Depression: How I Want To Feel Versus How I Really Feel

It has not escaped me that this blog has become a major downer and yes, I am aware many must think, “Does she ever do anything but complain or beg for donations?” I can tell by my views, likes, and lack of comments for the most part that I have lost people’s interest and that saddens me. Because I am having a tough time now financially and I am reaching out but only because I am about to get my power turned off due to the dual billing caused by the move and my fund availability coming after the due date. And I have given them every cent I have to apply toward it, but unfortunately, it doesn’t change anything. I haven’t had a disconnect notice in seven years, this is a tough bitter pill to swallow. It is, however, my reality and in spite of my misanthropy…there is a smidge of hope inside that some kind person might understand the predicament my daughter and I are in and help out. Seven years of keeping the power bill paid, obviously this is an isolated incident not born of my own choice or any wrong doing.

Having said that cos well, to quote TLC, “I ain’t too proud to beg…”

So, yeah, the fact that this blog has become Downerpalooza and Complaint Central…I thought it being a mental health blog focusing on bipolar depression and anxiety that the perception would be of the disorders and how they alter thought patterns as opposed to it becoming my entire personality and identity to never be happy and complain incessantly. That was never the intent but in all fairness, I was ambushed with a lot of bad stuff right after another and am faced with so much change, and I fail miserably at change. Even without my wonky brain chemicals, I’d say my emotions of frustration, anxiety, and depression are pretty valid.

The other thing is…NO ONE CHOOSES TO BE DEPRESSED OR ANXIOUS. That is why we are diagnosed with disorders. When those disorders take over every faction of your life, perhaps the rare good things that do happen get lost in the chaos. I am not inherently a miserably whiny person. If anything, I am rebellious fighter and I fight my own mind with everything I’ve got. But it’s that same mind that is beating me up and causing me to feel things more deeply and in a more negative light. Trying to convince myself otherwise is like putting a band-aid on a gunshot wound. I do try, but it is not effective.

What I want to feel…I want to feel JOY. My daughter and I are getting a fresh start here. This is our first house, we spent 9 years in a ramshackle trailer with a landlord who never wanted to spend a dime to fix anything. Now we have a decent (if old) place where everything works and is in decent shape and the new landlord busted his butt getting the pipework fixed when he learned the previous tenants destroyed it all by using a blowtorch in an effort to thaw frozen winter pipes. This a huge step up for us. We got to keep our cats.

We have a better car now, an ’01 Lumina, and it runs great. It’s the newest car I’ve ever owned, and it’s paid for, no loan, though I do owe my father since he bought it and I’d almost rather owe some guy named Guido who would just break my kneecaps instead of using the debt to control my every thought and action…Being in debt to my dad for $1400 means he’s up in my business, telling me when I can make trips to town, etc. Not that I listen to him since it’s in my name and I pay insurance on it, but still…he’s so far up my ass he may as well be an enema. Still…he cared enough to replace my DOA car so can I really complain?

I am TRYING to view things positively.

The depression, however, puts a dozen spotlights on every negative aspect. It amplifies every anxiety. It quashes hope for the future. It convinces me the new doc is so busy and apathetic toward me, I am doomed. (That one may be accurate, just sayin’, my experience with shrinks has been horrid.) The depression is a dark cloud over head, always raining and gloomy even when it’s warm and sunny outside. I could win the lottery and my mind state would be, “Great, now I gotta pay taxes on it.” It doesn’t matter how accurate the emotions are or how silly they might be. They are there, they are real. I can choose to take them with a grain of salt when my mind is strong enough to do battle but sometimes…it just is not.

The ‘sundowning’ part of the depression really has me feeling low. The one plus is that it used to happen around 5 p.m., now the mood crash doesn’t happen til 8 p.m. or so. It results in me feeling so exhausted (if you met my child, you’d understand why I am tapped out by 8) I am in bed by ten p.m. Because it takes awhile to nod off and the sooner I start my toss and turn and counting backwards from 1000 in odd numbers ritual…I might be asleep by 11 p.m. I used to run on 4 hours sleep over a 2 day period. Now the days seems so long and grueling (even when nothing bad happens) sleep seems to be my only escape.

Does anyone really think that’s how I want to feel?

I’ve lived manic episodes and minus the poor impulsive choices…I WOULD KILL TO FEEL THE ENERGY AND OUTLOOK OF MANIA EVERY SINGLE DAY.

I hate feeling down, hate feeling strung enough on anxiety, hate living in red alert mode.

The fact that I keep trying has to count for something. I am trying. So very hard.

Just remember when you read this blog…my disorders, and their ensuing mind frames and emotions, do not define my personality or me as a person. Under all that bleakness…there’s a feisty sarcastic woman who wants to shed the depressive skin, start slathering on black eyeliner again, and view life as a gift, not a curse.

But…that’s the rub. What I want to feel versus what depression makes me feel.

2 Responses to “Depression: How I Want To Feel Versus How I Really Feel”

  1. Previously dealing with depression myself and finally getting my husband to get diagnosed as manic this year, I’m well aware of what a struggle it is. In MY experience, finally getting on the right medications (and for me, being more involved in my faith) I saw improvements. There’s a light and I’m praying for you and your girl!

  2. I love your blog. Love your sarcasm and I relate to much to your struggles. I’m so happy to read you and your girly moved into the new place and it’s not as bad as you thought! The bright side. Also…the cats could come!!!!! Yessssss!

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