It’s been an uneventful few days and yet…
My will to live is at critical zero. I’m on auto pilot only it’s wired with a bomb and I’m what’s gonna blow up.
Triggers, triggers, what happened….
Fact is, I am overwhelmed from every direction. Feeling like even your own thoughts are ninja attacks is not normal, healthy, nor is it a sign your psych care or med regime is really working. I have become so desperate I’ve learned to confuse “out of bed” with “this med makes me feel better.”
The darkest lie is the one your brian tells to you.
I see no hope at the end of the tunnel. I can’t father my thoughts to regain equilibrium. I am NOT happy and it is not merely situational. Perhaps THIS is the real breakthrough. Realizing I’ve been so societally programmed and beaten down that I think merely being able to get out of bed means the Trintellix/Wellbutrin combo is working. Being functional has nothing to do with feeling good, hopeful, or in a mind set to plan a better future for mself and my child.
Where does this leave me?
I have less than zero idea.
I’ve just finally reached the point where “upright and functioning”are not good enough. I’ve come to accept hopelessness as a sign of progress, as in growing up and accepting life is hard and depressing sometimes. But this is NOT normal.
Wanting to sleep 24-7, even when your nightmares are just as grueling but you like them cos you can wake up from them…This is not meds working. This is grasping at straws.
This is depression.
Unfortunately, I’ve laid claim to hoping the med combo is working and just needs a higher dose but this is at the highest dose…
This is depression.
And as much as my bipolar axis two manic epiosdes are awesome…This part is agony.
If only I had a haunting I could call a ghostbuster.
When you have all encompassing depression and your mental healthcare team has left you in the lurch with their own staff shortage issues so you get stuck outside looking in…
The receptionist is the only one you can call and you gotta pray for an open space…
BUt hey, my disorders are so disabbling me, I can’t even work up the courage to use the phone and make my agony known.
Fucked up how my personality is so scary I run off men left and right yet…I’m so hindered by mood swings and anxiety I can’t even make a fucking phone call. Panic attacks mimick symptoms of a heart arythmia so what sane person would want to do something to bring on a panic attack?
Do not ever tell me these conditions aren’t a disability. They impact every aspect of my life, good or bad, big or small, and I am fighting like a warrior to beat it but…
Sometimes even warriors fall and fail.