I admit it. I am depressed. Clinically, situationally, whatever anyone wants to diagnose me as. Depressed.
It sucks. Brutally, royally sucks....And for some reason, I am embarrassed. I don't know if I am humiliated by the weakness that this affliction shows or by the possibility that I am "unfixable" or broken.
After the birth of Briar, I was prescribed antidepressants and attended meetings with a therapist who dealt with post-partum depression. I had been feeling "normal" for quite sometime and had been working with the doctor as I was weaned off the meds.....Then Jeff "bought the farm" (SO sick of using "died", "passed", "left us", etc. I don't think he'd mind if I used more colourful euphemisms...especially if they make me giggle...). His abrupt departure meant the end to my declining medication. I have stayed at the dose I was then. A bloody high dose.
I have been at a point a few times since he "went belly up" where I thought I could resume the lowering of my meds. But since we've moved, that phenomenon has halted all together.
I don't know what has changed aside from working outside the home, Liv attending school, not having my sister or Marnie close by, and the much higher living expenses....Okay, I suppose a lot of shit has changed.
There are truly wonderful things about being here....the beach, the community, the cooler weather....
But I want my garden and my crafts. I want to hang with my kiddos. I want time to sit in the chicken yard and gaze at the "Girlz". I want to again focus on my photography and sewing dresses.
But that time has passed and I have to move on.
I keep focusing on the negative when I should just suck that shit up and move on. I DO NOT want to feel this way. Sad, pathetic, useless, needy.
So I am forcing myself to pull up these bloody itchy socks and face this "Depression Dude" with a sneer on my lips while flipping the bird in his ugly mug.
I have an appointment with my beloved therapist who has agreed to take me on again. I will not allow myself to wallow in the negative (for every bloody issue on my list, I am going to force myself to write something.....happy) and I am making myself go back to my one-good-thing exercise. I don't have the time to do this....But I need to make the time, because I think I am going insane.
I am realizing that it's a damn good thing that I keep this blog. It has chronicled this insidious spiral downward while I was unaware of its' happening. But last night, I sat here and read my posts from the last few months.....and, dude, it was a depressing read.
So wish me luck, I am going to push off from the bottom and attempt to head back up to the surface.
Thank you for all your support, my blogosphere buddies. You rock.
Killing The Angel of the House
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