Tag Archives: depression

Yeah… I can’t even…


Not today.

All I feel like doing today is going back to bed, pulling up the covers, and pretending that the world does not exist.

I’ll hopefully be back on Monday.

The unexpected wave


Have you ever been going about your day and then depression just hits you like a wave, sweeps you off your feet, and causes you to feel as if you’re being dragged down, and you know you have to fight it because you can’t just collapse at your desk, so you keep struggling and grinding ahead with your day because you have to, not because you want to?

(I’m in treatment for it and anxiety and I have a lot more good days since I started, but somedays it still ambushes me.)

Insomnia


2:30 am.

Haven’t slept. Thinking about the future. Sick to my stomach.

Anxiety or bad food? Heartburn or heart attack? Guess we’ll see which if I wake up or not.

Fuck.

Kids are sleeping. Peaceful. Happy.

Awake. Thinking of their future. Too many worst case scenarios to think of. I hope they’re never like this. Awake at 2:40 worrying. That my issues don’t screw them up. Anxiety that I already have.

Never peace. Only moments of less anxiety.

Close my eyes. Try to sleep. Seems like forever. Clock says it was 5 minutes.

Fuck.

Hope I don’t fall asleep at work. Heart beating fast now.

Probably anxiety. Always anxiety.

Fuck.

Try to fall asleep. Rest.

Feeling sick again. Morning comes too quickly. Still…awake.

Fuck.

Monday fun


Depression, anxiety, semi-compulsive thoughts about death and loss, acid reflux, a pervasive feeling that I’m doing a horrible job at work and raising my children, and a brain that seems to jump automatically to ‘worst-case scenario’ mode as the most likely scenario to happen.

Just another Monday. Weeeeeee!

(And no, it wasn’t any easier when I was self-medicating with alcohol. I still had all of those issues, plus an added anxiety that I was becoming an addict and would end up drinking myself to an early death.)

(Aslo no, it wasn’t any easier when I was a religious fundamentalist, except then I also had the pervasive fear that God hated me and was going to torture me forever because of thought crimes.)

Just something I have to deal with day to day. Keep moving forward.

Unloading more personal baggage…


This is my second day of being a teetotaler or sobriety. I’m not sure which term to use, since I’m not sure the previous year of self-medication with alcohol for my anxiety and depression makes me an actual alcoholic who needs to go to meetings or a guy who realized that he was diving into some unhealthy behavior to mask untreated psychological problems and now that he realizes that is dedicated to making positive changes in his life. I

mean, I don’t have horror stories to share. Just that I went from a social drinker and someone who enjoyed a nice wine with a nice meal to someone drinking 2-6 drinks a night.

Anyway, special thanks to the doctor I saw in the hospital who was very patient and let me know that I probably wasn’t physically dependent and didn’t need to worry about the physiological effects of withdrawl if I quit cold turkey. I appreciate the peace of mind. And I definitely appreciate waking up with less anxiety and feeling dehydrated and stiff. Oh well. I’m in treatment now for the depression and anxiety so hopefully feeling happier and healthier will help me let go of something that was becoming a dangerous crutch.

So, there you go. If you wanted an insight into some of my character flaws, there’s a big one. But I feel better being honest about it.

Reflections after a panic attack


There are moments in your life where it’s natural to pause and reconsider your life. I’m turning 40 this year. And I just had what I thought was a heart attack that turned out to be a panic attack. I’m not unconvinced that the two were unrelated.

Mortality was never something I thought about until I got a call one day about my grandfather dropping dead of a heart attack. One moment he was here, smiling, friendly, the great man I had always loved. The next, he was gone from my life. I’d never get to travel up north for the holidays to see him again. I’d never get to call him and talk. I’d never get to introduce him to his great-grandchildren.

Christ’s statement that He is our resurrection and our life and that no one who believes in Him truly dies is a comfort, but it doesn’t change any of the above.

And it made me reflect, okay obsess, on the fragility of life and how quickly things can change from one moment to the next.

Now, my own ‘emergency’ was my body responding to years of my own mind keeping those fears to myself.

So I found myself in the hospital not quite knowing what was happening to me, but knowing it was bad.

It wasn’t.

I got out with a clean bill of health. Oh, I need to start taking anti-anxiety medication and they’re giving me a beta blocker to help regulate my heart beat which they assume is elevated because of the tricks my mind is playing on my body. But there’s nothing wrong with my heart at least from four EKGs, two ultrasounds, three blood tests, and a stress test.

So now, here I am, reassessing my life. Having my mid-life crisis, I guess.

Things need to change because if I had been facing heart surgery and the risk of death, I’m not sure I’m in the place I want to be when I head off to meet my maker, not out of fear this time, but out of a realistic self-assessment. I’ve got stuff to do and time’s wasting.

Anyway, I’ll post more later.

Blah


I can’t write anything today worth writing.

Depression sucks.

I’ll post something later if I find anything that interests me or, more likely, enrages me enough to break through my writer’s block and melancholy.

Getting back up again…


Ever have a weekend when you feel like a complete and utter failure on every level? That was my weekend.

But life goes on and I don’t have the luxury to stay down and wallow in guilt. So there’s nothing to do but get back up again, dust myself off, and try again today, I suppose.