I’m noticing a trend over the last four years, and I don’t really like it much, and I don’t really know what to do about it.
Firstly, depression is becoming a bigger presence. Chalk it up to the weather if you like, but I don’t think that’s what it is, especially since it can be worse during the summer months when there is abundant sun. I don’t want to get out of bed most days, and if I manage that, I don’t want to get out of the house. I can overcome this, and with the exception of work, I’m almost always glad that I do, but the every day battle with myself is exhausting and I find myself giving in more.
Second, I sleep alot. I used to be able to be quite productive with 4-6 hours. These days I need about 12, but it’s because it’s such poor quality sleep. This persists during times when I’m exercising, when I’m eating well, when my depression is relatively under control. Worse, I like to sleep. Dreams are easier to deal with than being awake. The poor quality may be PTSD as the p-doc has said. That makes total sense to me. But not getting enough sleep is really eating my time because I find myself napping whenever I can to shore up whatever sleep I managed to cadge during the 6-8 hours I’m in bed.
Third, my anxiety level is almost constantly ramped up. Sometimes it’s to the breaking point, sometimes it’s just constant tension, but it’s never really gone. I have no confidence in my work, no confidence in my perception; most of the time I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore. The person I was from say 28 to 38 is just… gone. And I keep trying to lure her back, but she keeps not being there.
My therapist has pretty much discharged me. She thinks I’m fine. Either I’m really good at hiding things even when I’m not trying, or she’s not actually that good. My p-doc is great, and once this move is over and the situation is somewhat re-stabilized, I’ll re-assess and start talking to him about re-adjusting my meds; and perhaps a new therapist as well.
Finally, I’m so tired of hearing myself talk about this shit, so tired of living like this, tired of the flashes of happy feeling drowned out, tired of the incredible mood instability. I’m just… tired. Sometimes I think about whether I really want to live this life the way it is, and while the drive to be here for my kids is very strong (and very much winning at this point), it bothers me that these thoughts happen more often than they used to. I’m not planning, I’m not taking steps, but I did have a pretty vivid dream a few nights back about eating handsful of pills in front of Jeff. Crunching them so they’d work faster. It shook me. I’ve never dreamt of suicide before.
I wanted to get this down for myself more than anything. When I go in to the doc/therapist sometimes I forget, and at least now I can refer to this. Not to bum anyone out, but I may do this over the next few weeks just to narrow trends, etc.
I’m also considering a prolonged FB fast. There’s so much ugly in the world right now, so much stupid, and I can’t deal with it. I think that makes me weak, but also realistic. I know what I can’t hack right now, and the world’s drama just may be it.