Tag Archives: Depression

Every Day is Halloween

I have to wear a mask every day. Sometimes as an actor, sometimes as disguise. Sometimes I’m not wearing one, but playing a role that’s expected of me.  Sometimes it feels natural, who I am. Other times, I’m simply trick or treating.

Why am I here? I ask God and I never really get an answer. I get told I have purpose. I get told I will find my purpose. I get told when I’m on the right path, or on the wrong. But never why I’m here.

Another shitty day. I almost overslept. Rocket (my dog) was kind enough to be excited about the prospect of getting out of my room, that she jumped up on my bed, forcing me to wake up. Despite her excitement, I was running late and could not even let her out. I had to lead her to her crate and pretend not to be upset and ask her to be good and give her a toy that she won’t do anything with all day because she’s so upset. And I close it up telling myself I will find a way to let her still be a dog and not leave my life.  That seems more unlikely by the hour. It’s not right to keep her at this point.

I get to school, somehow safely despite my eyes going out of focus a handful of times and struggling to not drift off. I fall asleep in my car pretty much as soon as I put it in park. 20 minutes later, I’m running later than I’d like for class. I hop out of the car entirely too groggy, and lock my door and shut it to only realize I locked my keys inside. I was seized by an incredible amount of anxiety but couldn’t address it then, needed to get to class.

No idea why I bothered showing up for class though. I fell asleep through the entire thing. Even the quiz. I get a zero on a quiz I was present for. But somehow I can’t be treated for a sleeping disorder I’ve been trying to address for years, because specialists have to determine that I’m not lying I guess. Who wants the embarrassment of falling asleep in public places or falling out of your chair or getting to ride the bus for a full loop because you nodded off for more than a minute?

But I guess in theory I’m lying. Have been lying for 10+ years. I guess I like to keep lying to just get a chance at drugs or something? If I wanted drugs that bad, I would find a dealer. Hell, maybe I should. Doctors sure as Hell don’t seem to be doing much good. I’m getting failing grades because I fall asleep during quizzes, tests, and general lectures. What chance do I have if this is not addressed?

I first started trying to address my weird issues with insomnia in a serious fashion my first trip to the mental hospital. They doctors looked at me like I spit out a cockroach and eagerly dismissed my symptoms. But the symptoms haven’t gone away. Not even a bit. And everything feels like it’s conspiring to make me really fail out of college this time.

Then some good news, I get a voicemail that I was finally referred to a doc and an appointment set for March 6th. Thank God. Then, on top of that, I didn’t actually lock myself out of the car, because the passenger door was left unlocked (though it shouldn’t be). Then I fell asleep for a few in my car, relieved. Made it to my psychologist office and slept some more. This is around 3pm at this point. Then some more shitty stuff happens, delaying my return home and unburdening Rocket, while also costing some money.

Then I finally get home, getting ready to spend time with my fiance. And my roommate/landlord/cousin tells me we need to have chat. And it’s only a few things he says that make me realize how truly a shitty person I am. He tells me I’ve taken advantage of his family. I’ve allowed them to house me and pay for my insurance briefly without keeping my word to them. A brief flicker of anger reminded me how they treated my mom and me when she was still around. Like I was finally getting something from them. That died pretty quickly though, because that’s not who I am. I didn’t keep my word. And that’s shitty. And now I really need to get rid of my dog. Also very shitty.

For the first time in a while I was reminded of being in similar situations. When eyes would turn off me, I would hurt myself. I stabbed my hand. I intentionally fell down stairs. I overdosed on meds. I punched a wall. My cousin left for just a couple minutes and all I could do was suppress the urge to drive the nearby by screwdriver into my gut. Then I realized that was stupid, I wouldn’t get enough force, it should go for my leg instead. An odd immediate reaction. I would have hoped I saw how fruitless that was and wished it away instantly instead of that. I resisted. I didn’t dwell on that particular urge for more than a couple seconds. Punching the wall occurred to me, but no that wouldn’t do because it would cost my cousin money, instead I could just slam my head into my desk until I felt only a headache. Disappointed again my reflexes to my impulses, I suppressed this too.

Then I recalled when I overdosed. It didn’t seem that bad. It wasn’t a hard thing to do. If I did that then my family would have to lay off me. No. That’s not right. Then that made me feel more shitty for even jokingly considering suicide attempt and death risk as an effort to manipulate my family. What really is wrong with me? I don’t always know when I’m wearing the mask and when the mask is wearing me. Right now though, I don’t like me. I want out of this skin. It feels surreal, being this angry at yourself. Like your brain doesn’t even know how to process much else. There’s enough rationality to not do stupid things, but you suddenly feel like a passenger instead of the one in control. Maybe control will never be complete or real. Maybe it’s just a really bad day. Maybe I’m an awful person and I frequently will myself to forget that. Whatever the case, I’m exhausted, but now know I can’t sleep. I’m eager for today to end even though I will have the same problems tomorrow. Maybe I just want to turn everything off right now and reboot. I wish it were that easy.

It’s Been a While

Why am I even here? I just as soon slink into non-existence if I could.

Depression. It always seems to find me right around this time of year. Sure, before I was on a less than working treatment. But it still hits hard, like a slugger deciding it’s a homerun or bust.  My mom died a year ago. A year and two days really. Again. It was on her birthday. Facebook made sure I couldn’t forget that.  It hurt. I don’t want something to remind me to wish her happy birthday, she’s fucking dead.

But what do you do? I grimaced. I was getting ready for school, I couldn’t falter that early in the day. That was two days ago. I also accidentally stumbled on my text thread with her on my phone. A lot of “Thanks mom”. She would write awkward reminders to tell me to do something or that a package arrived. “Thanks mom”.

But when she was here, we were constantly fighting. I tried to justify a lot of it. Some of it was valid, sure, but me and her were both broken. Especially when February came around. Because that’s also when my dad had his accident. I miss him too. Now he’s actually dead and I am actually relieved in that respect. I think I fucked up my childhood somewhere. I can’t see stuffed animals or children’s toys without feeling some weird sudden obligation to cry.

And oh yeah, there was that whole engagement thing I did in February. That was supposed to infuse some positive emotion to the month.  7 years or something like that, and it spiraled out so suddenly. Don’t get me wrong. I’m better for having moved on from that relationship, we weren’t right for each other at that point. I think we both saw that. We wanted the other to be someone we weren’t. But that still makes a wonderful pang when I think about it. It hurts. I don’t know how long til that goes away.

Oh and I thought I did okay a couple days ago when I came home from work, only having cried a little during the day. But then in the night I got sick, I think I started running a fever. I was convincing myself to not throw up because I needed my meds to stay down for a number of reasons. But chills shook me violently and painfully between 11pm and 3am. They finally died down and I felt incredibly sick and not rested yesterday. I forced myself to go to school anyway, like a good student, to just get attendance. I don’t remember much for doing that either. Still haven’t eaten since Monday evening. I feel like shit warmed over.

But then I get up today, this morning, determined for it to be better. I start off the day early with an interview for a job I really want, and I’m super grateful that I’m feeling mostly better. Then I’m slightly dreading work after school because it’s inventory at my job and I have to be there very late, when I have to be up very early tomorrow and my sleep stuff is still not figured out.  Some point during the day I get a terrible pain in my back, still have it, just came out of nowhere.

But I make it home regardless to let my awesome dog out of captivity (we’ll get there in a second). Blow for blow, this day is going okay. Then I get to my room and remember, for some reason last night I pissed my bed. As an adult. I had zero awareness of it until it was time to get up and I was even doing that late. So I just dressed up, locked the dog in the crate and took off. Now I am back home in my room and I can smell the piss. So I have to move everything off the bed with my hurt back, remove the sheets and put new ones on, which is harder than it sounds because I can’t actually just go from one side of the bed to the other, again I strain my back, but I remind myself it’s okay, you don’t want to remember later on, you piss your bed at night.

So yeah, that happens, I magically get my necessary homework done, watch some anime, take off to work. Work hurt me further, but that was okay, it was money for it, but I was really looking forward to getting off work.

Right before I get off, I get a notification of what my dog did for damage. I apologize for her and promise to fix it. I thought she was in my room where I left her. Turns out my roommate/cousin/landlord felt more comfortable placing her in the crate. That’s totally cool, that’s why we have it, and she’s more restrained there. She is a problem dog that we have been working on trying to figure out options.  But yeah, breaks out of the crate, no signs of where she moved it or how, just outside. I don’t want to lose her. But having done what we’ve done and it not work, I think there’s not any other option. So not only has my week been shitty, but every time I was willing to see positives, I get bitch slapped by Reality, reminding me that I’m his whore to do with as he pleases.

Too long didn’t read? TL:DR? Fuck life. Not only is this week particularly shitty, this is turning to just force February into my cursing vernacular. There’s nothing good here. I feel fucking exhausted, bawling my eyes out. And I can’t fix it. She’s gotta go. I don’t have much to lose, but every time I think I’m okay, shit like this happens.

 

On The Topic of Loss

I lost my mom in February. It’s been tough, but I made it to where my days didn’t consistently have reminders that she was missing.  Christmas hit in the stores, decorations, wrapping paper and music. I can’t look at them. They hurt to look at. Last Christmas was one where I made an effort to decorate for my mom because she didn’t want to for herself. And then she died on her birthday the February after. I can’t stand the thought of Christmas time as I make my rounds through the different aisles at work.

Then Saturday happens. I wake up groggy to the urgent concern about my father’s health. Rapid breathing, loss of oxygen and increased heart rate.  They give him some painkillers to combat it. He’s suffered a traumatic brain injury 15 years ago and kept beating the odds. He couldn’t say he was in pain. He couldn’t have a conversation or see, or do the things that lots of people do. All we could do for him was tell him exciting things and give him music and food. 15 years of slowly degrading health, requiring 24 hour round the clock care. When my mom passed, it became even painful to visit him. To be reminded of the things she did and that I was not getting anywhere close to completing or even taking on such daunting tasks. So when I get a call Saturday and I get to the nursing home and find him still beating the odds. I visit for a bit. He’s not responsive. Not too atypical as of late. I hang around til it seems things are leveling out. We are waiting on someone to come do suction. I get hungry and need to go as well as have an online test to take. I leave. Half an hour later, I get a call. He’s passed. And all of the moments of the past 15 years culminate in this. And as I told myself that my mom would have to go at some point and no time is easy, I too remind myself that my father isn’t immortal. I comfort myself with the thought of him being his whole self with my mom in Heaven.

Then today gets to be a bit hard because we go to the funeral home and start working things out. Turns out it gets to be another night of tragedy. As my uncle too releases his mortal coil. The man who has supported me in trying to lift me up out of my depression. Offering me resources of which I would not be able to ever have otherwise. He loves in a weird way, in an almost middle class sort of way. In that he sets high standards and goals and does what he can to help you meet him. He has certain ideologies in which he expected me to also identify. But his love was never truly conditional. And now I feel left reeling. No mother. No father. No supporting uncle. I have my fiance and her family. And a very unstable ground on which to walk.

Nevermind the other losses recently. Other uncles and aunts, my brother. This is the one in which I see no way out. I’m certain there is one. There always is. But it doesn’t take to my heart. I don’t see the way out. When my mom passed, I saw the way out through my dad’s brother, the one who passed away tonight. When I learned my dad was very sick and was placed on hospice. I only hoped that I would be given support long enough to recover on my own. When indeed my father died 2 days ago, I prayed that God protect my family. And now there’s this. I turn to God and I don’t know what to ask. I cannot expect anything. For everything I expect goes foul. I thought last year would be the worst year for a while. When I tried to take my life. I suppose it is only well that was last year. I’m now being treated for bipolar disorder fairly well. And if I wasn’t. I can’t say I wouldn’t be trying to take my life again.

I know others out there have it worse. But I just need a fucking break.

 

From Lost to Less

I wrote not too long ago. I don’t know that it was very productive in all reality, but it was a grievance I could allow my mind to have without directing it at someone I care about. So I return to do much (or little) of the same.

I’m in a very anxious mindset. Have been since I woke up. Past week or so, I’ve been down, but even so, in a relative manic state. I think it just bottomed out and now I get to reap the seeds that the manic state has sown.

I spent more money than I should have. Indeed, truth be told with not all of my transactions posting right now, I truly don’t know how much I spent and how much is left in my bank account. By my estimate, it’s around $50. I’ve been in worse states to be sure, but I also added on to credit card things so that they wouldn’t be on my debit card. I don’t know. In the moment I rationalized it and I shouldn’t have. Thanks manic state!

I haven’t spent much time with my fiance (though I haven’t done a formal proposal, girlfriend doesn’t do her justice). I miss her. But I can’t be around her right now either. I don’t want to upset her or both of us. I spoke to her some this evening and saw it was only going South. So I turned to here after telling her I loved her and didn’t want to make things worse.

It’s both relieving and frustrating that she understands. In my mind I insist that she save me, but I give her no tools with which to do so. No knowledge, no ability, indeed I don’t even tell her that I need her, because I also know that I would put her through Hell for no reason and I wouldn’t feel better by the end of it either.

In short I’m having a rough depressive episode. I don’t want to get into the details, but there’s a family health situation, and I’ve already lost too many people this year alone. I am in a place where I cannot afford to miss even a single step with school and I just landed a new job that’s killing me already with the theoretical schedule. I want to back out. I want to say so badly how much I fucked up. I can’t. Because those seeds of the past week or so? They’ve begun to germinate, and I now have to pay money back into places even though I had sworn off the credit cards, even though I had a decent financial situation.

It only takes one episode to ruin months of progress. I’ve dropped out of school 3 times and flunked out a fourth. Only took one bad week, or day, or event that triggered something greater. For me, being bipolar is navigating an amusement park built on a former minefield you’re assured is safe. It’s fun at times, scary at others, and every now and then, you’re certain catastrophe is about to happen when you where that metallic click.

I used to be like this a lot more. This particular state. The one where I’m freaking out, screaming, angry, and hurt on the inside.  I guess I can take some solace in that these are not as often as they were once. A small concession, for whatever that brings. It used be that I would have a tantrum with my mom. As an adult. I would freak out about one thing or another and sooner or later we would both be screaming until I had either left to somewhere else, even to just in my car, or when I was so defeated that I curled up and my mom would be bringing me tea.

I can’t do that now. I can’t smash my phone, I can’t stab my hand, I can’t punch walls, I can’t find something to break, someone to scream at. Indeed today I have had to fight the impulse to pound my head. This is not okay. This is not normal, but neither is bipolar. I keep praying. And I am certain God is out there. I will never understand Him, but I know He’s here for me. But it’s right now when my obstacles seem far greater than they actually may be and I have to constantly tell myself He’ll take care of me.

And it’s moments like this that I find it easy to destroy things. I destroy relationships. I destroy perceptions. I destroy opportunities. I destroy objects, possessions. I destroy ideas, and aspirations. I destroy myself. I will beat my head into submission and to what end?

But I can’t. Because I live somewhere where those around don’t understand me. So I say I’m tired. I’m not feeling well. I overslept. So that my lack of eating isn’t questioned, my longing to not get out of bed or move isn’t brought up. I don’t cry because if I do, it won’t stop. I won’t stop. It’ll go further and get out of hand. I have to shut every single impulse down so I don’t do something I can’t take back or recover from.

I’d rather be lost again than this.

A weary post

I’m tired. Exhausted. Spent both physically and emotionally. On a night where I really just needed some rest, a few things have stacked against me and I made a decision that was not in my best interest.

Enter now. My mom has been on the edge of having a breakdown. There’s nothing I can say or do to make her feel better. Even temporarily. It’s all my fault or someone else’s. And I listened to her cry and scream and threaten for a couple hours tonight. My gut said to leave and get rest. My brain said to leave and get rest. I told my girlfriend I was leaving to go get rest. And I didn’t.
Instead. I somehow chose to be berated and belittled and not have my meds with me tonight because I’m some dutiful and obviously idiotic son.

My mom has it hard. I get that. She shouldn’t. But she does. But me being around her feels like a poison to both of us a lot of the time
Even when I’m being sincere and trying to make her happier.

Doesn’t matter. I have not slept right in days and now I’ll likely be up all night. Watching those hours tick by. Dreading when I have to get to work. Then my time is already taken up tomorrow evening for a Thanksgiving type thing with friends. When I will just want sleep. And my chest feels tight with anxiety already over things that shouldnt stress me and my mind flits to how terrible the world is while I just try my damndest to keep my eyes closed. But instead I’m just full of anxiety and tears.

So I end up here. As my outlet. I’m entitled to off days. I’m bipolar. Even treatment doesn’t 100% eliminate that. But. I’m really just wanting to call in tomorrow and not go to the dinner. I’m really just stressed for no real reason and it keeps building.

Tonight was most decidedly NOT what I needed. And I succumbed to it anyway. Stupid decision. Why can’t I just act on the right decisions?

I’m supposed to have 8-10 hours of sleep while on my meds. Maybe that doesn’t apply tonight because I couldn’t take them. But I haven’t got that in a couple days and this just added to that anxiety. Today started out so great too.

Any day is susceptible I suppose. I’ll just say some short prayers and see if I need to call in tomorrow. Not having the meds makes me incredibly sick the day after missing them. Again. I’m absolutely full of good thoughts ad decisions tonight.

Ah, The Sweet Return of Sense

Just like Stella, I got my groove back. Well… Sort of. It was a really rough period, that depressive episode. Mixed in a few other elements and BAM! I had a really shitty past couple of weeks. I even spent a night in Jail! More on that some other time. Tonight is about positive reflection.

I was down. Super low, I hid it from some friends and others I didn’t mention it to until I was just barely crawling up away from it. A few things I learned from this one. First off, I actually seriously analyzed it to the best of my ability! *Pat on the back*.

Bulleted points? Listen to music, no matter how much I’m not “feeling it”, listen to 90s geek rock, chiptunes, stuff like “The Flight of the Conchords”. Music connects with me, even if I don’t want to listen to it, I’ll feel a little better with the positive tunes playing somewhere.  Next, pep talk yourself. I’ll be writing one here for my own reference before the conclusion of the post, so there’s that. Distraction used to work, but it only makes me exhausted, because I keep going for the distraction instead of actually doing healthy things, like sleeping. Friends, talk to them, even if you aren’t wanting to, tell your close ones that you got a few issues, sometimes they help pick up the slack.

In particular, I believed I came out of this episode when I talked with another friend who has bipolar disorder. Our general conversation led to me affirming my goals and intentions. It was a good conversation to recenter me. 10 out of 10, would have that discussion again, and again, haha.

Another bit of obvious “discovery” I had, was to be ok with being depressed. Don’t fight it, like don’t get upset you are depressed, the depression is already bad, don’t add to it. Just accept it, remind yourself you’re going to come out of it at some point and do the other pointers. No important decisions in a depressive episode, those can end terribly. This includes no decisions about future goals, no decisions about relationships, no decisions about terminations of friendships, and certainly regarding the ending of life.

All in all, productive depressive episode. Gotta admit, wasn’t bad, well, I’ve certainly had worst at least. Keep on these meds, no matter what I think about their effectiveness. I wanted to stop in the depressive episode. I remember how that went every other time though. I did spend a lot of time reading my positive posts, trying to regenerate that attitude and summon it from the depths. I thought if I could cling to that memory, I could get a little boost. Instead, I just lamented that I could go from such happiness to bottoming out so easily. That’s part of the reason for the following bit, the motivational speech to myself, feel free to enjoy, I encourage everyone to have one of these handy!

Grant, dude, you got this. I mean it, you really got this. Yeah, I get it blows right now, life isn’t the best to you, sure, but it’s just temporary thing. You’re gonna come out of this and know that, so no stupid decisions. You keep on fighting, at least to do nothing serious, until this blows over. I mean seriously, you’ve made it, what, a decade like this? More even! And you’re getting better, you got plenty of stuff archived to show for that. Don’t fret that this is part of your cycle, just know that it IS a cycle, it goes back around and gets good again. You’ve beat so many odds already. Bullying? Sure, it left its scars, but you have a good heart and strength to show for it. That kindness you are thinking right now people take advantage of? They do, I won’t lie, but you’re strong enough to rise above that. You strive to be the best man you can be, and most of the time you don’t fall short. You are an integral part of people’s lives, and that won’t change, in fact, you’re going to go on to do great things. Greatness is in you, even if darkness is too. You’re going to rise above that darkness though. It’ll happen, just you wait. In the meantime, ask anyone of your closest friends what they see in you or in your future, it’s good things, trust me, go on and ask, you’ll find that out. You’re a good man Grant, no matter what you want to think of yourself in this trying time. I hope you read these words and recall a many more great thing about yourself. Just remember to give it a few days and it everything will be right again.

So there, that’s done. Hopefully it can keep me focused and returning to at least stable thoughts if not happy ones. The happy ones come back, they did this time and all the ones before it. Time I start fighting bipolar this way instead of exploding against having it. I think this is a step in the right direction. Good night folks, it’s a wonderful night to change.

This is it. The First One Since…

I had a depressive episode finally. So I had gone largely dark. Some friends I was still in touch with. And I bet most of them had no idea I was, AM experiencing something of a depressive episode. I was, am, whatever. It wasn’t the worst I’ve had. In fact, it played a lot of new tricks on me.

I don’t really want to get into specifics. It was rough. Much rougher than I let on. I still can’t shake this feeling that I’m going to die soon. I find it soothing. Like, all of my problems, real or imagined, can just be gone like that. I don’t want to die necessarily. I certainly have no plans to be the instrument of my own parting. But I just can’t get free from it.

I tried to write several times. I read and reread and reread posts of my positive energy. I read all the things that made me happy. None of it worked. It all felt like some cruel joke. Like that was some me that was kidding his self. Even writing this now? It’s laborious. I want to finish it, as a testament to me coming out of this ok. But it’s tempting to just save this as another draft and never look at it again.

I started wondering though. Is this really how life is when I’m “good”? Is it just that depression waiting to creep up on me? I stopped working on my projects. I fell off the grid for a bit for some friends. I played games to distract myself. It worked… somewhat.

But this thought of death just keeps coming back. Like some ultimate intuition.

Maybe I’m just done here for the day. I’ll post this out of more obligation than anything. Maybe I’ll write something good soon, we’ll have to wait and see.