Sunday, May 11, 2014

E is for Elusive

I am actively seeking that ever-elusive non-substantial thing most people seem to either have or don't notice that they don't have - happiness. Energy. Drive. Sustainability. Motivation.

You guys know I don't normally swear on here. When people ask me why, in real life, I don't swear, I tell them that oh, I do swear. It's just that I save it for a special occasion, so you know I'm really, really mad/upset/whatever.

My fucking psychiatrist wants me to start taking fucking anti-depressants again.

It has been about six months. In my head, I was doing great. Getting up and getting to work at a decent time. Getting things done. Getting A's and B's in classes. Seeing friends. Not isolating. Not so good: have had a headache for twenty days now. In a horrible place in therapy (childhood abuse - not for the faint of heart!). Sad. Clinging to sanity with broken fingernails clutching at the cliff's edge.

Taking a step back and looking at things kind of clarified my need for some help. I don't want that help in the form of fucking anti-depressants. I don't. I made myself take one last night and wanted to kill myself. I then slept until noon, let my poor dogs out, went back to bed until 4:00. Typing this, then planning to take another nap. I have a lot to do around the house.  Just bought a new couch and need to arrange furniture. Not happening. Need to wash dishes. Not happening. Need to give the little dog a bath. Not happening. Need to sweep. Not happening. Need to do laundry. Not happening.

I have some amazing friends. If they knew where I was mentally, they would invite themselves over and help me. In a nice, non-intrusive way. I can't tell my friends. I don't want them to worry about me. I happened to mention in passing that I was on the way to the pharmacy, and my best friend got all prickly, because she is adamantly against me taking so many pills. They had me on a LOT of shit. I told her I was getting thyroid medication, which wasn't a lie, but neglected to include the fact that I also picked up fucking mirtazapine.

Like I told my therapist: if I'm going to take meds, I'm not going to try as hard as I have been trying. If I feel like sleeping all day, then fuck it. I'm going to sleep all day. Before, I would force myself to do at least one thing, and that would make me feel better, and I could probably do some more. Now, fuck it. Not happening. I'm so angry. So ashamed. So, so, so depressed. Nap time.

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Don't make me talk to myself, yo.

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