Bad Day

It seems that at least a few days a month now, and often the whole week before my period too, I feel so depressed and desperate. I feel like it should not be this hard when I'm medicated.  The pain is palpable. I've had to take a few sick days. I feel like my mental illness is becoming debilitating. It's hard to contain my anxiety and maintain the appearance of normal function. It's becoming too large to hide. 

I was already feeling off this morning and trying to figure out how I would make it through the day at work when I got a text. A young woman I worked with was shot and killed this week. She did nothing wrong. Some crazy man shot her.  It adds to the feeling that this world has tilted and has become the hell I sometimes feel I'm living in. 

My thoughts are muddled. I can't even express this turmoil I feel caught in. It's a bad day. I would like more good days please. 

The Disconnect

In the past year or so I have becoming increasingly isolated. Friends that I used to call close I can't seem to keep up with anymore. My mind is easily filled with thoughts that my friends find me to be a nuisance or that they're mad at me. 

I have one friend who admitted to me last year that she had distanced herself from me intentionally. I think she meant my anxiety was too much for her. Since she told me that I feel awkward reaching out to her. I read into her response or lack of response on Facebook to comments I post. I'm not sure if she's genuine when she agrees that we should get together. I'm not surprised that none of those plans have worked out. I saw her the other day and it was awkward. I was awkward. I'm getting more and more uncomfortable in my own skin. So many negative thoughts flood my head. I know that all of my friends can't feel as negatively as my mind tells me right now. I feel trapped by my anxiety. It's taking away my friends. I don't know how to be myself anymore. 

My Procrastination

I like to procrastinate. Maybe that's the wrong way to say it. I feel the need to procrastinate. A deep gripping overwhelming need to procrastinate. As though my life depended on it. I recently had an epiphany about this. I procrastinate to avoid The anxiety. The anxiety is too much.  If I look at my bills then I know that I'll be anxious about money and I'll be anxious about how much I make and I'll be anxious about the coming dentist bill that I can't pay. I think about the taxes I need to file and whether or not I did healthcare right last year. This turns into a worry about how the IRS is going to take away all my tax return. Then I worry about my retirement and how I'm behind on saving for it. Then I think about how I shouldn't file all of these papers floating around my apartment. Which makes me think I need to clean my apartment. If if I clean my apartment then I start to think about all of the things that I need to get rid of or the things I have nowhere to put. And then I think about how I have too much stuff. And then I think about how I have only six months left on my lease and I still haven't gotten everything put away. I'm  going to have to start packing soon.  

So at least now I know where all this avoidance comes from. Perhaps this seems obvious.  But I didn't know why I was sending everything out and hoping that it would go away. I had become such an airhead. I realize now it was self-preservation because there was too much anxiety over every thoughts I hadn't realized that I was anxious all the time. Somehow I missed that this was the over arching feeling. But I feel like I'm finally waking up.  I hope it's not too painful. 

Robin.

I'm not one of those people who thinks of celebrities like I know them and posts about them and their babies and their weddings and whatever like it's my business. I do have certain celebrities that I love as artists, because I like their body of work. Robin Williams is probably one of my all-time favorites. He's one of the first faces I grew to love on TV. No, not as Genie. I'm a wee bit older than that. I loved him as Mork. His wackiness and smiling face spoke to me as a child. I loved seeing him sit on his head, and say "Nanu, Nanu."  I did also love him as a teenager in roles like Mrs Doubtfire and the Genie. He had such a sweet spirit and a humor that seemed to speak to all generations alike.

I remember hearing once that Robin had mental health issues. I believe the rumor had something to do with how he was in and out of mental asylums. You know, the regular mental health stigmas magnified. I didn't worry about it too much one way or another. I've never been huge on digging into a celebrity's personal life. But I knew that he had issues at some point with depression. When I heard he passed away, I feared that it was suicide. I am so sad to have that confirmed. Robin and Mr Rogers came into my home and touched my heart when I was just a little mite. I think because I have felt connected to him since I was little, this news made me especially sad. I hate to think of that seemingly gentle, smiling funny man in such a desperate place. I hate to think of the desperation and darkness he must have been feeling. What ugly thoughts had probably worked their way into his mind and seemed so real and so large that they obstructed any joy. I think that given the recent darkness I've been feeling, it struck a little close to home. In the past year or so, I've felt more despair and loneliness than ever before. The realness of that darkness pinches at my gut when I hear about other people who couldn't make it another day. I feel just a smidgen of that kind of pain that visits me when I'm at my darkest. I wish someone could have been there to take it away from him. I wonder if he prayed, or if he felt no greater power was out there. I have all these thoughts, and then I refrain from posting them anywhere but here, on my secret blog. Because this isn't really about me. And I did not know this man. But I still feel love for the part of him he shared with the world. And I wish he could have found a little hope.

Hey.

It's been a while. I would like to say it's because I've been super busy, but I haven't. Still no job. Lots of interviews. Everyone loves me. Tells me I was a top contender. Then offers job to other candidate. Very frustrating. Very wearing. Not feeling super good about myself currently. Also, you know how there's no extensions on unemployment? Yeah, that sucks too. Not sure what I'm going to do if someone doesn't hire me soon.

I've been noticing about myself lately that there is a serious edge of paranoia to my anxiety. I easily go from sending my friend a text to a minute later thinking that I probably offended them and they aren't answering me right away because I was so inconsiderate and that they are probably tired of me and my depressed ways and they've been distancing themselves from me anyways....

Yeah.  That's depressing. And exhausting. I'm exhausting to ME. But I seriously have been thinking that at least three or four of my friends didn't answer that ONE text message or like some joke I made on their Facebook page because they don't like me anymore. And I have two friends I can think of off the top of my head I'm scared to call because of that. Mind you, I'm not usually that girl. The one that people burn out on. I tend to isolate myself before anyone gets too burned out on my depression. But it could still happen right? That's probably what happened...


And this is how my brain occupies all this downtime.

Happy New Year?

Soooo... I lost my job.

I'm having a hard time with all the optimism out there right now. People on Facebook talking about how great this year is going to be, and how blessed they were last year. People telling me that this is Meant to Be, and that Something Good is out there for me. Um, that's what you said last year. You know, the year I felt like I took up permanent residence in the Pit of Despair, had a horrible streak at work where my boss who I had thought was one of my best friends decided she despised me and in fact could not take the sight of me or the sound of my voice, and then I lost said job. So a really great year. But I'm told Everything Happens for a Reason. Apparently I needed to learn what pain feels like. Lots and lots of isolating horrible pain.

Despite the incredibly bitter tinge to this post, I've actually been doing OK this week. Have been doing a passable job of not wallowing until today, and I have found things to keep me busy and positive. I do feel like I will get a job soon. I just am not excited about it. I'm tired of feeling like Someday this will all make sense. Can one of these lessons conclude so that I can see the point and feel like maybe some of this stuff will have an end?

And Some More Despair

Today I'm feeling pretty despair-y. Things just keep getting worse. In my saner moments, I can see that somehow I'm still standing, and I think that maybe this is a path I need to take that is hard but something I can survive and be stronger and happier for. And junk. But I am also tired. And I have moments where my heart cries out "how much more?"  Could I please have some peace and calm and rightness in my life?

Right now the miracle is probably that I am surviving. And I know I should be grateful. And many moments I am. But other moments, I just feel like the crazy is going to suck me in. And I feel scared. Because I don't know how much longer I can stand.