On my rollercoaster ride of depression, I’m currently at a very, very low point. I was finally able to connect with a therapist and my first session is tomorrow. So there’s that. I’ve been either sleeping too little or too much. For the past several days, I’ve not been able to talk myself into getting out of bed until the afternoon. I feel so useless. Like why bother going through the motions. I’ve been eating either way too little or too much of the wrong things.
Still waiting on a decision on my disability. Meanwhile, I need food, gas, pet supplies. All of my bills are overdue. I have no answers for the nice folks that keep calling me about them or sending me letters or email. Many of my clothes don’t fit anymore. It’d be nice to have a pair of orthopedic slippers for around the house. It’d be nice to go to a movie.
I’ve been trying to read or listen to music but that’s not really working on my anxiety. It helps for a little while. And I guess those small moments will have to do for now. My dreams are full of all kinds of anxiety induced monsters.
I am hoping that therapy will help. Except I am anxious about the added expense on top of everything else. But I know I need the help. But I will continue to fret.
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I feel like I’m waiting, waiting, waiting. The requested evals are done. So I am waiting for some strangers in an office not too far from here to decide if I am broken enough to receive disability.
I am seeing pictures from my friends at Pennsic and my friends travelling to Worldcon and I am wistful. I want to travel. I want to dress up in funny clothes and have magical encounters.
I miss my Nia. She’s haunting my dreams. I hope she’s okay. Yes, I’ve tried to contact her but I have heard nothing back. I worry, too, about my friend Beth. I miss, as well, those friends and acquaintances from all of the places I’ve lived and visited over the years.
Worry is my old friend. I fret, as usual, about money. I fret about being useless. I couldn’t even hold the coffee carafe to fill it this morning. I had to use two hands. I had a spurt of activity feeding the critters (birds and kitties). I fed myself too. But then I was tired, tired. I just want a nap.
Or I want to be elsewhere. Or maybe someone else. My 25 year old self, maybe. Or in a different universe where I stayed in NC. Or finished my degree and did good things for humanity. Or never left Tucson. Or ran off to join a commune.
I hate, hate, hate having to ask others for help all the time. I remember when I was the one able to lend a hand. Buy a meal or run an errand.
I am sad. I am useless.
I am depressed. I haven’t blogged about it or really written very explicitly about it in quite some time. It’s because I’m in a truly dark place and depression lies. It lies and tells me that no one cares, no one wants to hear about my feelings/struggles. It tells me that people are tired of my constant struggles with depression and finances and my whining about my life when obviously I have many good things.
I am worried and stressed and my depression lies and tells me that I’m being stupid/silly. Any problem I have is my own fault and I should just *fix* it already. I’m not sleeping or eating well (this is very bad due to my eating disorder past and I know it but my depression tells me that it doesn’t matter).
My depression tells me that everyone around me would be better off if I disappeared from the world entirely. That ceasing to exist would be a vast improvement to my current state of uselessness.
I’m wrestling with it, the darkness, my old friend, my depression brain. I’m trying a new antidepressant but it hasn’t had a chance to kick in yet. I’m applying music therapy and playing silly games and trying, trying, trying to shut out the noise, the lies. I’m mostly managing to get out of bed everyday so there’s that.
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Sleep has been elusive but when I do sleep, I dream. Boy howdy do I dream. In vivid Technicolor with THX digital sound. In three-part harmony.
I’m assuming these dreams are created out of my anxieties, worries, concerns and other deeply, deeply buried issues from my psyche. Some of them are quite….disturbing.
I regularly dream about dead people. My dead relatives visit me often. I suppose I could go all woo and say that they are bringing me messages from the cosmos or that there is some deep philosophical and/or spiritual shit going on with those dreams. I also regularly dream about being part of a resistance/rebellion/super secret agent. Usually hiding from THEM(tm), fighting THEM(tm), saving refugees or an asset from THEM(tm). Plus I dream about bathrooms. Not sure why. Luxurious and large tubs and showers. Enough room to have a party in the bathroom with several people plus a sideboard for refreshments. And a full bar, of course. The type of bathroom Heinlein frequently included in his books.
Recent dreams include vacationing somewhere (the hotel room had a large hot tub in the center) and my partner having a heart attack while we are out touristing. He got taken to a hospital and I am assured he will be fine. But I am left alone and uncertain. Ugh. I woke up feeling really panicked and upset.
I’ve had several dreams of late that leave me feeling uneasy, upset and generally exhausted emotionally. My dreams take me to places that I do not wish to go and explore all the dark places of my mind.
I had serious, no tricking, night terrors when I was a child. I frequently would lie awake listening to music hoping to not sleep. I learned lucid dreaming and how to reshape my dreams from the incredibly terrifying things they were to something rather less icky.
I have a *LOT* of fears around protecting my family/loved ones and my ability/inability in that regard. It may come from losing my parents and brother when I was in my 20s. So many of my dreams were/are about threats to those people and my attempts to save them. The worst ones are where I am kept somehow from taking action. Those really put me in a poor headspace for the day(week..month)
So my head is full of darkness and it is seeping into my dreams.