The last few days for me have been awful. Worse than 'normal' awful. This blog post will be a journaling experience for me since I know this is one thing I'm supposed to do. It will have nothing to do with truck grills although that makes me think of Love Bug season in Florida and what a mess those squished bugs can make.
I am at the point where I almost cannot function. I've been bouncing from thing to thing thinking if I JUST find something to DO then I'll feel better. I've tried latch hook again, needlepoint, a jigsaw puzzle, a PS2 game. I have trouble understanding/comprehending directions for the projects I've attempted. I look at them and I draw a blank. Or I see that's it's too hard for me. These are things I had no trouble with in the past.
My anxiety level has been high since we started packing for the move, but all signs point to the fact that I am now in deep depression. I know somewhere there's a list of the top ten life stressors. Death of a spouse or child is one. Losing your job is one. There's two more I don't remember, then there's moving. So I guess taking someone who's already on shaky ground and having them move may not have been the best idea in hindsight.
That's not true. I know I'll work through this. Eventually. I'm beginning to think part of that time will be spent in a psychiatric hospital. The pull to admit myself to one is stronger and stronger. The thing that keeps me at home (so far) is that I'm not suicidal. I'm not even self-destructive right now. I'm just going nuckin' futz.
I cry at the drop of a hat for no reason whatsoever. Prolonged boo-hoo crying. And that is such a weird to do if you've never done it. Just be washing dishes or walking to a different room and then BAM! A sadness sweeps over you and you have to cry. A cry like you lost your best friend kind of cry. (I'm assuming that because I don't have any friends to begin with.)
Mr. Skittles is at a loss. I think he's a bit afraid as well. He's seen my downward spirals before and knows what it can be like. The nice thing is he knows this isn't something I'm choosing to do. He knows it's part of my mental health issues.
I thought I had a med review with my psychiatrist tomorrow but they usually call to remind me and I never got a call on Friday. The card with the appointment is who knows where. I think I should call the office in the morning to ask about it and maybe ask to be seen sooner if it's not close.
My anxiety and panic issues are somewhat easy to accommodate and work around. I can avoid the things that trigger them most of the time. There is nothing I can do or not do to make this depression better. It needs medication. A higher dose than what I'm on now or something new. I need to hang on until I get it.
Oh and I've said this before but it might bear repeating now.. My ability to articulate my problems has often been detrimental to me receiving proper (or at times, urgent) psychiatric help. Sometimes I wonder if you have to be a blubbering idiot to get noticed. I DO have in my favor the fact that I can also be quite persistent when requesting help. Descriptive and persistent are a nice team.
I'll keep taking my meds and see what tomorrow brings.