Still dark outside

I’m sitting here in the dark, my blankie wrapped around me,
listening to my kitty and doggy sleep and dream. They surround me on the bed like little
guardians. The blank screen in front of
me is not set up correctly and is really bothering me. I tried to fix it but it won’t cooperate. It’ll have to do. It’s 5 in the morning. I stayed up after Jason left for work at 3:45 or something. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I’m tired but my mind just keeps turning over
and over around subjects in my life. I decided
it was just as easy to sit up and write.

I don’t want to go anywhere today. But I have to. Joshua has to be woken up and taken to
school. I have therapy and a doctor’s
appointment. Blah blah blah. I have a headache and my stomach is flip flopping.
My heart is thudding harder than I find
comfortable. I would take an anxiety
pill but they make me too tired and my alarm going off at 6 a.m. is way too soon to sleep the
affects off completely. I hate that
feeling. Being more tired and not able
to sleep is certainly not going to lift my mood either. I just need to breathe through it for
now.

You would think that in my depression I would look forward
to seeing Libby. I usually do. Right now I just want to do nothing. I think right now if some hot guy offered me a
free massage I would still just want to sit here and do nothing. Wait.
That’s an offer I can’t officially say ‘no’ to unless the situation were
to actually arise. See, still got my
humor. Always do.

I told a friend yesterday that what I am learning in my
Mental Health First Aid course is exactly what I need to have happen for
me. I figured my depression would have
passed by now. But, unfortunately, it
began before my class started and seems to want to extend past the end. I need to study today for my exam
tomorrow. Must focus, must focus. I can’t get certified if I don’t pass and
this is important to me. Sometimes if I
focus on helping other people with their mental health it distracts me from my
own. Let’s be honest. Call it what it is. It’s not a distraction, it’s a cover up. When I feel like this I like to mask (ah! my
special word!) it with band aids. If I
can cover it up for just a little while then I can get by this section of my
day without anyone noticing. A couple
jabs and jokes, a few laughs, a smile plastered on my face and before you know
it I have fooled the masses and I’m free to go.
I will be able to pull that off tomorrow just fine. Plus, I was promised a stuffed koala bear
(mascot for the class program) when I graduate.

I looked around me yesterday and noticed the way my house
looks. It’s dusty, the floors need to be
vacuumed, swept, mopped. My toilets need
a scrub. I do a load of laundry every
day and feel like I’m being buried under it every morning. And I haven’t shaved my legs in a week. Well, I do have a secondary reason for all of
this other than just depression and laziness.
Whenever I bend over my teeth throb.
The blood pulses through my veins and remind me that the ache can get worse
with the simplest of movements. A lot of
house cleaning and shaving require bending over. Imagine that.

Yesterday was a bad day for me. I spent a lot of time sulking, weeping and
listening to music. The problem with
music for me is that I listen to the stuff I am feeling. If I’m feeling down then I listen to
depressing shit. If I am feeling upbeat
then I listen to happy shit. I sunk
pretty low. I had a friend come by and check
on me. No, that’s not exactly the
truth. She rushed over and took care of
me. She noticed a song I shared on
Facebook and felt my desperation. Thank
you, my friend.

My mother picked up Joshua from school and brought him
home. When she walked in the drama in
her face was priceless. She said she
hadn’t seen me like this in a long time and then asked why I didn’t tell her I
was depressed. Really? Yes, because running to draw water from a dry
well is exactly what I need to do in these moments. She asked the great question: Is your [estrogen] patch not working?
(sigh) Reminded me of
when I was a teen and had a mood swing.
She would ask me if I had my period.
So comforting and loving. Her
narrow mind just cannot seem to grasp the fact that I have an illness and
sometimes it just comes around to remind me it’s there. Just like any other disease or illness, it is
not going to just coast its way through life without a bump in the road here
and there. If someone with a crippling
physical illness had some aches and pains one day no one would question
that. If a diabetic had a sugar low and
needed to get some help one evening no one would question that. An illness may create discomfort. This is something else we have talked about
in my first aid class.

Later my mother called to check up on me. Jason answered the phone. Guess what she asked him. Come on, you guys can get this. “Is she taking her meds?
In my Mental Health First Aid book it lists things you
should not say to someone you are trying to help. That exact phrase is at the top of the
list. Do not assume that this is
something I have brought on myself.
People with a mental illness already feel the stigma of being crazy and
carry the shame of that on their shoulders.
Don’t say crap to make us feel worse.
I know she is just trying to be a concerned person. Or so you would think. Do not worry though. I can guarantee that this situation is one
that she has already used to get attention from others around her. I know my mother well.

Jason was kind last night.
He stuck by my side and tried to stay awake. He was nodding off before we even ate
dinner. I do appreciate his efforts
though. Thank you, my dear.

This will pass, folks.
It always does. Maybe with a few
battle scars, but they will fade with time.
They always do. The ride will
continue whether I want it to or not. It
always does. Always and always, round
and round. Gets kind of tiring, don’t ya
think?