Nutty Ramblings
My depression moves in waves. One day I’m kind of okay, I’m feeling a bit of hope, a little more energy. The next… I’m suddenly spiraling out of control again. The worst part is that during those times, I feel so agitated and irritable that I don’t think I’m ever going to feel good again. It’s a really crappy spot to be stuck in. The tough times last longer than the good ones.
The last four days have been like that, and I’ve finally started to feel on the upside of the slope since this evening. Much to James’ relief.
I’ve been living in this constant fear of those “down times”.
How long do I have to feel more “normal” before I’m at the bottom of the wave again? Sometimes I can feel it happen- when the good mood (although I’d hardly call it very good) slips away like silken webs. I start desperately grasping onto it, but my fingers just can’t grip it. Other times, a sudden trigger turns my world dark in just moments.
The last trigger I remember was being put in the spotlight at the support group on Wednesday. Thursday was crap. Friday I had to up my dose of Prozac to what is now going to be my regular dosage. I hit rock bottom sometime last night.
I went to bed, feeling irritated that James was totally chill reading next to me. One would think it was his Playboy that was pissing me off, but no. It was just the fact that he was able to relax. By all means, get a boner staring at other (hotter) naked chicks who are probably barely legal, but BY GOD, don’t relax unless you want me to rip you a new one! Yes, the woody probability didn’t even cross my mind. And even if it had, it most likely still wouldn’t have bothered me. That’s how blank I’ve been these days.
Okay, back to my point.
I was exhausted, but feeling antsy. Finally, I asked him (okay, demanded or else) to turn the light out. Once it was dark, I instantly felt like I was thrown onto one of those spinning fairground rides. It was drunk spins without the blissful wine buzz. So I started having trouble remembering to breathe. And before I knew it, I was panicking without the usual anxiety welling up in me. I just felt nauseated instead. I’m sure I have the Prozac to thank for that.
James did his best to calm me down in between his peaceful but annoying snort-awakes.
*SNORT* “It’s okay honey, just breathe…” deep breathing from his end. *Teeth click* (an annoying reflex he has as he’s falling asleep). Click click.
I spent the next hour or so staring, petrified, at the dim light filtering in through the blinds. At some point, I fell asleep, only to be woken half a dozen times by Julie, who suddenly decided to revert back to newborn sleep patterns just to piss us off last night.
And then it was morning, and the sun coming in through my window agitated me off more than I want to admit. Will someone please tell the sun that it’s not time to get up yet?? Unfortunately, it was definitely the start to a complete and utter meltdown sometime after I drank my usual lethal dose of caffeine.
Suddenly, I was feeling lethargic and miserable, but crazy antsy at the same time. It was a horrible feeling. James thinks I was having an anxiety attack, but it felt different than usual (thanks to my new meds, I’m guessing). This lasted for hours. Seriously, hours. I thought it would never end.
Finally, though, the fog lifted a bit, and I was able to calm down. I even felt warm and fuzzy with James, much to his complete relief.
Poor guy. He puts me through my own share of hell, but how he puts up with my insane ass… I’ll never know.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that tomorrow is a GOOD day.