overcome depression and anxiety

I feel I am finally improving, but I had a big setback – evaluation at work on top of exam marking to do even though I am still marking coursework,and i really couldn’t cope last night. I didn’t argue with my husband, I took myself off to bed early and he went out. This morning, I told him that I was in a slump, and he responded in the way he often does, ‘you aren’t making sense, go to work”. Before we got to my office, he had started an argument about His Fortieth Birthday (caps deliberate) and my lack of interest in planning His Celebration(caps deliberate, again). Now, I am decidedly low maintenance, and so long as my sisters remember to call me on my birthday, I am fine, but my husband has already had a huge joint 40th birthday party with a group of friends in January. Meanwhile, our son’s 12th birthday went largely uncelebrated, and he didn’t even take our son to buy me a card for Mother’s Day. I have so much on my plate right now, and I am so turned off by what feels like his sense of entitlement that I have no desire to do anything for him (I did NOT say this to him. He was already talking so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear, and that would have made it worse. If it could be worse). He just told me he wants me to do nothing, because if he hadn’t mentioned it, he doesn’t think I would have planned anything he’s right and he feels like an afterthought, and he does this for people all the time (meaning me – he planned a surprise party for me last november, and he hasn’t let me forget it) but nobody ever does anything for him (who gets up at 5 am to get him coffee and make his breakfast, and comes home from a very demanding job every freakin evening to cook his dinner? I do!) and he feel as though he is not appreciated.

I wish I wasn’t married. I would only have my own crap to deal with right now, not his as well.

I am worried that I might lose my job in a week, and this is what my husband feels I should be focusing my energy on. I don’t get it. I really really don’t.

Back on medication again – Lexapro. And 4 days later, I’m somewhat productive. Damn it.

My name is Stacy, and I sufer from chronic depression.

Was a raging bitch this evening. Made my 10 yr old cry, and when his dad got home he told on me. So my husband gave me a firm talking to – the usual one about not being such a raging bitch to my child. Again.

Later, I cooked a delicious meal and helped son put together a project without being a bitch. Much. Progess? I think so.

Still feel like cutting someone. And cursing. While cutting someone. I swear, if I wasn’t so emotionally retarded as a teenager, I would have killed someone by now.

My period is usually the worst time, and even if I am not going through a bad patch, I usually go to pieces during that time of the month. I used to take Xanax for about three days every month, and now that I can’t afford the medication, I get sidelined once a month, as I have been since this damn thing started when I was 11. This month, I have not seen the usual signs. Cramps, sure, but no overwhelming irritability and irrational rage, and I don’t feel like I could just curl up and die right now. So, this is good.

I need to do things for me. I always use the needs or feelings of others to motivate me to complete hings, so when noone is around, I shut down, like a wind up toy that has run down. I need to do it because I(emphasis on the I) want to. I’vee been waiting to feel like doing something, but I have spent so many years denying myself, that my automatic response to that feeling is ‘no you can’t’. Well,I am going to start tlling myself yes, and see if my life starts to make sense.

This is going to be complicated, so just hang on tight as I walk you through this.

So I’m watching Miami Ink, and wondering, as I am wont to do, what kind of tattoo I would get. Then it came to me – it would have to be a mountain climber, because that is what I am, trying to achieve anything while climbing Mt Depression. So I googled images of mountain climbers, just to see what my imaginary tattoo would look like, and was reminded of Bear Gryll’s achievements. Now he is someone I admire (plus he is hot as f*, just look at his butt), but reading his story while thinking about depression just made me take a little more notice. On top of which, I had forgotten that he was a mountaineering Christian who had spent 18 months learning to walk again after a parachuting accident. Damn, man! His simple statements about his faith touched me the way flowery statements never do. When I decided to figure out my own mind, I discovered that my faith was basically a limp, tired copy of those around me. I had to dump it all out, like a handbag in need of a tidy, and discard everything that wasn’t my own, that I couldn’t accept, that was against the principles I finally discovered I had. As a direct result of this mental exercise, I have personally fallen away from the Church, but I still believe in God.

Now, let me bring it on home, this revelation I want to share. The metaphor of mountain climbing opened a door in my mind, showing me something that I have been trying to see for years. I am climbing Mt depression, but what reason do I have to keep climbing? What is it that keeps me trying when I am constantly tumbling over the edge, into the abyss? Sh, I spend more time dangling from cliffs by my safety rope than actually moving upward towads the peak – any sensible person would give up. My expedition keeps running out of money. Who is financing this expedition? What keeps me climbing? What is at the top of the bloody mountain? If I can figure these out, I have a chance, don’t I? I must believe that there is some point to this agony.

I have hope, and a project. Yay!

I did it without my doctor’s permission, because I couldn’t afford both medication and counselling. I was happy to find that the overwhelming sadness was gone, despite being unemployed (or is it because i was unemployed?) I suspect the fact that I have been able to work from home helped a lot. And the freedom from the extreme stress completely balances the uncertainty about money. I am a happier person.

The medication was not helping me to get to the root of my anxiety, and It was not helping me to get the hell out of my OWN way. I need my counsellor for this. Of course, I also need to do the exercises he has given me to do, so I can really get my money’s worth. So I renew my commitment to doing what needs to be done to beat this.

First session today. I made the appointment this morning for lunchtime because I needed somebody to talk me down off the ledge. I swear, I was this close to jumping, or committing the equivalent of career suicide by going into my mid-year evaluation and telling my supervisor – Look, J. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore, and I am giving up. Fire me.

My husband didn’t think this was a good plan, but I honestly couldn’t see any other alternative. At the height of panic, I realized how desperate I was, and sought help.

B. is very nice, an older gent, calm spirit, good listener, and after an hour with him, I felt heard. That, for me, is the best part of counselling, feeling as though someone gets me, and KNOWS HOW TO HELP ME.

Hallelujah.

but here I am again. For more than a month, I have been avoiding 43T with the same energy I would use to avoid someone who wanted me dead. Because I couldn’t face myself, I couldn’t come here everyday and look at the list anymore.

So it is happening again, my boss has threatened to fire me if I don’t deliver. I am on 2 medications, my family life is AMAZING, I actually have a sex life for the first time (TMI? I don’t even care right now) but work has only been spiralling out of control faster and faster.

What does this mean? I know my coping skills, my organizational skills and my ability to self-motivate simply don’t exist, but an instinct for self-preservation usually made me push, at least TRY to get the work done, no matter how debilitating the depressive episode I was experiencing. For the last five weeks, I haven’t been able to push. I can’t work at home, I can’t work on weekends, I just sit there watching the work pile up as though it isn’t my life, as though I’m in the audience – “Wow, her life is in the crapper! She should do something about it.”

So anyway, that was May.

I am tired. I have difficult decisions to make. My son is at the office with me for two days. The weather is rainy and cold. All these things are bringing my down. They are harshing my mellow. What do people do at times like this to stop the slide? Focus on the good things? Just jump right in and make thaose tough decisions? Okay.

I am wearing a pretty purple jacket – it’s new. I look nice today.

And lunch is here, so I can eat now.

And after lunch, I’ll decide what to tell L. I only have half the info she needs, but I can get the rest ready after I eat.

Okay. I feel a little better. Now if life will hold off for a few hours, I will continue trying to catch up.