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.

Anger and Despair

Anger and Despair,
Anger and Despair,
Do dodo dooo
Anger and Despair.

I thought maybe if I made up a cute little song about my crazy, it would be kind of cute and fun. Maybe whimsical. Not so much.

I'm having one of my really angry cranky weeks. I'm feeling some anger toward pretty much anyone who crosses my path. Holy crazy. My sweet, well intentioned man came over last night with the intention of cheering me up. I had to work very hard at not biting his head off. He does not have the experience with depression to understand that the plan of "cheering up" a depressed person does not necessarily work. He did make me feel loved and warm for a minute. But then I think it might have backfired somehow, because we ended the evening with him annoyed with me. I'm not even totally clear on what it was that he was upset about. I'm not saying he was upset for no reason... but I have no idea what I did. I was trying very hard not to be irritable and angry with him. I don't know if he felt like I was being cold because I was holding back... I'm not really sure.

I hate how my depression seems to cripple my relationships. Bleh.

Stupidity

I made a huge mistake. And continue to make it. It's interesting what loneliness and isolation can drive you to. Even in this anonymous space, I can't admit what I did. It's too big, and too ugly, and yet to most of you would not be as big and ugly as it is for me. But it is big and ugly to me. And I hate that even a few trusted friends even know. I feel like this road of depression has lead me to be a person that I never meant to be. I never wanted to be this. But I can't seem to be who I want to be, even when I try with all my might. Is it just me, or is the world getting uglier? I feel like the whole world is slowly going crazy. Or maybe that's just me.

Thievery

I am fully convinced now that Depression steals from people. I have had whole parts of my identity stolen from me. That's not to say I can't get them back. But it is trying to take things from me. It is greedy, and it grabs at things, and holds onto them tight, and hopes that I will forget I once owned those things.

Like what? For one, my interests. I like to cook. But it has been so long since I've truly been able to remember the pleasurable parts of cooking that I have lost a lot of my cooking skills. People who I would characterize as good friends, and people who hardly know me, all think that I don't know how to cook, and that I don't really enjoy it. It surprises me and irritates me when I discover this attitude and belief in people. It is frustrating when my friends give me the same look my mom used to give me when I said I wanted to sew a quilt (she's seen me with a sewing machine--straight lines are harder than you think!) when I say I like cooking. I do like to cook. But even now, as the meds are returning me to a place of balance where I have interest in DOING things again, I struggle to make that true again. Because I've forgotten how somehow. And I can't think what to do. I have vague intentions of doing it again, and more often. But I feel deeply rooted in the rut in which I have entrenched myself.

It also has stolen my happiness. And I don't just mean the ability to feel it from day to day. I mean, while I've been so deeply immersed in a dark and dreary existence, I missed LIFE. I didn't choose things that maybe would have put me in better places. I seem to have lost some of the bonds with friends and loved ones that kept us bound to each others' daily lives. I'm alone. Other people around me seem to have managed to end up happy and WITH people, and DOING things. I do things, but alone.

I can't quite fully articulate what depression has stolen. People who have never felt it will often say, or privately think, that we are responsible for the loss we experience when we allow things to happen TO us. I don't dispute that. I have let a lot of things happen to me. I have been in those deep dark places where I don't care, because of a crazy chemical imbalance. It is all my fault my life is not different. And at the same time, it is NOT my fault. I have control over where I am, but I don't have control. I feel both ways. In my healthy moments, I can see what I should have done. But in those unhealthy moments, I didn't see it. 

So many times, from so many people, I've heard the viewpoint expressed that the dark ugly points in our lives make our lives richer, and deeper, and more the person we are meant to be. And on my sunny days, I agree with this concept, and sometimes even embrace it. But on my dark, desperate, miserable days, I despise this theory. I find it deplorable. What doesn't kill us might make us stronger. Or it might debilitate us and suspend us in our anguish.

I'm Super Sneaky.... Right?

In my life I have observed addiction and the havoc it wreaks on a person. I've seen someone in the early stages, who may succeed in hiding the addiction and gloss over the effects it is having on them. I have seen that same person begin to fail to hid their addiction, but not recognize that everyone can see their addiction. And sadly, I have seen the later stages, where all effort at hiding it are thrown aside, and the addiction has a firm grip on the person, and the effects really start to show. The person is changed by it. Depression can have a similar grip on a person, and I think have some similar effects.

Today I wondered to myself how I appear to others given my depression. I know that there have been moments where I have thought I was hiding the effects, but it was clear to at least those who love me and are close to me that I was deeply depressed. I know that there have been moments where I know the effects are evident to people, and I've not had either the energy or the inclination to attempt to hide the signs . But I don't know for sure how things look in general, and to all those in my lives.

Today, the man I have been dating was supposed to come over. He hasn't been over in a few weeks, and I have not had any other visitors in that time. I'm not going to lie; my house was an absolute wreck. I can be a pretty good housekeeper, especially when I am healthy. But when I am feeling a lot of stress or am really in the thick of my depression, it shows in how I take care of things around me. The chaos in my brain seems to translate to chaos in every aspect of my life. In normal circumstances, gaining some order in the aspects I can control, like my living environment and my office, helps me gain some control over my life (but my control issues are a whole other topic). But when I'm really unhealthy mentally, the physical order does not overcome my broader issues of foggy unfocus, inability to process emotions well, and lack of interest in.... anything. Including succeeding. Success? Not that great to depressed SadGirl.

I can't quite fully articulate the different I feel between healthy SadGirl and unhealthy SadGirl. All those symptoms on the little checklist they have you fill out at the doctor's office to determine the magnitude of your depression seem to have gained new meaning to me in the last year. Because I didn't realize how bad it could really get. And I feel like I've got a firm grasp on just how bad it can get. Am hoping I can move beyond that soon to having a distant memory of how that felt. But I digress.

So, my man is coming over. And I spent about an hour rushing around cleaning things and vacuuming and putting things away and doing dishes and organizing things. Which made me think of addiction. And how I think I can hide my illness. And the man? Super observant and good at noticing things. Which makes me wonder, am I like the crazy addicted person who insists they are not drunk even though they smell like a brewery and slur their words? Is he totally onto me? Also, is this a thing a lot of people dealing with depression do? I feel like I need to google "tips for hiding your depression." Maybe there is a guide for this. Am totally going to do that right now. Right after I click "publish."

Nature

I work with people who talk about "self care" a lot. It's important. I am bad at it. It doesn't help that I live alone, and have no compelling reason to leave work at a reasonable hour a lot of the time. I kind of suck at taking care of myself. This has been compounded in my lack of interest in, you know, life. Recently I've found an interest in life again. This is very encouraging. Things bring me joy, and, dare I hope, peace. I find myself not only excited to make plans, but willing to actually carry them out. I suddenly have the ability to enjoy things again. Mind you, I have not suddenly become an extrovert. Large social events still don't thrill me. Or even small social events, really. But I have rediscovered my love of nature. The last hike I took, my spirit was practically singing. I felt bliss. I did not know that bliss was still a thing! I might have to try this nature thing again.