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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Mini-Post Mondays: Blah, Nate, Spam

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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 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.


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!

I Can’t Relate

[NOTE: This was written before my I Can’t Relate Because I’m Not Real post. I was in a bad, obsessive place and have not read over this. But I figured I should put it out there just because.]


I have yet to discuss this with my therapist, but I can’t relate. To any of you. To anyone.

On most days my depression isn’t caused by anything — it just is. On others, at least from what I believe, it’s caused by Jack and/or my dad.

But on days like today, it’s triggered by humanity. Americans, mainly. The people I know or interact with or read things about or from.

The internet, because if it weren’t for the internet I wouldn’t have a link to the outside world. So sometimes it’s good, in that it keeps me present. But often it’s bad, because it makes me hate all of you.

Although, I think I would feel the same way if these interactions happened in the real world. I just wouldn’t have anywhere to hide, so maybe it’s better this way.

But I seriously cannot relate.

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Mini-Post Mondays: Rophaldo, The M-Word, Thieves, Frick, Dumb, and Cute.

So it turns out Tidbits & Smidgens (Nonsense & Shenanigans’ biweekly newsletter) didn’t work out. It was just too much for me to worry about. However, now you all get a piece of the action, as I’ve incorporated it into Mini-Post Mondays!

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Rophaldo and Mike

What’s her name again? Is it Samara, too? Because I’ve been ‘meeting’ a lot of people named Samara. No, that’s someone else. Sahara? SAVANNAH. I knew it was one of those.

This is what goes through my head when trying to remember someone’s name. The above actually happened, just now in my head, while conversing with Savannah from When Nothing Goes Write. (She’s awesome, by the way. She says she’s like me only I’m better but I think it’s the other way around.) (I should stop being so mushy about other bloggers. I’m not a creep, I promise think.)

Sadly, more than half the time it doesn’t even go that well. I come up with something like Rophaldo and the person’s name is actually Mike. Just Mike. Not even Micheal.


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