Mini-Post Mondays: Sad

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I’ve been sad lately. I don’t know why. I suppose it’s depression, but it doesn’t feel like my usual depression. I think it’s because of my change in meds. I sigh a lot and just want to sleep all the time. Which I have been doing, so I don’t really remember much of when I’m awake. Luke gets me out of the house sometimes, so that’s nice, but it’s been so damn cold lately. So cold. The weather matches my mood, I guess. But I don’t think the weather is the cause. I’m behind on posts and almost behind on homework. Almost, not quite. I still have time to pull it together. I’m trying to get off suboxone but it’s not working. I know it will just add to the sadness. Nate is bummed I haven’t been as talkative because I’ve been sad. I’m afraid of falling like I did before, I thought this was over with. I don’t have much else to say. Everything feels weird.

Overcoming the Clouds is Different for Everyone

I feel the need to put two things out into the world right now:

1. There are different types of depression.

2. It’s not always that easy.

There have been a lot of posts lately about clouds. Most of us use clouds to symbolize depression, or the onset of depression, or a depressed period, or, you get the point. With winter coming / here, many of us with depression, bipolar, seasonal affective disorder, etc. have been struggling.

And in response to these clouds posts, there have been a lot of posts trying to help us find the light. And I thank you for what you’re doing, and I appreciate your advice and your words and your encouragement, but it’s not always that easy, and there are different types of depression.

I feel the need to remind everyone that no two people are the same. We all handle things differently. So, while you may have a reason to be depressed, I don’t. It just hits me. There’s nothing I can do. Maybe you’re dealing with a lot right now and it’s all too much and you can’t help but retreat. On the other hand, my life is going rather smoothly and suddenly I can’t get out of bed. Neither of us are worse off than the other, and we’re both going through legitimate depression. But maybe, just maybe you can do some of that self-help stuff to work you through it. I can’t.

There’s always something you can do. For me, it was seeing a doctor and getting on meds. But, it’s not always that easy. It took me months, months to work up the courage and energy just to pick up the damn phone. From there, it took me more months to get an appointment for therapy. From there, it took me more months to get an appointment to see a psychiatrist, and from there, I had to wait more months for my meds to kick in. My worst clouds hit last winter, and I’m just now starting to see the light.

This wasn’t a matter of forcing myself outside — I physically could not get out of bed.

This wasn’t a matter of looking for the good in my life — I had plenty and knew it.

This was simply a case of an imbalance in my brain. Only therapy and meds could help me, which they are, now. But in a sense you’re right — I did have to force myself to do something. It’s just not as easy as doing anything.

Some people can’t see the good in their lives, either because it’s already there and not helping, or it’s not there at all, or they just can’t see it. Some people can’t force themselves out of bed. Some people can’t afford a fancy new sunlamp. Some people aren’t all people.

Some people can focus on the good, and turn things around. Some people can get their endorphins going with exercise. Some people can afford the best gadgets. Some people aren’t all people.

So, to those experiencing the clouds, I feel for you. I can’t begin to say I know what you’re going through because in reality, I don’t. My depression, or bipolar, or whatever, is not the same as yours. But I am struggling right beside you, and I am here to help you through those dark days. And I encourage you to do whatever helps you, even if it’s letting the clouds take over for a while.

And to those who want to help us see the light, I thank you. I do. But I also remind you that our depression is not yours, and sometimes it’s not that easy. And I encourage you to keep reaching out, with that reminder.

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She Says

My dog’s been circling the same spot for ten minutes trying to get it just right to lie down.

I can hear the rain pitter-pattering on the windows and my computer singing its own melody of errrs and creeeepps and blips and gggghhhs.

My cigarette smoke billows up to my nose, giving me that all-too-familiar uncomfortable burn that accompanies that all-too-familiar comforting smell.

I can feel the warmth of the keyboard under my fingers and my glasses hanging low on my nose and my hair gently caressing my face, just shy from poking me in the eye or going up my nose.

It’s cold in here, and my legs are starting to cramp so I stretch them out.

I don’t know what else to write so I’ll just write this.

This is an exercise my therapist wants me to do when I’m feeling anxious. Bring yourself into the moment, she says. Breathe, she says. Relax, she says.

I don’t think it’s working.

I taste my pumpkin spice latte with a hint of leftover whipped cream and then that familiar taste of ash.

There is a giant rip in Jack’s blanket, which is sitting to the right of me. I want to pick at it but I don’t.

I push my glasses up on my nose and can feel my eyelashes pressing against them. My ring slides down my finger but gets caught by my knuckle and I play with it. The burn hole in my pants scratches at my arm, which is resting on it since I’m sitting cross-legged again.

I smell my dog’s gross breath, which brings me comfort.

Bring yourself into the moment, she says. Breathe, she says. Relax, she says.

Maybe it’s working a little bit. But what about when it’s over?

I pull into myself like a child who’s frightened. I hunch my shoulders and cling my arms together and lean over my computer. My belly hurts.

As I take another drag, I rest my thumb on my chin.

The air smells crisp, whatever that means. Crisp and damp.

Tick, tick, tick, says the rain. The dog snores.

I run my tongue along my teeth.

Bring yourself into the moment, she says. Breathe, she says. Relax, she says.

Now I’m just sleepy.

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What are some exercises you do to control your anxiety?

Depression, or Something

There are clouds everywhere. Encircling my body. But not the soft, fluffy kind that bring comfort. The oozy kind that drip despair.

I just want to curl up with these clouds and let them take over, but Something inside tells me not to. I want to punch that damn Something in the face.

Shit. Is this really happening?

The Something throws some pills at me and I take them, must take them, to maybe make the clouds go away. Do I really want the clouds to go away? Their dampness provides some level of comfort — they know that no one will expect anything from me if they stay.

I try to wrap myself up in them, to accept what is happened, but the Something makes me fight back. The last bit of hope that maybe I won’t fall too hard this time. The Something is stronger this time than the last.

Why is it so hard to give in?

There are children playing and birds chirping and all that other stereotypical shit you’d expect on a nice, happy day. Outside. Inside there are storms brewing and monsters stirring and whatever stereotypical shit you’d expect on a rainy, dark day. There are two me’s.

The clouds tell me to squeeze the life out of the stereotypical happiness; the Something tells me to soak it up before the clouds win. I can’t decide.

Shit. This really is happening.

Maybe tomorrow I will wake up and the clouds will be gone and the Something will have no need to be here anymore. Maybe I will wake and the Something will have vanished and the clouds will be wrapping me in an ever-dimming cocoon. Sleep, they’ll snarl. Live, the Something will whisper.

Can’t I do both? Can’t I live in my cocoon? I know I can’t. I know it will be horrible and the clouds are not my friends and the Something is.

But I just want to give in.

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Mini-Post Mondays: Blah, Nate, Spam

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Blah

I haven’t felt very well lately. I’m coming down with a serious case of the blahs, which I really hope don’t turn into depression. I’m thinking about taking yet another break from continuous blogging and/or reading because honestly, I just don’t feel like it.

Now that I’ve identified one of my mania triggers, I need to work harder on identifying my depression triggers. Is it bad that I’m even thinking of giving in to the holiday mania just to avoid the depression?

Anyway, if I’m MIA for a bit, this is why.

Nate

Nate doesn’t know I’m on Suboxone. Scratch that, he didn’t know, until today. I guess I just never told him. I remember in the beginning not wanting to tell him because I knew he’d overreact, but I really thought I mentioned it between then and now. So when I mentioned it today, I didn’t think he’d freak out like he did.

But he did, and I hate fighting with him because there’s literally nothing I can do. I don’t know if he’s going to do something dumb and I can’t prevent it, and now that I’m so blah I’m not the best with my words so I don’t even think a letter will help. I’ll try, though.

But really the point is that I’m sick of people getting freaked out when they find out I’m on Suboxone, and I’m really not keen on fighting with Nate. The end.

Spam

Last week I had a spam comment that simply said “You are nothing like us.” This week I have one that reads:

Dream: there is a purse left next to me in a restaurant, i start rummaging through it looking for cash and realize it my a. I don actually take her cash, but i know in the dream i had every intention of cleaning.

I don’t know what it means, but I am really interested. Is “my a.” really “my aunt“? Does the person have “every intention of cleaning her out?” or just cleaning? I’ve been thinking about this comment all week. What do you think it means?

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Don’t forget to link up your own Mini-Post Mondays!