I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.
To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT
I'm still struggling in the Shit Bubble.
Today I was in the elevator at work and it stopped at another floor on the way down to the lobby. A really obese woman got in with some of her team mates, chatting away. I'm not thin by any means, but I found myself looking at her and thinking "I would put up with being that fat if I could be that happy."
Isn't that pathetic?
Getting to work in the first place was a gargantuan effort today. I woke up at 7am and went to take my morning pee and just started crying and crying. Fluffy Bear suggested I go back to bed till 8 and he'd drive me to work, so I set another alarm and crawled back under the covers. I didn't sleep heavily by any means, but I woke up at 8am feeling marginally better.
Still, I wasn't well. The Shit Bubble felt like lead around me. I was cheerleading frantically to simply move through my morning ablution routine.
"I promise you, you can do it," I repeated to myself, over and over again.
I cried through washing my hair, my face, my body.
I promise you, you can do it.
It was reduced to just sniffling through drying my hair, and I managed to get dressed without tears.
I promise you, you can do it.
As I ate cereal, I was visualizing myself at my desk, doing my work, being functional, being normal.
I promise you, you can do it. I promise you, you can do it. I promise you, you can do it.
Fluffy Bear drove me to work and I started with a very simple task, trying to distract myself. It worked.
I made it through to 10:45 before I noticed the time, but said no to two different requests to go to coffee with colleagues. There's no way I could have made conversation.
"You look terrible," Sue said to me when she came up to my cube. I wasn't offended. It was actually reassuring. When you feel like crap from depression you sometimes think that you must be imagining your problems, that you're just creating the issue, that, frankly, you're full of crap. So knowing that pain showed on my face, that it was real, was a validation.
I made it through to 1:45 before I phoned Fluffy Bear and asked him to come and pick me up. Nobody questioned me when I left early. I guess I really did look like shit.
But I promised myself I could do it, and I did it. Not for the whole working day, but I got some stuff done.
Me 1, Depression 0.
DEPRESSION IS LIKE A BRUISE THAT NEVER GOES AWAY. A BRUISE IN YOUR MIND. YOU JUST GOT TO BE CAREFUL NOT TO TOUCH IT WHERE IT HURTS. IT'S ALWAYS THERE, THOUGH.
JEFFREY EUGENIDES
To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html