I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. On top of major depression and generalized anxiety because the universe just hates my guts.
I also found a new therapist. Not only do I need to work on my past trauma and also get through Felicia’s death, I have to start wrapping my head around my diagnosis. This is a lot to take, honestly. I don’t know if I should be relieved that there’s an explanation behind the things I do and accept it or continue to feel like shit because I am not built for this.
Living with major depression has been a struggle for me. It takes a lot out of me just to get through getting up in the morning and doing the most mundane tasks. Then the tiredness and occasional body pains. The suicidal thoughts, the feeling of worthlessness, feeling helpless, feeling overwhelmed…I could go on and on. It’s really a lot to deal with. Now that I have another mental health diagnosis on top of all that, it’s a lot to take.
I know that this will be a work in progress. I’m a work in progress. But I’m glad I found a therapist who is willing to work with my issues (and she’ll probably need therapy once she gets to know me) and be there to help me come up with new coping skills. I don’t know exactly when I decided I was ready to be in therapy again but I feel like everything that I’ve been holding in and not addressing are weighing me down.
Now that my kids are older and pretty much self-sufficient, I need to work on myself so I can be a better mom, wife, and person. Even if it means facing my demons.
I’ve been asked if I’ll ever go back to Facebook/Twitter. That’s a definite no. Too much social media probably contributed to the worsening of my depression because there were people out there – not deliberately – making me feel like an awful human/mother/wife, etc. I know they’re not doing that on purpose but still…I just learned how to adult, okay? And get this, I can barely see far away without my glasses so yeah…my body is now catching up to my age.
I’m on Instagram. That’s pretty much it. I share my life with pictures and short captions. That’s all I’m willing to share.
Without Facebook, I don’t need to see other people’s political agenda. Phew.
Without Twitter, same as Facebook.
Without LinkedIn, no one knows where I work. Thank God.
But I did find a job. It hasn’t been that long yet so I’m not sure if I like it or not. I’ve been duped before about how great the culture is at work, blah blah blah, then it turns out to be a cesspool of shitheads who sweep harassments under the rug and don’t even punish the perpetrators. What fucking gives?! And if you’re the victim, stop crying because they’ll just end up not liking you and come up with a ridiculous lie on why they had to fire you.
However, I was assured by HR at my new job that whatever the old job got away with would never fly at the new place because they have a zero tolerance for that kind of BS.
So yeah, the new place has the best view.
We have an open layout and I thought that would be annoying because I get distracted easily, but it’s not all that bad. Maybe because people there mind their own business and are too busy to fuck with people. They leave me the fuck alone.
I just wish I could get my depression under control. But that’s for another time. Also, I’m never going back to construction. Fool me once.
Am I ever going to stop talking about my depression? Probably not. Why? Because not everyone gets it. Some people I’ve told about my depression don’t believe that I have it because I don’t look or act like it. I’ve mastered the “fake it ’til you make it” routine. On the outside, I look like a normal well-adjusted adult who has it together. On the inside, I’m a jumble of all kinds of shit.
Just to clarify, I didn’t choose to be depressed. I didn’t choose to have anxiety. I’ve been through trauma that will never disappear. I’m always going to carry that with me for the rest of my life. If there was a magic pill to make all that go away, I will not hesitate to take it.
I’ve been considering getting a ketamine treatment. I’m a good candidate for it as my depression is medication resistant. When I take two anti-depressants and an anti-anxiety medication and I still feel like I’m drowning, I’m desperate. I know all about the side effects. But I feel like shit ALL. THE. TIME.
I’m constantly feeling low and I’m cruel to myself. So many times I tell myself how everyone is better off without me because i’m sick and I don’t think I’m ever going to get better. I feel like I’m getting worse. I fear for my life because I wake up every day wondering if this is it…this is the day that I’m going to go off into the deep end again. I mentioned to my husband this morning that I’m falling apart.
I should be relaxing and taking advantage of this downtime considering the mental trauma I just went through at my previous job. But my brain won’t stop running and I can’t sit still. I need to be busy all the time. It’s driving me crazy that I am not being mentally stimulated and challenged. At one point in time, I used to know what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Now, I don’t even know anymore. I’m not really living, just existing. Being unemployed and getting up every morning without anywhere to go is just making my depression worse.
So where am I really going with this? I’m bored out of my mind plus you add on severe anxiety because I’m so unsure of my life right now. Am I ever going to get a job that won’t make me feel like I’m going to get picked on? Am I going to get unemployment? How will my family eat? How do I keep my lights on? Do I need to sell my shit? So many uncertainties and I don’t have any answers. All the while, I’ve got people depending on me and I feel helpless because I don’t have any fucking clue how to fix this shit.