Sad

Meds update. I’ve been on remeron for 5 weeks now. I see a big difference. I am able to do work again. The crying spells have lifted almost completely. I still have what I call “blue funks” (my own combination of anger/irritability/sadness) but not as frequently. I still have general anxiety daily so I’m continuing on with the clonazepam on a low dose. The addition of remeron was making me quite sleepy with the prozac and clonazepam, so the psychiatrist lowered the prozac dose by 20 mgs. Since the prozac has a long half-life in your system I’m only starting to see a difference now in regards to sleeping, after a week. I’m taking fewer naps and I’m getting a full 8 hours of solid sleep each night. Granted I have bizarre dreams, but it’s a side-effect that is not a deal breaker. Oh,  and I’ve put on 10 lbs. I’m trying to exercise more to combat the weight gain that remeron can (and has) caused. Also because exercise is “good” for me. Blah.

But what I really want to write about is that my therapy with M has ended. I’m pretty upset about it. Two weeks ago he told me that he had done all he could for me, that we have used all the resources available to us and that it was up to me to do the work, outside of sessions. It really came out of left field for me. Of course I didn’t expect therapy to go on forever, but I don’t think I am ready to leave the proverbial nest quite yet, either. I feel like there’s a ways for me to go yet, in terms of learning to cope with daily situations, work on my thesis, and especially in terms of my personal relationships. He thinks he’s done all he can.

I’m not sure I buy it. Maybe it’s because I don’t want the sessions to end, because I’m losing my support system. He wants me to lean on friends. I told him I didn’t have any local friends that I felt I could share my deepest feelings with, and he told me it was time to reach out, make new friends, outside of my partner and sister. I have no idea how to do that.

Maybe it’s my ego talking, but part of me wonders if he felt anything for me, beyond being just another client. Could that have been why? Or maybe he terminated sessions with me because he saw that I was starting to care too much for him. Not romantically, but as a friend, instead of a therapist. And therapists frown on that sort of thing. Maybe that’s why I feel like I was dumped.

He knows I’m upset and not ready to let go.  We talked about it for the entire session today, our last session. After our time was up, he shook my hand. He refused a hug.  It’s over.

And I’m more than a little sad and confused. He was my shoulder, and now I don’t have one anymore.

 

Baby-Bird-Learning-to-Fly1

Advertisements

It never goes away

Or at least that’s what it feels like. Today I woke up feeling down. My psychologist says that recovery is not a straight line uphill. That just because I feel a bit better one day, doesn’t mean I won’t have a sad day the next. No shit. Right now my good days are still few.

Anyway, I woke up down, so I made the effort to do things that would make me feel good (or at least okay). I went for coffee and had a nice latte. I shopped a little. I picked out new eyeglasses.

Still felt shitty.

Took a nap.

Still shitty.

Forced myself to do laundry and make the bed.

Still shitty.

It’s always there. The tears might not come,  but the sadness, that I can rely on.

Oh, and “sadness” is the most unsatisfactory word. There is no word that indicates the total sadness,  loss of joy,  and hopelessness that is depression. The word “depression” doesn’t even cover it.

Screw you,  dictionary. Screw you,  depression.

FYI: I’m new at this blog stuff and am just figuring out links and stuff.  This blog by Christy is good. http://sweetandsavoring.com/

The blog “Hyperbole and a Half” by Allie is the best description of depression on the entire Internet.  Thank you Allie, for putting it into words for me. http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.ca/

Depression comes with mood swings

I didn’t realize that depression comes with mood swings.  I thought depression meant you were sad all the time.  But it’s not like that, at least not for me. I have periods of intense clarity, times when I can go out, get out of my pajamas and wear nice clothes, put on makeup, go for coffee. I did that today. It felt good. It felt good to connect with a friend for an hour. But afterward the crash came. I was exhausted, spent.  It took all my energy to go to a cafe and sit there with a cappuccino for an hour. An activity that I liked, but which absolutely took the good out of me.  How lame is that?  I know, I know, bad self-talk there, but I can’t help but think of how much people are achieving, every day, and my big achievement today was to get dressed and go for coffee. 😦

It’s true that I felt good during the afternoon, but this morning I could barely get out of bed.  I was so inexplicably sad that nothing mattered. I cried myself to sleep last night. For no reason.  My partner was worried to death. I told her I just wanted the sadness to stop. I don’t intend to harm myself (commit suicide), but I felt so out of control in regard to my emotions, that it was something bigger than me, that I was just the vessel for this big monster of sadness that was taking over me.  Last night was a blur, and then most of this morning, probably because I was so exhausted from last night.

Then the cloud lifted, temporarily.  I went for coffee.  Then I came home, napped for an hour, and was able to make dinner.  Again, my self-critic says “big deal! You made dinner!”  That self -critic is sure a bitch.

I panicked this morning, when I looked at a bottle of pills, and thought, how easy it would be for me to take all of them and just go to sleep.  But I won’t.  I could never do that to my family. I’d be miserable for life if it meant they wouldn’t have to suffer. But damn, is it hard.  So I called my psychologist and made an emergency appointment for tomorrow morning.  No doubt I’ll get there, and he’ll tell me exactly what he’s been telling me for weeks, that it will pass, I will get better, than I have to exercise patience, that I have to accept the depression and realize that I can’t do some of the things I used to do.  But I CAN’T accept this!  There has got to be something else I can do.

I’m still on the waitlist for a psychiatrist.  Right now my GP is prescribing my meds.  My appointment in June 11th.  I pray the wellbutrin starts really sinking in soon, and then when I see the psychiatrist he won’t change the meds.  The med addition (or changes, what have you) are really difficult.  I have only been on this new one 3.5 weeks and I’m out of my mind waiting for it to work.  The sadness is incredible.  And the mood swings (which are mostly a swing in a happy direction, not manic or angry): I can’t tell if they are really mood swings or am I just having a few good hours? Of course one of the symptoms of depression is confusion, so sometimes I can’t tell if I’m overreacting, or what is going on.

Depression is a bitch.  At one point I looked at my watch and I couldn’t tell what time it was.  It was like I forgot how to read a clock.  Just fucking great. It was probably only a few seconds that I stared at it, but enough to panic me once more.  Will this ever pass?