Feeling lost. Disconnected. Not sad, just foggy. I’m off balanced in two ways–chemically and behaviorally. I may need a change of medication (this happens to me every once in a while) but I’ve got to find a psychiatrist first. I have 3 recommendations from my counselor, I just need to call. I think I’m afraid of rejection or having to wait months to get in, and I hate the trial-and-error process of finding the right combo of meds. Those are all excuses though. I don’t know why I’m resistant. I don’t want to 100% admit that I can’t handle it, and I have this gnawing feeling that I’m just suppressing my true self with drugs. This is a depression lie. I am my well self not my depressed self, but that feeling loves to taunt me every day when I take my medicine. Frankly, it’s awful. Part of me hates my medication because I need it, but I also know that it is saving my life. But do I really want to be saved? I think I spend too much time thinking existentially.
The answer is yes; I do want to be saved. I just have little doubts sometimes. I hate these little doubts. They’re like demons (literal or figurative, take your pick) on my back taunting me. Have you read The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis? It’s like that kind of attack. My weakness is being preyed upon. All the “I love myself”s don’t seem like enough sometimes.
That’s why I have to remain strong and fight, because every moment I am not fighting the depression is winning. Depression has endurance; it will keep coming even when I’m too tired to run away. In fact, it picks up it’s pace every time I stop fighting.
And depression isn’t just tears and sadness. I sound pretty messed up today, but I haven’t shed a single tear. I feel too empty. The weather is beginning to change here. The mornings are cold, damp, and overcast. It has been burning off by the afternoon, but the mornings often set the tone for my day. I call it the snow globe effect. Everything closes in with gray and white. I feel trapped and isolated, unable to see the world stretch out before me, unable to feel connected to the hundreds of thousands of people around me.
I am supposed to do something everyday for my physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual selves. I tend to seriously neglect my body when I’m depressed. Some episodes I have trouble eating, and other episodes I binge eat. I rarely exercise because I don’t like to feel my body; it’s too much stimulation. But I have to be better about these important things. Emotionally I have days where I feel happy and fulfilled; other days I feel empty or sad. I have been writing everyday despite how I feel, so I am feeding pleasure to my emotional self. Mentally, I am working on therapy, doing my counseling homework, and practicing some of my skills. Spiritually, I have been trying to pray more and read more of my Bible for encouragement. But, overall, I am spending too much time on emotional pleasure and not enough time on physical care and physical work. I’m doing some housework everyday, but, of course, it never seems like enough. I feel worthless sometimes. Unable to contribute meaningfully.
I’m losing my balance, and balance is terribly important for a chronic depressive. The more I try to do the harder it is to keep doing it. I feel so tired.
What is my advice today? Please keep going no matter what your brain is telling you. No matter how exhausted you are–keep going. That’s my plan. I may feel low all day, but that doesn’t mean I will feel low tomorrow. And if I am low again tomorrow I will tell myself the same thing–keep going. And I’m calling a psychiatrist today. No more of this. I must get better. For my daughter’s sake, if nothing else. I’m sorry to be so doleful and boring, but I promised a record of struggle and perseverance. Today I struggle. But today I also persevere. And it’s just today I have to get through. I won’t be defeated by today because, as Scarlett O’Hara says, “tomorrow is another day.”