So, one of the things my therapist told me when I was really depressed was to try to have fun, to play. It was as if he was speaking Japanese to me, it sounded so foreign a concept. The vicious cycle of depression makes you not want to do the things that you used to enjoy. And by not doing those things, by staying in bed, or just sitting in front of the TV, you can make your depression worse. You don’t do those things you like because depression robs you of the will to do them, to your agency, and energy. That’s why depression is so horrible. It is literally a thief. Of your time. Your happy feelings. Even your will to survive.
Because of a combination of meds and therapy, my depression lifted. I feel very lucky that I was able to get through it. That I had a good support system and the tools to ask for help. I know a lot of people suffer because they can’t ask for help, for a multitude of reasons.
I still consider myself to have severe anxiety and moderate depression, even if the depression is in remission. But I am back to doing the activities I like, the ones that make me happy. From April to July I was unable to do them. Things like baking and cross-stitch. Tonight the simple act of making blueberry muffins made me feel good. And they were tasty too!
I guess I am coming to the realisation that I have to be careful. Treat myself kindly and keep doing my self-care treatments. Because after three major depressive episodes, it’s a certainty that I will have another depressive episode in my life. Likely more than one. Knowing that, maybe I will be able to recognize it earlier, and help it to be less severe.
Feel like I’m cracking up with all the stress in my life right now. Trying to declutter the house in order to sell, getting painters and cleaners and going to the new already built house to oversee plumbing and electrical. First coat of paint is on in each room. It’s starting to look like a house.
But it feels like the stress may just kill me. Went back to dr to get an increase in my clonazepam. It doesn’t seem to be working yet. Still get upset at every little thing. Still so high-strung I feel like I’m about to snap. Is this the way it’s going to be then? Is this the best I can hope for? It paints a bleak picture.
The only good thing is that I haven’t continued to gain weight even though I’ve increased my meds. I’ve stayed the same weight since July. Small victories.
They are building a playground across from our new house. This would make some people happy, but I have two barky von schnauzers who aren’t exactly fond of kids playing. Too erratic, too loud. Ha. Me and the dogs have a lot in common.
Maybe I’ll have to get on valium or something. I just want to not be so upset and irritable all the time. I don’t think I’m very pleasant to be around.
TAKE your meds.
You’d think I would have this figured out by now, but somehow my brain is hardwired to think I don’t need these pills. I’ll be fine if I just take deep breaths, focus on a non-moving point, centre myself, use mindfulness, etc…
Guess what? Sometimes anxiety can’t be willed away. Sometimes you have to rely on your medications.
I’m just learning this. I went to the psychiatrist yesterday, and he upped my anxiety meds. I had only been taking 0.5 of the clonazepam, but now I am going to take that dose twice a day. That is not a large dose apparently, but just might be enough to keep me from having my panic attacks. Now that selling our house and moving is becoming a looming reality, my anxiety is through the roof and I’m having un-precipitated attacks. They were definitely getting worse.
You know those “keep calm” posters you always see? I need one that says “Keep calm and take your meds”!
Keep Calm and Take Your Meds
- On Anxiety (damnitdelani.wordpress.com)