Depression, multiplied and amplified

Oh, yes, it came for me last night. Like a stealthy ninja. One minute I am cooking supper and eating with my kid…Then bam. It was beyond splat. The darkness enveloped my mind. I became cold and shivering. I started feeling fragile and weepy. The creepifying thoughts telling me how everyone is evil and life is futile swept in like a scourge.
Basically, my mental issues were plugged into a stack of Marshall amps.
It. Kicked. My. Ass.
Because I was doing fine. Well, okay, not fine,but I was doing my zombie shamble, getting through another day.

I haven’t had such an abrupt shift into blackness like that in a long while. It’s almost like my brain is mocking me: “You thought that depression of 2013 was as bad as it gets? Ha ha, have I got a treat for you.”

I tried to fight it. I failed.
But it wasn’t difficult to coax my child into going with the vegetate plan. She thinks sleeping in my bed is some sort of winning lottery ticket. And I needed the warm blankies and snuggle and even the cats were burrowing in with us.
I felt like I was drowning in darkness.
I had a migraine making it all worse.
Round and round the cyclone of my mind went. Pointing out ways people are fucking me over. And maybe there’s some truth to it, I do seem to get taken advantage of more than I am comfortable with. But are they really doing it to be purposely cruel or are they just so stupid they don’t even know they’re being ass trash?
My mind has this gift for distorting things, be it in a depressive abyss or a manic episode.
But then again, pms does the same thing to me.
Am I ever in my right mind with all the imbalances going on here?

I reached the end of my tether this week and spent three bucks on a bottle of melatonin. Once she was asleep last night, I cut a 3mg pill in half, because last thing I want is to risk being too zoned out to care for her. And I waited. And the thoughts swirled. And an hour later, they were still swirling. Anxiety was eating me alive. Why wasn’t the stuff making me sleepy?
Then I did doze off.
For three whole hours.
And so I took an entire 3 mg pill, thinking, well if half got me three hours, maybe the whole thing will keep down.

Make a plan, hear the fates laugh.

I woke up so many times, with a new gift. Fits of coughing and not being able to catch my breath because, oh surprise, my daughter was at my mom’s last week and they all have colds and sent my kid home with their petri dish germs to give me.

GRRRRR.
I don’t see how life could get any more frustrating.
Mind you, I didn’t say it couldn’t get worse. Oh, no, I know the answer to that one and I will not tempt the fates even if chances are it is coming for me anyway.

Then after I got my kid to school this morning, after blowing me off for two days on a project I’ve been waiting for him to do for two weeks…R has the nerve to ask me to go fetch him a pack of smokes.
THAT is where my brain gets the idea I am being screwed with.
Ignore me, it’s because you’re busy and I am insignificant.
But when you beckon, I must drop everything.

All I want is a goddamn level playing field. People are just toxic because everything is some sort of power play. There’s no quid pro quo, there’s no consideration or compassion. It’s all just a fallacy where I keep trying to adapt and roll with the punches but the only time I am ever truly content is when…I avoid people.
Ok, call it a personality disorder.
But when your own brain tortures you daily then the people who are supposed to add to your life rather than suck the life out of you make you feel like a hollowed out husk…
Doesn’t take a rocket scientist.
Allergic to peanuts? Don’t eat them.
People make you feel shitty? Avoid them.

I must sound nuts.
I feel like I am losing my mind.
I need to retreat back into my own little bubble and stop trying to be what everyone expects me to be. I can’t be them. I don’t like to socialize. When I need company, I seek it out. Otherwise, I am quite content on my own.
But all the mental health propaganda has me jumping through hoops to prove I am trying my hardest to not give in to my own dysfunction…And instead of helping, I think it’s destroying me.
And maybe if the meds were sorted properly, I might be in a better frame of mind.

I just feel disgusted and pissed off and a little…hopeless.
At once point last night I even had this thought that death would be preferable to living like this day in day out.
That’s the scary place to be.

I thought it might have lifted, cyclothymic shifts and all, by today.
But it’s hanging around, like a noose around my neck.

The rebel in me wants to say fuck depression.
But at the moment, this husk has no fire left to spew venom at anyone or anything.

Someone asked me if it bothered me that I’ve gained so much weight as I’ve aged. And it does to a small extent. But I play the game and say oh, yeah, it bothers me a lot. Because that’s what is expected. I am supposed to feel bad for being heavy. And if I own it before someone can wield it as a weapon…All the better.

Because it would serve no purpose to tell these people the truth. They’re too shallow to get what breaks my heart the most about myself.

I look at old pictures of myself. Ok, I was younger, thinner, prettier…
But mostly, I had this glimmer in my eyes, so full of hope.
And now my eyes are just…hard. Like they’ve seen so much ugliness they’ve hardened to black lumps of coal.
I miss the light that used to be in my eyes.
And no matter how hard I have tried, I can’t seem to get it back.

That bothers me more than aging or gaining weight.
I want the hope back.

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6 Responses to “Depression, multiplied and amplified”

  1. When you get fed up with faking it for people who ask you dumb questions, use Shakespear’s line – tell truth and shame the devil! 😉

    You don’t sound nuts at all – you sound ill and tired and depressed. Hate that ninja darkness … how long do your episodes tend to last?

  2. Well, I rapid cycle so it can be a day or two, maybe a week, then I shift again. The seasonal is what worsens it because it’s five, six months of the year of being perpetually low without any real manic episodes or even uppish periods. This is why the doctors here seem so baffled. I don’t fit into a neat book category. I rapid cycle, mostly depression, but also manic bouts. But it doesn’t follow the patterns in the diagnostic manual, it cycles too rapidly, so I don’t think they have a clue what to do with me.
    I had such an amazing doctor once and I was getting so much better under her care. She served her two years in this hell hole and since, it’s been a revolving door of doctors on a television screen who spend five minutes with me. I am honestly losing hope I will ever get the help I need. I don’t want to give up but short of winning the lottery so I can pay for a real doctor…It doesn’t look good.
    Keep calm, carry on, kill zombies and pelt stupid people with Skittles, I guess.

  3. It sounds nuts. It is. Those demons suck. They are real. That anxiety, that pounding in your chest, those sleepless nights, it’s all so real. That bubble we want to retreat into? Doesn’t exist. Our demons are in there with us. I wish you hope. Even a sliver of it. Something to make to feel a tad better.

    • I don’t know if it’s making me feel better or proving I’ve finally gone insane…But my kid is huge on Frozen and I thought that Let It Go song was going to make me poke my eyes out with bbq skewers. Well, I found a heavy metal version that’s kind of infected me… Mother and daughter headbanging. Worth a smirk if nothing else.

      On Fri, Mar 6, 2015 at 9:31 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

  4. And I know it’s easier to wish another hope than see it oneself……

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