Waiting for today...: Again & Again: Where I Am, Part 2

"In plain English, stress early in life makes us more vulnerable to stress la...

"In plain English, stress early in life makes us more vulnerable to stress later in life. The evidence for this can be seen in multiple physiological an... - Nyawela Gianna - Google+

Wednesday, September 16

Again & Again: Where I Am, Part 2


con’t from …Part 1


In effort to rid the world of a bit more ignorance, I dejected my emotionalism as best I could and chose to share more facts.  Namely that there is a misconception of what self-esteem is and of course I gave examples of low, healthy and high self-esteem as well as how parents contribute to them all.


What I didn’t expect was a response from my mom.  A response that would immediately make me question, even regret sharing my thoughts in the first place.  But then I said “no”.  Facts are facts no matter how uncomfortable they make people feel.  And I refused to betray myself by recanting my statements.  Wouldn’t I be contributing to mental health illiteracy if I did?  I’m only raising awareness; it’s the least I can do.   


But I did understand her point of view.  When we spoke again, I broached the topic first by avoiding conjecture and then by offering clarification.  And in that moment, I made a decision.  These days, I want to include my mom in everything.  Vulnerability is sign of trust.  Trust moves relationships forward and helps to sustain them.  Yet, if the tradeoff is tearing open her wounds then it’s best that I do not volunteer as much as I have.  And I’m okay with that.


... faith

Some time ago, well before this breakthrough depression, I was feeling so frustrated about my faith walk.  I concluded that it was because it was time for a growth spurt; I needed to draw even closer to God, step up my discipleship.  And I thought that was what I began to do, mainly by throwing myself into deeper study.  But then I fell into darkness and my light was snuffed out.  


What’s worse?  My mal-adaptive coping has me feeling like a hypocrite.


hypocrite
[hip-uh-krit] /ˈhɪp ə krɪt/
noun
1.   a person who pretends to have virtues, moral or religious beliefs, principles, etc.,
    that he or she does not actually possess, especially a person whose actions belie
    stated beliefs.
2.   a person who feigns some desirable or publicly approved attitude, especially
    one whose private life, opinions, or statements belie his or her public statements.


When a person drinks of and is refreshed by the living water that only Jesus Christ can give, they shout from their roof tops for all to come and drink.  There was no pretending. At every moment I was sincere! But the person I become when in the deepest and darkest pit of depression betrays the person I became when I publically chose to follow Christ; when I first drank of that water.     


“For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’” ~ Luke 14:28-30


I can't bear to say more right now…


… career

Boss lady recently asked me how my studying for the mandatory certification exam was going.  It took everything for me to not burst into hysterical laughter.   In hopes that she would understand the reality of depression, I admitted that I could barely shower much less even think about studying for anything.  Once my mood stabilizes I’ll get back to it… or I’ll sabotage myself and be forced to seek employment elsewhere in the system.  Typical me.  At this point I couldn’t care less.


Just like going into work each day while I’m depressed… don’t care.  I’ve called out a few times during this episode.  Didn’t care.  I’ve also asked to leave early.  Meh.  These long days feel so much longer and I reach max tolerance for the workflow, the people and the surprise consults in the early afternoon.  In a twelve hour day I probably “work” half of those hours. The rest of the time, I’m shooting the shit: internet surfing, watching videos on my phone, writing… anything else I can do except work.   It’s stealing really.  No thanks to my psychiatrist who refused to complete the paperwork for temporary leave.


On the bright side we finally have three nurse case managers to cover the ER. That means I no longer have to work every other weekend or an additional shift every two weeks.  Doesn’t seem like much but I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.


… conclusion

#DepressionSucks