10/30/18

Look at that. It's the day before Halloween. My favorite holiday. Normally I would be excited - getting my costume ready, putting up the last minute decorations for the trick-or-treaters . . . But this year I don't care. Why?

Depression.

I've been depressed again for the past month and it keeps getting worse. It keeps getting deeper and darker and more all encompassing. I feel like Hell warmed over. Honestly, probably not even that good.

I'm really struggling right now. I keep telling myself that I'm not as depressed as I think I am, as I feel I am. Really, I'm not that depressed. But then I'm driving home from work (early, because I couldn't handle being there), and I think the logical thing to do is to go home and take a boatload of pills so I can just end it all. And I'm so indifferent to this thought that it makes me realize that I am as depressed as I think I am. I mean, thinking about killing myself garnered the same emotional response as thinking about taking a crap! How fucked up is that??

Here's the thing: fighting depression is exhausting. It is straight up, fucking exhausting. And I have to fight it every day. Every. Single. Day. Cognitively I know I'll get through it. I always have in the past. I make it through. It's just that I never know how long a particular bout of depression will last. Will it be 3 weeks or 3 months? Who knows. And that's the hard part - even though I know I'll get through it, it doesn't feel like I will. It feels like it will last forever, no end in sight. And that just adds to the exhaustion. And then when it finally does pass, I know, in the back of my head, that it will be back, it's just a matter of time.

That's a problem for me. Knowing that I'll be battling my depression for the rest of my life. It gives me such a bleak outlook. And it makes me tired. So tired. I don't know how much longer I can keep up the fight. It would be so much easier to give in . . . give up . . .

I think about this all the time. Because I am so tired. I've told people before that one of the things that keeps me going is knowing that I can still end it at any point. Which is very morbid, I know, but it's the truth.

Luckily I have my hubby and my son who stand behind me and keep me going. If not for them . . . well . . .  I'm sure you get the idea. I'm very thankful for them.

Now if I can just make it through this current bout of depression . . .

10/25/17

I'm sitting on my couch wondering what I should do with my day. I haven't done anything all morning except drink coffee and scroll through social media. I should workout, I should, but I just can't seem to do it. I don't have the drive, the motivation, the energy. In my current state of mind I just don't care.

I'm near tears right now. So close to completely breaking down and crying. I'll be sitting here, empty and dead inside, but seemingly okay, and then BAM! Out of nowhere I'm hit with this wave of horrible feelings and thoughts. It's literally like this wave that violently washes over me, knocking me down, rendering me helpless and leaving me gasping for air. I suddenly feel worthless and hopeless, depressed and full of despair. I see no light, no color, only darkness. My mind races with terrible thoughts.

  I am nothing. Nobody cares about me. I'm fat and disgusting. Noone would miss me if I'm gone. I'd be better off dead. I should really kill myself. 

Over and over and over again. I see images of me slitting my wrists or downing all of my pills. My brain tells me my hubby and son would get over my death, they'd move on and be better off and happy. I try to silence these thoughts, stop them in their tracks. I counter them at every turn but it's no use. The thoughts and feelings win. I'm left sobbing and hurting and confused. I curl up in a ball and try to sleep as sleep is my only escape. I can't always sleep though. Maybe I'm at work when the wave hits, or the grocery store.

The past few days the wave has been coming more frequently. It is unrelentless. It is persistant. It is making me question my strength and my resolve. I don't want to feel like this anymore but I don't know what else to do. I know I don't really want to kill myself but I'm worried that my brain will convince me otherwise. I need help.

Limbo

I'm stuck in this shitty kind of limbo. Not the fun kind of limbo where you're trying to get under a stick that's being lowered. . . No, a shitty, what-the-fuck-am-I-feeling kind of limbo.

Have I mentioned my meds were changed? Well, they were. My Prestiq was doubled 2 weeks ago. And some of my depressive symptoms have lessened a little bit. Fuck yeah!! Right? Right? Well, I don't know. I've been irritable. Okay, whatever. Increased anxiety. So? Yesterday I worked and I was hypomanic. Loud, inappropriate, racing thoughts, anxiety, distractibility, anger . . . while at work (remember I'm a nurse). It was not fun. Well, parts were fun because I was hypomanic. But mostly it was exhausting.

Today I don't know what I am. Anxious, racing thoughts . . . check. Feeling like I'm going to break down sobbing? Check. Self destructive behaviors? Check. Distractibility? Irritability? Check. Hallucinations? You bet! I've already cut. I want to cut more. But, more than that, I want to take pills. Like, my whole bottle of Benadryl (I have a 500 count bottle). Not because I'm suicidal - oh no - but because I want to see what will happen. I know what taking 15 does, lets take 50. How deep can I cut? What if I stabbed myself?

I mean seriously what the fuck??? I don't like how I feel and I don't like how I'm thinking. Fuck this shit.