Saturday, November 19, 2016

The Ship of Myself (Depression, Part 1)

I started taking Prozac about a week before the election, when I was relatively optimistic about the election results. I never thought I’d look back on that as a time when I was relatively together. I recognize that depression is bigger than I am, and that I need help and intervention outside myself. I can only do so much on my own. I’ll post a list of some of the self care ideas I’ve been using shortly. I didn’t see it as a premonition then but now I wonder. I’ve always had a kind prescience about some things, and I really wonder if my consciousness was setting off some kind of: "Iceberg, right ahead!" warning before the ship of myself crashed headlong into destruction, ripping a hole in my heart enough o let me sink.
I’ve always had issues with depression. I’ve been on anti-depressants before. I’m barely moving. The week after, I’ve at least regained the ability to go to work and act like a semi-functional human being. Wednesday the 9th and Thursday the 10th were difficult days, and I went through them like a zombie, feel like I was carrying around a giant hole in my heart, like a shotgun blast. It’s amazing to me that no one ever said anything, no one seemed to notice that I’m just faking it over here. I know, people have their own stuff to deal with and I shouldn’t expect people to recognize my own personal signs of falling, even while at the same time I work hard to make it look like I’m not drowning.
Does anyone ever stop to think just how easy it is deceived people into thinking we’re okay? Itsn’t it amazing how much just one smile can hide?
When the sadness gets too much, I shut down. Like I did last night. After a day of PD at work, and then a visit to my next job, when I was finally allowed to go home, I just crawled under the covers and stayed there. This morning, I’m trying to dig my way out. I’ve cleaned up some of the dirty dishes in the sink, did a load of laundry, straightened up avalanches of toppling books and notebooks. Will sweep the kitchen and mop the floor. Started a fire in the kitchen oven and in the living room fireplace (we use wood stove heat for much of the house.) And there’s something satisfying about completing these small tasks, but still, when they’re done, I meet myself at the other end.

No comments:

Post a Comment

So cold

I have never been this cold before, inside and out. It's hard to think, it's hard to process a thought. There's no physical heat...