I’m depressed

yes, it’s a bold, no bullshit title but it’s true.

The past month has been filled with the highest highs and lowest lows for many facets of my family and myself. There have, in fact, been multiple times where my husband and I just look at each other and laugh because we don’t have the emotional capacity to react in any other way… and now I’m at a point where the slightest thing can set me into a spiral of incessant negativity.
It’s like a fade filter has been applied to my reality and everything is getting more and more blurry and distorted. There’s a constant, uncomfortably wet, film coating my eyes, making them feel heavy and irritated. I feel like I’m constantly battling a headache that hasn’t quite arrived yet and I am barely functioning enough to comprehend how to handle tasks in my personal and work life.
Basically, I’m a mess.
And that’s it.
There are no pretty words for me to say to end this off… nothing inspirational or outwardly positive. And you know what? That’s okay.

Now I’m going to go to 7/11 and get myself a large cookies and cream mocha, put on some sweatpants and lay on my couch until I fall asleep.

self care

I’ve been in a bit of a depressive episode – waking up with headaches, constant nightmares, obsessively picking my skin and just generally not taking care of myself. I’m not outwardly depressed… I’m still having conversations, I’m going through my work days in stride, I’m streaming regularly, and I probably come off as completely normal to most people but I’m just not… and I can’t explain it.
I kind of just want to lay in bed, cover myself in 10 pounds of blankets and sleep until I don’t want to sleep anymore. I’ve started developing stress and anxiety hives/rashes again, which hasn’t happened in a few years now. I’ve caught myself craving old, self destructive habits that seem archaic and extraneous. I am constantly irritated by everything and everyone, while simultaneously giving zero fucks about anything.
So, starting last night I am on a 4 day self care mission, I have so many things coming up, in my professional and personal life, that I just can’t be down and out like this any longer.
The headaches need to stop. I need to get some real sleep. I need my body to relax as well as my mind. I need to look at myself and be okay. And not this “okay” mask I’ve been sporting, really, actually okay.

One year later…

Exactly a year ago today I made this blog public. It was an extremely large step for me, to be completely open about everything that rattles about in this skull of mine.
I’ve been writing less frequently lately, and I take that as a good thing. It means that I am making positive progress in my own mental health journey and I can definitely thank this blog for a part of that progress! Reading my own words was extremely eye opening – it showed me how I viewed myself and how I reacted to my brain and my body. It illuminated the dark parts of my life, whether it be past or present, and forced me to face them head on. It started conversations with other people I never would have had prior.
It started conversations.
I think that is the part that has stuck with me the most – talking with people myself, seeing other people talk with each other through threads and posts, feeling unashamed of what I can’t change and relating to others in a way that had rarely happened before.
Bell Let’s Talk Day 2017 is the day I decided to open up, and Bell Let’s Talk Day 2018 is right around the corner (January 31st), so I encourage you to join the conversation – you’d be surprised at how much good can be done, and the ripple effect that can occur, from a single voice.

 

I’m depressed, but I’m okay.

Winter is here, which means seasonal depression has officially settled in to it’s cozy holiday home at the front of my psyche. It was certainly jump started, a couple of weeks ago, by my own ignorance of small town health care (apparently walk in doctors do not exist) which had me accidentally withdrawing from my anti depressant – an experience I do not recommend for anyone. So far, I’ve gotten two tattoos and have buried myself in hobbies to try and combat the oncoming storm… and so far it’s going okay. I’m still depressed – there are multiple points in the day where I could cry, without reason – my sleep schedule is hectic at best – I am reliving conversations I’ve had throughout the year and berating myself for how I handled them – I am convinced that most people don’t like me, for one reason or another, and feel isolated in my relationships – but I am handling it on my own, and I guess that’s a start.

I’ve been thinking about going back to therapy. I believe being on medication has truly helped me get to a point with my anxiety where I can segregate what is making me feel anxious, and address it within myself. I have not gotten to that point with my depression – and while I may be okay, I could be and want to be, better. I’m hoping therapy will help provide me the tools I need to build myself up in times when I instinctually tear myself down. What made me really realize I wanted to go back was actually seeing a few people, whom I really look up to, talk about mental health on a livestream. It just goes to show that one open conversation about someone’s struggles can help shed light on another person’s path.
Patrick, Matt and Holly – thank you for being honest with those who look up to you and for helping me realize what next steps I need to take in my own mental health journey. I’m sure I would’ve gotten to it eventually, but sometimes even I need to be reminded that it’s okay to need professional help.
So, yes, I am depressed… but I’m okay, and am working on being better, the best I can.

On Emetophobia, Crohn’s and Striving for Health

I know this is, currently, a common theme in my writing, but it is the most immediate stressor in my environment these days – especially now that I’m working to try and get better.

I write this as I am sitting on my bathroom floor, after going to the gym for the first time in months. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to go to the gym, it’s more that I don’t trust my body in most situations… never mind a public situation, involving physical activity. My health has been a roller coaster ride at the best of times, but I’ve been doing my best to regulate it. I am frequently on white rice and broth diets to reset my digestion whenever I flare up, I’m seeing a kinesiologist who has me on a couple of supplements that seem to be helping – it’s a slow process, but I’m getting there – and now I’ve made the decision to start going to the gym.

You see, I want SO BADLY to be healthy. I want to be able to go to social events, eat food I enjoy, work out in public spaces, hang out with friends, without the constant nausea that accompanies me in all of those situations. Scratch that, in all situations. I would also like to be able to handle those situations without the crippling fear and embarrassment, that accompanies the nausea, that truly makes it worse. I’ve written about my fear of vomiting before, it is something I’ve been dealing with for as long as I can remember, and is, honestly, as debilitating as the initial pre-puke sweats and mouth watering that puts my brain there in the first place. Having a condition that amplifies my nausea, pain, and just overall “gross” feelings is truly the icing on a, quite literally, shitty cake. But, the last month has shown me snippets of what it is like to live normally and semi healthily, and those moments make me indescribably happy. The problem with those moments, is I let myself believe that I’m better, and push past my boundaries… which puts me right here, again, on the bathroom floor. It’s a real punch to morale to feel like you are right back at square one because of a single meal or because you are taking your first step to becoming more physically healthy.

The upside in this whole scene is that I’m still trying. I’m committed to the idea of me being able to live a, somewhat, normal life – no matter how terrible I feel throughout the steps to getting there. I am more determined than I have ever been to fight through all of this, despite how negative I might seem at times. I did something that I have been pushing aside, for a long time now, today… and I felt like shit afterwards. But I did it, and I plan on doing it again tomorrow and for the foreseeable future (I’ve also paid for a month’s membership, so, you know, I have no excuse to not get my butt to the gym) which will *hopefully* help create the end goal of a happier and healthier me.

There are definitely underlying self esteem and dissociation issues when it comes to feeling sick most, if not all, of the time. Things have gotten better since leaving the stressful environment of the city, I know this – but, in some ways, it’s also gotten much worse.
In Vancouver, I could pop in and out of my head with no problem, this isn’t a healthy way to cope by any means, but it worked. The moment I started feeling sick, my auto pilot would kick in, it was the only way I could deal with the pain and nausea without having full blown panic attacks (unless I was in public, if I was in public I was screwed). While I was always trying to get better, I didn’t really have the mind set to fully commit to what it took, probably because I was less than half there during my episodes and making it through the next 4-8 hours on the bathroom floor was the only goal in mind.
Now it’s different. The city noise has quieted, I am able to stay present and focused… but I can’t remove myself from the illness anymore, Crohn’s or whatever it is. My bad nights, while lessened, involve so much more panic and fear than I’ve been used to. I’ve been working hard to get better, I’m trying new methods and working with new people to sort this out, but it all just seems so impossible. I feel like I’m, single handedly, trying to destroy a mountain with a pickaxe… every once and a while someone will drive by, roll down their window and shout some sage advice at me, but it’s always short lived – they get sick of my unwillingness to listen or to try. They forget that I am one person who is already trying as hard as she can, who is so tuned in to the sound of her pick hitting stone that some words are hard to hear and, a lot of the time, the words picked up will be misconstrued and warped because she is so tired of the entire thing.

I guess I can recognize this as some sort of plea to those around me and to myself… I’m doing the best I can, I’m completely reseting my insides, please be patient.

insomnia

I’ve been laying in bed, remembering conversations that I can never change… in most cases I wish I would’ve stood up for myself a little more. The more I think about all of these times I let myself down, the deeper I sink.
I read an article today that suggested I “pretend my feelings are light as a feather” – but that seems impossible when these feelings are so deep rooted in to my psyche, they’ve made homes in my bones, built bridges across my neural pathways to ensure my reason and sensibility don’t get in the way.
It’s odd, feeling like you are hellbent on your own destruction, whether or not that is something you actually want for yourself. The part of my brain that knows this is all temporary is just asking for some quiet, a moment to refashion it’s grip on the system and ride out the angry bull. But the bull is already bucking and kicking, it won’t stop until all of it’s resources are exhausted and it collapses, or until it caves in the skull of it’s rider, giving it free reign to trample everything else in it’s path.
I am both. So either way, I lose.

 

sorry about the nonsensical rambling – just needed to get it off my chest.