. So it's not like we'll enjoy it that much. I'd rather get a small tree (like 2-3 ft tall) and put it on the coffee table. But then, of course, it would block the TV probably. So that doesn't really work either. Maybe on the side table by the railing . . . we could move some stuff around and put it there. I just think that if we're going to put a tree up it should be in a location where we can enjoy it. 

Anyway, I'll stop rambling on for now. 

Monday 11/22/21 Loss

 So my grandpa died this past Saturday and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. That's a weird statement, isn't it? I don't know how I feel about it? But it's true. I'm kind of just numb. And, if I'm honest, I've been trying not to think about it. I've been ignoring it. Which may also be weird. I don't know. 

My grandpa was a cantankerous old fart and a bit of a jerk at times. Like, a big jerk. He was controlling over my grandma and mom, the first to point out flaws (whether they were real or imagined), and often put people down on the regular. He was, however, a generous man, loved me and his great grandson (my son), was always proud of me and pushed me to do my best. Even though he could seem cold on the exterior, he loved deeply. 

I haven't cried. I don't know if I will. Which, in my current mental and emotional state, is a bit strange. Part of me is relieved at his passing - he was very ill and had no quality of life. Part of me is sad, as I know I will miss him. And part of me is almost indifferent (maybe this is the part of me that saw how he often treated people, I don't know). Or maybe I'm indifferent because it doesn't seem real yet. Like if I call he's still going to answer the phone. 

There probably won't be a funeral - he donated his body to science. I don't know if my grandma wants to have a service of any kind. So as of now there's no real closure. He's just . . . gone. My grandma really needs to go into assisted living, but she doesn't want to. She says she loves her house and wants to die there. She's 94 and in pretty good health so she may have several years left. But she doesn't know how to do things herself - my grandpa took care of everything. Assisted living would be the safest, most practical approach. We'll see I guess. Ultimately it's her choice. 

I was supposed to be on call today, but I called work last night and had them take me off. I don't quite feel up to being around people and functioning. I was supposed to go to a birthday party Saturday night, but I didn't go for the same reason I'm no longer on call today. I work Wednesday, Friday and Saturday this week, and I'll be there, hopefully in better spirits. I just couldn't risk being there today. 

So anyway, that's my news today. Thursday is Thanksgiving which is just crazy. Time is going by so quickly. We'll be going to hubby's aunt's house in Denver to celebrate. I hope you all have a good holiday.

Wednesday 11/17/21 Yep, again

 Yeah, I'm writing again. A second day this week. All because I'm struggling. Still. It's annoying and it sucks and it's stupid. I'm over it. 

I worked yesterday on the floor (post-partum). My morning was pretty steady, my evening was crazy busy. And in between? Chill. Which was a problem. Why? Because I had time to be with my thoughts. Which are ugly. I was definitely down yesterday. And I had no one to really talk to. Surface conversations sure, but not anything meaningful. Not anything helpful. I was flat and withdrawn and stayed to myself most of the day. I tried to open up and talk, I really did, but it was so hard. It was easier to pull away. Easier to lie.  Because opening up about not feeling like myself means admitting that I'm not doing good. It makes me vulnerable. It makes me feel weak. If I were going through a loss or some great turmoil then how I feel would make sense to people, right? But just feeling depressed? For no reason? Yeah. I hate trying to explain that. So I stayed quiet. Silently suffering. 

And today. Today I feel like I need to cry. I just can't seem to let the tears flow. I'm tearing up writing this but I can't cry. It's not coming. I keep thinking I would feel relief if I could let it out, but nothing is coming. And my anger today. I'm so irritable. At everything. It's not a good feeling. I have no motivation. It took everything I had just to shower and shave my legs. But shower and shave my legs I did. But barely any makeup. Enough so that it doesn't look like I didn't try. And my hair. Well, I blow dried it but didn't use any product. At all. I couldn't be bothered. I don't care. I don't fucking care. I want to sleep the day away. Escape my mind. 

I'm not going to though. 

No, I'm going to read. I downloaded a new book on overcoming depression. I'm going to start reading it today. Maybe it'll have some new tidbits in it. Maybe it'll help reinforce what I already know. I'm hoping for both. 

I've lost my train of thought though - while writing the above small paragraph I had to go pick up my son from school as he's sick. So I'm going to end here.

Monday 11/15/21 Look, it's Monday

 Well it's Monday. A new week. A new start. A new day. 

I'm off today, having worked the last 3 days (and of course I work tomorrow). I haven't done anything today except start laundry. I plan on doing the dishes as well, but I don't know if much else will get accomplished. I've been doing a lot of sitting and staring off into space. I have no motivation. Surprise! That's the story of my life right now. No motivation. Feeling down. Accomplishing nothing. 

I'm over it.

But I don't know what to do about it. I really don't. I'm trying, I really am. And I'm failing. Everything that I did in my mental and emotional mastery program . . . it's not helping. Thinking positively . . . not helping. Trying to change habits . . . not helping. Forcing myself to do things . . . not helping. Praying . . . not helping. I'm at my wits end. 

I'm supposed to see my psychiatrist in December. Maybe I should see him sooner. Maybe I should go back up on my Wellbutrin (I'm on 150mg - I used to be on 300mg). Maybe I should see my therapist. Maybe I should do all of this. And continue doing everything else. Throw everything I can at this. I'm tenacious. I'm not giving up. And I'm not going back to being depressed. I'm not. It's not an option. 

The past 4 days I've been a lifeline for a friend who's going through a rough patch. A really rough patch. She reached out to me and I've been trying to help her. Giving her words of encouragement, pulling her back from the ledge. She asked me about my sparrows and I sketched one for her which she got tattooed on her yesterday. She had a ketamine infusion today and is starting to feel a little bit better. Her trials remind me of what I've gone through in the past. And what I could potentially go through again. It scares me. I'm so glad I can be there for her though. It helps to have someone who understands. 

Today I'm down and flat. I just want to sleep. Take a nap until hubby gets home and we go to the gym. Because yeah, I'm forcing myself to go to the gym. I have to. I'll feel worse if I don't go. I'm trying to eat healthy again and count my macros. I'm trying to make working out a habit. I'm trying. 

Anyway, here's my friend's little sparrow:

Sparrows are a symbol of hope for me. I have a few tattooed on me, too. Hopefully this little sparrow can help guide my friend out of the dark. 

Thursday 11/11/21 Ugh

 I'm really getting sick of my lack of motivation. Today is my 4th day off in a row (lucky me, right?) and I haven't accomplished anything! I made a sock rat yesterday and did laundry. Woohoo. Go me. Otherwise I've done nothing. It's frustrating. I need to suck it up and force myself to do stuff but it seems I just can't. I go downstairs to my office and sit and stare and do nothing. I have no inspiration for artwork and I can't bring myself to sew. I have a sink full of dirty dishes that sits there, mocking me. I need to dust and clean the bathrooms. But I don't. I have a drawing of a fox I need to paint. But I don't. I have the pattern pieces cut out for a soul sucker, I just need to sew it. But I don't. I can't stand this. 

I'm feeling more depressed again today. I don't want to use that word. Depressed. But it is what it is. I could say I'm feeling down, but that doesn't quite cover the apathy and the fatigue and the brain fog. I think I'm heading into another episode. I don't want to jump the gun saying this. I don't want to catastrophize or overthink this. But I can't deny that overall I'm feeling more melancholy. My thoughts are straying more and more towards the dark. I'm not finding the joy in little things. I'm not feeling happy or content. I'm feeling lost. I feel like I'm starting to struggle to keep my head above water. For a while - a long while - I was on the pier, my toes just brushing the water. But I've fallen in and I'm struggling to stay afloat. I'm not just gently treading water - oh no. And while I may not be violently thrashing about, quickly losing my air, I am struggling. I'm working hard. I'm looking for a life vest. I need something to hold on to. 

Work, I know, is a big contributor to how I'm feeling right now. Because I'm burnt out and overwhelmed. Because if we're not crazy busy we're floating to other units. And because the higher ups don't seem to care. Nobody does. I got a text last night asking for nurses to come to work today. So we're either really busy or there were several sick calls - or both. I work the next 3 days so I declined. Working four 12 hour shifts in a row is not good for my mental health. And I felt so freaking guilty for not going in today. The guilt eats away at me. But I know I would be worse off if I had gone in. It's a catch 22. Work and be miserable, don't work and be miserable. I have to opt for what will make me the least miserable. And today it was not working. 

And there's something else bothering me. Something that's so remote and so, honestly, stupid that I don't even want to write about it. But I'm going to. Because I need to. Here goes. We're planning a trip to Japan in a couple of years. My son desperately wants to go. He adores Japanese culture and is hooked on anime and manga. So hubby and I decided we would take him there hopefully for his 16th birthday. And, quite honestly, I'm terrified of this trip. I'm terrified of everything about it. The ridiculously long flight, the jet lag, the culture shock, the language barrier, the food . . . everything. It seems so daunting and scary and hard. I keep reminding myself that I can do hard things . . . but this seems like it's too much for me to handle. It's the trip of a lifetime and I'd almost rather not go. Because not going would be easier. Because not going is less scary. I hate this. I try my best to not even think about the trip, but the seed is there, in the back of my mind, festering. I'm sure this is contributing to my overwhelm. As stupid as it seems. 

I also feel like I'm in a major rut with life in general. I don't really do anything. We used to have friends over for games and dinners all the time. We'd go out with friends and do things. And now . . . we don't. The friends we used to hang with abandoned us when I was at my worst. The friends I have now, my two good friends, well, we don't really do anything. Get coffee every once in awhile, but that's it. We see each other at work and text each other . . . but that's all we do. And it kinda sucks. Hubby has some friends from church, but not ones we do anything with. It just feels like I should be doing more. And I'm not. 

And on top of all this - the icing on the cake - is that recently I haven't been enjoying my art or sewing. It feels stagnant. It feels not good enough. It feels forced. Imposter syndrome maybe. They say all artists have it to some extent. Well, count me in. Which is probably one of the reasons I have no motivation to create. I don't feel that my stuff is good enough. So why bother? 

Oh, and while I'm at this long drawn out dump of everything bothering me, I might as well talk about my weight. Overall I've lost 22 pounds. Something to be proud of, right? Well, I'm not. Because I fell off the wagon. I've all but given up. I have no motivation to workout. I'm finding it difficult to count and follow my macros. And I hate myself for this. I've dusted myself off. I'm trying again. But my overall apathy makes it hard to get anything done. I need to lose more weight. For my health. For my sanity. I weigh 218 pounds and I want to at least get down to 180. That's a LOT more weight to lose. And it seems daunting and impossible to do. And I beat myself up every chance I get. If I have a treat or a snack. If I don't workout. If I eat something unhealthy. You think it would motivate me. But no, it stagnates me. I feel worse, so I eat worse. I feel worse, so I don't work out because I don't think I deserve it. 

This post sucks. I need to change my mindset for the better. I need to flood myself with positivity. I need to eat healthy and workout. I need to take time off from work. I need to do something. I'll get there. Eventually. I always do. One foot in front of the other. Right? Right.