This depression thing? It’s a roller coaster. Not a fun one. There are really good, euphoric days, and then there are really bad, extremely depressive days. The odd day, there’s a happy medium. A “normal”. But those days seem few and far between.
The bad days? They go a little something like this.
My husband annoys me beyond belief. He can’t do anything right. He annoys me if he pays no attention to me, and he annoys me if he pays any attention to me. He annoys me if he asks me what I’m doing that day or what I’m making for dinner, and he annoys me if he doesn’t ask me anything. I don’t want him to touch me at all. Not even a peck on the cheek. I just want him to leave me alone.
My children drive me batty. Every single noise they make drives me insane and makes me want to scream. I don’t want to snuggle. I don’t want them anywhere near me. I want them to just leave me alone.
It takes everything I have not to yell and scream at my family, but I know it wouldn’t be fair to them. Obviously. I don’t want to clean up after them, I don’t want to cook for them, I just want them to take care of themselves and leave me out of it.
Trying to explain to the people I love that it is not their fault that I am like this and there is nothing more they can do about it is probably the hardest thing for them. My husband is as supportive as he can be, but sometimes he has a really hard time dealing with me. If I were him, I would have been DONE with me long ago. But, he’s still here. He’s still supportive. He’s still strong. I think that says a lot about his character.
I have no interest in being social. I don’t want to call anyone, I don’t want to see anyone, I wish that everyone would forget that I even exist. I don’t want to answer the phone, I don’t want to answer any emails. I want to delete my Facebook and Twitter accounts and my Google Reader and take a permanent vacation from my blog. I don’t want to leave my house.
Nothing interests me. Blogs are boring. Blogging is boring. The sight of Facebook makes me want to gag. All my DVR’d TV is uninteresting. I don’t want to take any photos. I don’t want to edit any photos. I don’t want to see a single code of HTML.
No food is appealing, but if I do decide to finally force myself to eat something, I can’t stop and then I get extremely disappointed in myself.
I have dealt with self-hatred and self-destructive behavior since I was a teenager. It hasn’t gotten better. Only worse.
I am incredibly irritable. (Noah would probably say that is an understatement.) I can’t concentrate. I can’t think straight. I feel worthless and hopeless. I feel like my family would be better off without me. I cannot control the negative thoughts no matter how hard I try.
I am not suicidal, but thoughts run though my head often. I’ve thought about all the ways to go. But, they all end in too much work and pain for my family and I don’t want to do that to them. I won’t do that to them.
All I want to do is lay in bed and do nothing.
That’s a bad day.
There have been extreme highs, and there have been extreme lows. There is so much I am ashamed of, that I don’t let myself think of. I shut it out. I didn’t let myself go there. Ever. But then I did let myself visit one place earlier this spring with a weekly support group. That part is dealt with. Healed. Forgiven. But there is still so much more.
Depression is a beast. I hate it. I hate it so so so much.
There has been progress though. I’m beginning to be able to feel again. For a very long time, for years even, I really had no emotion. I was numb. I didn’t feel joy and I didn’t feel pain. Everything was just blah. I was just going through the motions. Nothing made me cry, nothing made me squeal with delight. Now though, the Lord is softening my heart. Slowly. Very slowly. Relapses are frequent.
I’ve cried more this year than in the previous 25 years. It’s been good. It’s been wonderful. It’s been painful. But even the feeling of that pain is good. I can feel it. I’m finally letting myself feel. A little bit. Even as I write this, I’m shaking and there are tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.
One day I will beat it. It will not be automatic, and it will not happen overnight. It’s a long road. It’s a long road with many mountains and valleys and very few plateaus. It’s a road I want to be on. Desperately.
I want to be the wife that my husband deserves. One that wants to spend time with him and wants him to give me that hug just because (and maybe give him one too) (to which my Mr. Editor husband said, “Yea THAT would be nice’) and wants to spend the rest of my life making him happy, even in the little things.
I want to be the mom that my children deserve. One that enjoys playing with them and reading to them and one that wants that extra snuggle before bedtime. I want to be sensitive to their needs and provide them with a stable home environment where they feel loved and cherished and safe. One that they want to come home to.
I know that there is hope.
There is light at the end of the tunnel.
I’m not going to give up.