Daily Archives: July 16, 2018

The Problem With Knowing

A common thing I hear non-depressed people say to depressed people is “you never know what life will bring”. But that couldn’t be further from the truth for a person with mental illness. I fully understand that I will eventually have another crippling bout of depression. I know with amazing clarity that I will have […]

Summertime sadness

Kiss me hard before you go
(In which I argue July mood disturbances right after summer solstice are a real thing)

Trigger warning: just stop reading this stupid post.

The summer solstice was June 21st this year.   Every year roughly two weeks afterward my mood becomes very unstable.  This year is no different.  I think it's all tied to circadian rhythms as to whether it's the most or least sunlight of the year.  I typically have extreme depression in January after the winter solstice.  July is different.  It's close to a mixed state.  It's a dangerous time.  Bouncing up and down. 
In addition to it being a extremely annoying thing to see coming, there's also the annoyance of no one seeming to believe it's a real thing.  It's real people.  It's real.  It's fucking real.  So to my counselors and pdoc... please kindly go to hell with your quizzical looks.  And what can only be a smug skepticism behind that look.  It's real to my mom, her sister, and her brother.  They themselves barely believe it no matter how many times I insist it's not about their birthdays and getting older (they were all born in July).

What I don't get is that my pdoc says it's a good idea to keep using my light box.  Like, there's too much sunlight out there.  That's the problem.  Why should I expose myself to more light.  But I'm doing it anyways.

I'm often suicidal during this time, make medication changes, and self-medicate during this time.  July of 2004 I was smoking weed regularly and stopped taking Paxil without telling anyone.  I ended up alone in a park, under a tree canopy, sobbing in the rain.  With a knife.  Luckily a knife not worth shit.  But I can still see the scars where I cut myself... barely drawing blood. 

Last July I asked my pdoc for a medication at a dose I knew was too high.  Sent me into dangerous hypomania.  Not sleeping.  Weird thoughts.  Journaling weird shit.  Akathisia.

This July?  Giving up the sobriety efforts more or less.  Risky impulsive behavior.  Lottery tickets and scratch-offs.  Waking up at weird times.  More social media involvement.  No patience.  Withdrawal from my family.  Coldness followed by sudden closeness.  Keep bouncing.

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The Sandwich Saved Me

What do you do when depression is flogging you and your efforts to fight back take more out of you than give back?

For me, I retreat into binge watching TV shows. This weekend, it’s been both seasons of Jessica Jones, based on a Marvel comic. For the last few years, I’ve been absorbed with the DC comics series like The Flash and Arrow. It never occurred to me Marvel series might have something quirky to offer until I watched this year’s Cloak and Dagger. Now I have two Marvel universes to get lost in when the sandwich isn’t saving me.

Come on, that is hilarious! And kudos to them for season one with David Tenant as the evil villain. Oh I love that man, he brings snark to every character though some of his work has been pretty…shall we say bleak? Or is that just British not-Dr.Who-programming? Nah, I watched the US show Gracepoint with Tenant, he’s a very versatile actor. Easy on the eyes too but it’s always the accent and the snark for me.

I guess I am posting because…I woke again, this morning, and was disappointed that I was awake. Which I guess means disappointed to be alive because dead people can’t wake up, only the living can, so if every single day you are filled with disappointment and dread upon waking…stands to reason something is wrong with your life or your mind. My life is plenty 50 shades of fucked up but currently, I think the depression is just winning 6 out of 7 days of the week. Which I predicted would happen when the doctor refused to up my meds and leave me hanging for three months, but hey, what do I know, I’m just the fucking patient who has to wither in this mental space and watch my life slip away from me.

And it pisses me off and fills me with shame. So many others have it far worse, their lives are far more meaningful than mine, and here I am, feeling like I lost all my limbs when I am abled bodied yet my mind won’t cooperate for shit and honestly, I am about self-bullied out. I am pep talked out. I am shamed out. I WANT THE SANDWICH TO COME SAVE ME NOW.

My kid returned from her zoo outing and ya know what? I’m kind of glad I didn’t take her. All she did was gripe that they couldn’t buy her this and they had to eat hotdogs cos it was the only semi affordable thing then she was griping in the car on the way back so much they actually stopped to buy her a coloring book and crayons to shut her up…And she had the nerve to tell them she thought it was boring at the zoo at one point and damn near made my nephew’s girlfriend cry. Welcome to Spook experience, people, all the work, zero gratitude, and incessant complaints all in hopes maybe once a week you hear the word ‘thank you’ and get a hug. Pfft…If I want to be dissed and hear complaints, it’s called every day of the week. So even a $150 trip to the zoo didn’t please her. Maybe she’s just one of those kids nothing will ever satisfy.

She just found out her little friend next door is going to be moving and she is pretty bummed. They’re gonna stay in Armpit but I guess living with the mother in law and grandma is too much for them, they want their own place and good for them. If I’d had to live with any of my family once I had Spook, blood would have been spilled. Lots, and lots, and lots of blood. I am trying to be supportive and sympathetic for her sake, but she’s having none of it, she wants to embrace her misery in a chokehold. Sigh. I want my misery to fuck off and die in a fire.

I did have a little ‘cool but in a sad way’ moment earlier when she said she was soooo exicted for tomorrow. I asked why and she said because we have the standing pizza date in town. She’s looking forward to taking lunch across the road to the park and eating with her mom….Yeah, right. She’ll take two bites then find another kid or some playground equipment to ditch me for. But she’s looking forward to it and I am too. Thanks to our very good friend Mr. M preordering and buying it for us, I will be getting one wish granted this week-for Marco’s pizza. And it’s so very good and they don’t do a lot of business so I feel like I have to eat there every chance I get before they too are run out of rural hell….Anyway, we love you, Mr. M.

Now back to the final two episodes of season 2 of Jessica Jones. No sandwiches have saved lives this season, but they did have an episode called “Shark in the Bathtub, Monster In The Bed.” Oooh, sharks and monsters and sandwiches, oh my. One of them please save me. God knows my psychiatric care center isn’t doing a damn thing to even try.

And people wonder why I watch so much TV and prefer fiction to reality. Yeah, total mystery. NOT. Bloody hell.

Good Morning!

Good morning!  I’m back from my trip and glad to be done with dance for a while.  My youngest enjoyed herself and learned a lot so that is good.  That’s why we go.  The competition was okay–our girls didn’t get the highest ratings but also did not get the lowest either, so that was nice.  They got  a lot of applause whenever they performed so that was nice as well–they were crowd pleasers.

I forgot to pack one of my meds and it started to show Sunday–I was very jumpy and anxious.  But I’m back on it today and am managing well so far.  I just miscounted my pill bottles and forgot to recheck them.

Long day ahead–I’ve got to  go to the grocery store and get food and what not and then I’m not sure what I’m going to do.  I am still so tired–I had a lot of trouble with reflux last night and did not sleep well until late at night.  I didnt’ cough any, just felt the heartburn coming on.

Hope everyone has a great start to their week!