I’m terrible at updating my website, but here I am, and I don’t know how to really say what I need to.
Things are going well enough, I suppose. I still love my job, married life is pretty much the same as before we were married…
Anxiety and depression have made a resurgence. I guess there’s that.
These last several months have been difficult for me. I’m currently in the process of switching medication, which anyone who has done so before knows it’s not as easy as stopping one medication and starting the other. I have to be weaned from one slowly because I’ve been on it for over seven years. I’d say the process is going smoothly, but it’s not.
Lately I’ve been very unhappy. Depressed. I can’t function like I used to. I get up, work, and go back to sleep. If it’s a good day, I make dinner for Andy for when he gets home. If it’s a bad day, we either don’t eat or we get take-out, or if he manages to call on his way home, he stops to grab something. I try to force myself to have good days to at least get dinner made, but again, it’s not as easy as it seems.
Anxiety is terrible. It completely wipes me out for at least a day. I hate panic attacks. They’re awful and debilitating, and I would do anything not to have them.
I joined the local pool, which is nice. I enjoy the swimming. I go when it’s quiet and only older people are there, so I pretty much have the place to myself or at least my silence. I need to go again, but I’m so tired after work by 10:00 am I feel like I’ll just drown if I go.
Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning on land. Everything is too much. Moving is too much. Breathing is too much. But if I don’t do something, I feel like a failure.
Actually, I feel like a failure all the time. It’s a constant. There’s a voice in my head that always tells me I’m a failure, that I’m fake, that the only reason I have some modicum of success is because I’ve fooled people for long enough or they pity me. I’ve had those thoughts a long time, but I feel like I need to get them out again. People tell me it’s not true, but if it’s not, why do I feel so lonely? Why when I need people, do I feel so alone? Abandoned?
I love my job, but working remotely at my house has shown me just how few friends I really have. I thought I had more. But I guess out of sight, out of mind. I want to reach out, but I feel like I’m just an annoyance, because when I reach out, sometimes it’s because I’m having a bad day and need to talk to someone, and I feel like that’s too troublesome for most people.
When I post on Facebook – or my website like this – to be honest, it’s because I’ve gotten to the breaking point. My therapist called it a crisis point at our last session. Or was it the session before? I don’t remember. I’ve wanted to write this post for days now, but I was too afraid to. I was too afraid to write it because I didn’t want to upset anyone. But then I figured hey, no one will probably read it anyway, right?
So yeah. I’m depressed. I haven’t written a book in several years. I feel like a failure. A joke. A fake. But I try so hard to give everyone the best part of me, to listen and be there, but I leave nothing for myself. And I’m afraid no one will give back what I need in return. Most don’t, I’ve learned.
I get that I have my husband and family – though a lot of my family, I feel, has abandoned me, too – but it’s not the same. I wish I had friends who lived close by, who would stop over and visit and just sit with me when I needed it. I want to get out of my house, but I can’t leave it sometimes. Leaving it is too much and just thinking about it exhausts me or sets me off. Am I turning agoraphobic? Who knows. Maybe a touch.
Anyway. This post is rambling and raw and probably makes no sense, but it is what it is. I’m not editing it to make it pretty because quite frankly, I’m a mess, and my writing reflects that. Maybe someday I’ll get myself back. Or at least a self that can function to some degree.