Waiting for today...: Waiting: Where I Am

Saturday, September 20

Waiting: Where I Am

As of August 13th, I have been depressed.  A month prior I struggled to gain balance and keep the stress of prioritizing to a minimum.  I went from taking it one day at a time, doing what I could and praising every effort to worrying about what wasn’t being done, allowing it to overwhelm and paralyze me.   In early August, I was a social busybody:  two ceremonies in which I was active in helping either to set up or clean up, lunch dates and going here to there for friendly home visits.  My body soon began to ache, my mind fatigue.  Even after a few quiet days to myself I never quite recovered.
Wednesday…  I was off and all I wanted to do was lounge.  With two appointments in the afternoon and bible study in the evening, I shouldn’t have.  That made me sour. After my back-to-back early afternoon appointments, I couldn’t bring myself to venture out that evening for bible study.  I tried not to panic.  After all, there were a few blue days in May and I recovered after some downtime.  I decided I would give it a week before moving up my therapy appointment.
The following Monday… irritability found me.  The fatigue and exhaustion worsened.  My mind raced with negative thoughts, unable to concentrate on even menial tasks.   Work became the bane of my existence once again and I tried to avoid people as often as possible.
By early Tuesday… I was on the phone trying to secure an appointment with my therapist.  Thankfully there was an opening later that day.  Up until then, I had only been seeing her once per month.  There was no need to see her more often since my depression lifted.  My mood had been stable for five months and I was consistently working through my issues.  Foolishly, I wasn’t prepared for another mood swing.
Finally succombing to the reality of an impending medication adjustment, I had to wait an entire two weeks before I could see my psychiatrist.  In the interim, I decided to increase the Celexa myself from 20 mg to 30 mg.  It was the better and least impulsive decision I could’ve made at that time.  My psychiatrist was going to increase it to 40mg anyway.  Which she did.
So now… I’m waiting, waiting for the apathy, irritability and feelings of worthlessness to escape me.   I’m having to put all the energy that I can muster into putting on “the face” as to not alert my colleagues to my inner turmoil.  I can’t lose my job, or my hours.  But, dreading those twelve hour days, I long to just return home… to my bed, or shall I say sofa.  

The features of this episode are mostly typical of any other episode:
  • indifference to my income, my expenses and my diet
  • the sofa is my bed, because that’s where my TV is
  • the TV is my closest companion… it helps take my mind off my mood
  • people, not so much… people annoy and irritate me so, I isolate
  • my treks away from home are on a “need-to-basis”
  • piles of dirty dishes, dirty laundry, mail and trash bags make up the d├ęcor of my living space
On the other hand, although I went about a month without washing my hair, I have not gone more than three days without taking a shower.  Usually a hypersomniac, there was a week or two in which I had a bit of insomnia.  I’m also less angry.  And finally, I don’t feel out of control.  I guess I am more accepting that this is what has to be right now.  Maybe even hopeful that relief will soon come.

Until this depression lifts, everything else is a moot point…