...
another one of these...but, as I have said, all negativity will be behind a cut.
As usual, as a general guideline...disregard.
So what is it this time? Same old, same old. I marvel at my friends’ ability to keep up with dealing with me for this many years, with the same damn thing every month. It’s gotten to that point where it literally is the same thing and I know all I could really do is wait for it to pass...and thus hard to make it through.
tw: er, mental health things, suicide mention, um...alcohol? More or less
It’s the desperation, the utter insanity of it, the horrid crushing pain that won’t go away - if it’s not the negative thoughts, it’s just a constant...pressure, void, eating up everything. I think I prefer the negative thoughts - at least those I can debate with, reason with. Depression hits me mostly physically, and the pain is awful, and almost nothing I do can make it stop, it taints things I love, drains the joy from them, and if it is powerful enough to lean on, there will come a day, sometimes days, sometimes months, when it will become too painful to think of, the feeling of depression thoroughly ingrained with it. I’ve ruined too many songs this way, and I shudder to think of it happening to my beloved ELP.
It was so odd, though the side-effects were pretty bad at first, to actually be relieved of that pain. Anti-depressants. They work. Sort of. When I said every month, I meant ‘every month’ - PMS, horrid horrid depressive crash. Every single point where I’ve been suicidal enough to plan it, has been during one of those times. It just barges in, with the dreadful knowledge that it will be gone in a few days, but those few days are of constant terror and pain. Psychiatrist raised an eyebrow at that. I guess it’s not supposed to happen when I’m already on 200mg of sertraline. Where it used to be fairly to quite depressed, into downright suicidal, it is now more or less completely fine into sudden physically very depressed. I guess the contrast makes the latter worse to bear and the former more tiresome. (Does it feel better to write it out? I dunno, at least it’s keeping me busy...)
It is also dreadfully awful to know that there is one thing that helps, and that is alcohol - have a bit to dull the feeling, and sleep a few hours off these nightmarish days. I dare not, though it’s tempting. That voice...I don’t know what’s real or not...is it a growing addiction or just trying to take care of myself. Why do you insist on feeling awful, look you can hardly keep it together - soon people will notice, and there’d be awkward questions to which you have to force a smile. Just have a bit to drink, not much, just a mouthful, just to dull it to a more manageable level. I guess I’ll try to sleep without it.
Well, I made it through one more night. Today might be worse though...the void has frozen over, it’s cold, it radiates chill...I guess like I got skewered with Aeglos or something. It won’t stop...no matter how many blankets, no matter if I’m already sweating. This usually doesn’t last more than two days though. This is generally the low point and negativity stems from not wanting to trouble people with this, that it’s bad enough that I feel it...shouldn’t bring it to others. It gets too much sometimes, being told it does not exist, the ‘have you tried...?’, just so tired...rest, some rest, any rest...(death? that’s where it usually creeps in), then pretending absolutely nothing is the matter. Interactions are especially draining...this time especially. A few sentences exchanged can knock me out for the rest of the day (feels like being really sleep deprived...), and pushing on only results in a blinding headache that does not go away with painkillers.
Yes, I have brought these up with health professionals, no, they haven’t resolved it...(hmm....that’s unusual, never heard of it, is a common response), hopefully though. Yes, I had things checked, bloodworks, heart conditions...nothing, aside from being slightly anemic. I try to not give myself a hard time for barely being functional at this time...but, it’s hard, hard when there are expectations, duties, and mother’s scornful words at wanting to fall back into bed after, say, cooking breakfast for the house. Of course, mentioning that I am currently ick, yeah, it gets denied...with a more rigorous attempt at getting me up and about.
Why am I writing this? I dunno...it’s draining, so very draining...maybe it’d be enough for me to fall back asleep...yeah, sleep sounds good... - 8:09am
