I'm having a particularly difficult time this evening. Funny, because I had a pretty good day. Today was my first day alone since Thursday and I thought I would have a hard time. I did have a small panic attack, but I got over it quickly. But as I type this, I can feel both depression and anxiety trying to overcome me.
Again I feel like crying for no reason, or just sleeping and sleeping and sleeping. Again I feel my heart racing, the shortness of breath and shaky all over feeling. And again I am reminded that I am a work in progress, not whole or finished yet. This has, by far, been the most difficult thing I've gone through. More so than cervical cancer, my hysterectomy, my breast cancer scare. More than ever I feel powerless and out of control.
I've dealt with depression before - numerous times. Why is this time so different? Why is this time so much worse? This is horrible and stupid and I want to be done with it. I want to be better. I want to be me.
Saturday and Sunday went so well. Today went so well. And now I'm crashing again. I'm trying not to - believe me, I am. Which is why I'm writing this right now. I'm hoping to gain some insight to what I'm feeling.
What I think triggered it was grocery shopping. Buying things for lunches and remembering that I go back to work on Wednesday. It filled me with dread and anxiety. I don't want to face people. I don't want to explain myself. I don't want to answer questions. Not yet. I'm too fragile. I wish I was stronger.
Fuck.

Today was a much better day. A stark contrast from Thursday, and better than yesterday. One thing I discovered though, is one of the triggers for my anxiety. When I start having depressive thoughts, I now try to stop them cold. This produces anxiety. Heart races, I feel like I'm not getting enough air . . .ugh.
Also, I'm so tired. So very tired. Probably because I haven't been sleeping well, but also, the anxiety, and the stopping of my current thinking processes, is tiring. I want a solid night of sleep. No tossing and turning, no dreams (they're not the best right now), no random waking up.
There's more I want to write. Lots more. I just don't have the concentration to do so. Though I will say this: a special THANK YOU to my good friends - Lesley, Beth, Tracy, Christine, and of course Jeremy. Thank you for checking in on me, talking to me, acknowledging what's going on and not letting it scare you off. I appreciate you more than you'll ever know. You give me strength and courage and the will to try and get better when it seems things are falling apart. Thank you.

Well, hello there Friday. Yesterday I wasn't sure if I'd be around to see you. I'm glad I am.


Not going into details, but yesterday, Thursday, was a very bad day. Very bad indeed. It didn't start that way, no. But around 11 . . . I kinda sank, drowning in sorrow and the strong desire to do something to take the pain away. Again, no details, I think that would be a trigger for me, but lets just say that I thank God for my husband, my psychiatrist, my therapist and my close friends. If not for you all, I fear I wouldn't be seeing this blustery cold Friday.

So thank you. Today, hopefully, will be a better day. And tomorrow, better still. There will always be setbacks, but I will take them as they come, moment by moment. And always, I will update.

If you've been reading, then you know I had my first appointment today with a psychiatrist. It's been a long time coming and thank God I finally got to see one. He's a dapper old fellow who's been in practice for 30 years and he knows his stuff. Very personable, straight and to the point - he's not gonna bullshit ya. Also genuinely caring. I liked him immediately. He liked my obnoxiously green shoes.
Let's talk about said appointment now. It went . . . rather well. We talked a lot about this depressive episode, past depressive episodes and my mood overall. My diagnosis was confirmed - I am bipolar type 2. Though he doesn't necessarily like to use that term, "bipolar". Lots of negative connotations with it. He prefers I say I cycle my moods. Which, truthfully, is what happens when you're bipolar. The interesting thing is that how I've been treated all these years, with antidepressants, doesn't work for someone who "cycles their moods". It may work for a few months, but, inevitably, the meds stop working. Why? Because they only treat the depression - not the mood disorder.
Well then, what works? A mood stabilizer. Typically used without an antidepressant. Which means we have a plan. I'm starting on Lithium - the tried and true mood stabilizer for bipolar disorder. We'll be weaning me off of the Lexapro as I shouldn't need it once the Lithium starts working. I'll be working closely with my psychiatrist over the coming months to find a balance. I now have a therapist who I'll be working closely with also.
In a word, I have hope. Finally . . . hope.
Some of you may want to know how to help. Maybe help me (if you're one of my friends or family), or maybe you know someone else in your life with bipolar disorder. My words of advice - read up on the condition. Know that this is a chemical imbalance of the brain and is no one's fault. You can't "get over" bipolar disorder or depression - just like you can't "get over" cancer. Be patient, be understanding and listen. Offer support, a hug, a shoulder to cry on. If you notice the person (including me) not quite acting like themselves - unusually happy, giddy, agitated, angry - point it out. It could be the start of a mood cycle and the person is often unaware of the subtle changes. But, more than anything, just be there for them. Being a friend or family member of someone dealing with bipolar disorder or depression can be very stressful and, at times, frustrating. Trust me when I say that I appreciate your concern, your presence, your patience, your support.
If you have questions about what I'm going through or feeling or about bipolar disorder in general, please ask. I'm more than happy to answer questions. And I would love to educate people more on this condition as it is chronic and lifelong. Those of you who know me know that I'm open, so approach me. If you're suffering from bipolar disorder or depression and need someone to talk to, drop me a line. I'll do what I can to help.
Know that I have hope. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and it's growing brighter every day. I'm moving forward, I'm getting better, and I'm here to help.

It's late and I'm up typing. I had a rough weekend. Well, starting on Thursday, really. Not a great day. Friday was worse. A friend had to talk me out of taking sleeping pills. I wouldn't have done it. But the desire was so strong it scared me. Saturday was a baby shower that I co-hosted. I felt bad - I was a little anti social. But it went well. Work on Sunday was difficult. Got better that afternoon. Printed out a list of psychiatrists covered by my insurance. Then Monday. Monday was good.
The first office I called, the doctor answered the phone. The doctor himself. Which surprised me. What surprised me even more was that he's taking new patients and I have an appointment tomorrow. After all this time, I finally have an appointment with a psychiatrist. Maybe I can start to feel better. Maybe I can start to be me.
I'm scared though. Scared to go. What if he wants to hospitalize me? I have strong suicidal ideation. What if I don't get better? What if the depression comes back again quickly? Oh the delightful inner workings of my mind. Giving me anxiety and mini panic attacks. I'm sure he can help. I'm sure I'll feel better. But truly, for how long? The depression always comes back. Always. It is and has always been my constant companion.
When it does come back, I'm usually depressed for a few weeks before my new/increased meds start to work and I have a "fuck you depression" moment and move on. This time . . . not so much. No "fuck you moment". I've been on my increased dose of Lexapro for 2 weeks, dealing with the depression for 2 months, and . . . nothing. Not feeling better. Not coping. No motivation. Dark thoughts. And sadly, no desire to hide it. I don't feel like putting on my mask. It's too much work. It's too tiring. I want to curl up in a ball and sleep. Just sleep. It's easier to sleep. No thoughts or feelings to contend with.

I'll update after my appointment tomorrow. We'll see how it goes.
And if you read this, comment please. Comments help keep me going. They really do. And now, off to sleep.

So this is annoying. Yesterday I felt pretty damn good. I was productive, relatively happy, I sewed, ran errands, did the dishes . . .
Today . . . not so much. Today I feel like crying. Again, for no reason. I found out yesterday that my thyroid levels are too high now, so my thyroid medication has been reduced and I'll have blood work checked again in 6 weeks. What are symptoms of HYPERthyroidism? Fatigue, agitation, irritability, depression, mood swings, hair loss, insomnia. Many of the things I've been experiencing. Yay.
I can officially say that I hate my thyroid. And I'm tired of having to muck around to get the dosages correct. It's terribly annoying.
But that's not what's bothering me today. I don't think so anyway. I was put on call this morning, which is fine, but I think my mood would have been better at work. At least I would have been busy. I've spent the morning playing with Ayden. We played "army", we painted, we watched Max and Ruby. He's in the bath as I write this and I'm alone with my thoughts.
Do you know how horrible it feels to wish you had something bad happen to you, just so you'd have a reason to be depressed? If I was fighting cancer, I'd have a reason. Friends and family and coworkers would gather round me and support me and give me strength. Each triumph would be celebrated, my bad days would be understood.
It feels horrible to think that. Makes me feel guilty. But I also feel guilty because I have no reason for the way I feel. Maybe if I did, the depression wouldn't be so unbearable.

Yesterday was awful. I worked yesterday and it was a very hard day. I felt . . .empty. A complete empty husk. Barely any feeling at all. Distant and distracted, lost, sad, flat, withdrawn. Horrible. It was a long day. A difficult day.
But today was better. I felt more like myself, which was a relief. I worked, and it was busy, and I think that helped. I also talked with my Grandma last night about my Uncle. Wait - I just realized I didn't share something. I found out on Friday that my Uncle has an aggressive form of lymphoma, had emergency surgery and was on chemo. It hit me hard. My uncle was pretty much my surrogate father after my dad died. So anyway, long story short, my gram gram told me that the oncologist is very optimistic and that my uncle is doing very well. I certainly think the news helped my mood.
Yes. So. We'll see how this goes.

Rawr.
I worked Thursday and Friday after having 6 days off to deal with my depression at home. Thursday sucked. Hard. I had a difficult time not breaking down and crying all day. I felt withdrawn and fake, tired and mentally drained. But I made it through the day. I seriously considered calling in on Friday, or at least being first request off. It wouldn't have mattered though - we were crazy busy yesterday. 8 deliveries. And it was a better day. I think because it was so busy I didn't have time to let my feelings get the better of me. What I noticed though, and it's something I really don't like, was my bitterness. I've become a little cynical and jaded, a little angry at random people. Random stupid and closed minded people. I won't go into detail, but I had to keep anger in check. I don't like that. It's something I need to work on. I know it comes with the depression, but it has to stop.
I had a bit of a revelation yesterday. I was looking at the job postings online for Centura and saw a posting for oncology. My heart sped, I immediately opened the posting, thinking to myself oh GAWD I hope I still have my resume in my email, only to be let down because it was a night shift position. My heart sank. I seriously almost cried. (if you're wondering, I in no way can handle a night shift - I tried and I failed at it). But this chance and fleeting moment showed me something - I know where my next move should be. I've been contemplating changing areas for awhile but I didn't know what I wanted to do. Now . . . I know. Oncology. Something I had an interest in when I was in nursing school but put by the way side when I went to the birth center. At least I have some clarity.
Also, on a sadder note, I found out last night that my uncle has lymphoma. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet, but I know he had surgery and has started chemo (all this happened in the last 2 weeks or so). My Uncle Fred was my surrogate father after my dad died and this news hit me hard. Lymphoma tends to be treatable, so I'll stay positive. It's just . . . my grandpa died of lymphoma, my dad died of lung cancer (he was only 43) and I can't have my uncle gone too.
Thinking about it, it's not so strange that I'm interested in moving to oncology. With all the cancer in my family, with my own bout of cervical cancer (and a breast cancer scare and removal of a pre-cancerous lesion from my face) it's not surprising.
Get better pretty Fred, I love you.

I'm tired today. Probably because I was up most of the night with Ayden. It's not fun to be woken up to "mommy I barfed in my bed." Poor guy. He seems to be feeling better, just no appetite.
And yes, I had my doctor's appointment today. It went well. We're going to double my Lexapro dose (from 20mg to 40mg) and I'm getting a referral to a therapist. We'll see how it helps. Actually, I have no doubt what-so-ever that doubling my meds will help. It'll help wonderfully. But we'll see for how long. When I was on Zoloft, I started on 50mg. Then 100, then 150 and finally 200mg (the max dose). 40mg is the max dose of Lexapro so if it stops working again then I'll have to add something to it. More meds . . . oh well. I also had blood work drawn to check my thyroid levels to see if we need to adjust my thyroid meds.
I was productive after my appointment. Cleaned the bathrooms, did laundry, tidied up, and vacuumed. Go me! My best bud Lesley came over and kept me company for a little bit and I chatted with my other friend Beth. Tonight I'm meeting with friends to plan a baby shower. Things to keep me occupied, which is good. I'm a little more down today - nothing like I was a few days ago - but a little more blah than yesterday. Probably too because I'm tired.
I may come back and write more later, but for now, this is about all I can get out.

Well, this morning I'm feeling a wee bit better than yesterday. The rant yesterday, coupled with fits of crying and a 2 hour nap, seemed to have helped. I'm certainly not myself - not yet. I still feel like I could cry at any moment for no reason . . . but I feel better than yesterday. I'll be heading to the gym here shortly. I'm not terribly motivated to go, but I will feel better if I do. Physical activity (coupled with my playlists on my Ipod) seem to help. I hope to be productive today.
My son is running around in circles like a crazy person, chasing our dog. Things like that put a smile on my face and make the depression not as bad. Also, my hubby tolerates me and my moods, tries to make me smile, and forces me out of the house. I'd be lost without him and my son.
Another thing: if you read my previous post, you should read the comments. The second one is from my best friend Lesley. It made me tear up in a good way.
Little things, pushing me forward, pulling me up, helping me out. This blog may become my diary of sorts for a little while as I work through this. I plan on writing tomorrow after my doctor's appointment. We'll see what he says.

My blogging here has been sporadic, at best. I'm hoping, with the bringing of the new year, I can change that. We'll see. No promises.
But today's post is more of a vent anyways, and I don't think I care one way or another if anyone reads it. See, today's post is about depression.
It's a big ugly word and still contains very negative connotations, even though it is very well researched and documented. Now, I haven't been shy about discussing depression or the state of my mind, but this post may be an eye opener for some. What I've been experiencing and dealing with. How I feel and think. And how I cope. I'm at a point where I need to purge and I might as well do so on a public forum on the internet for everyone to read. Yeah? And forgive my prose - I am not a writer by any stretch of the word.

We all know that I'm bipolar, yes? You didn't? Now you do. I'm type 2, depression dominant. I don't have manic episodes. And the depression is typically what seeps through. For me, almost every day I wake up, I face a challenge. How am I going to feel today? Will it be a good day? Or will I have to fight? I can usually tell within a few minutes of being awake what kind of day it will be. My good days, I feel "normal" (whatever that is). My bad days . . .not so much.
On the days when the depression is there, it's a struggle. A fight. With my emotions and thoughts. All I want to do is stare off into space or sleep. It's much easier to do those things than it is to face the day. Sadly, it's rare that I get to do either of those things. Life has a way of getting in the way. I have to actually function. I have a son, a husband, a job, all of which demand my attention. So no, no sleep. No escape. I have to put on my brave face and convince others that I'm alright.
On goes the brave face. I tell myself that it's okay, that I can do this. It's only a 12 hour shift/day with Ayden/day by myself or with the family. I can do this. I've become a good actress. Most people can't tell that I'm secretly suffering. That while I look brave and normal, I'm really falling apart on the inside. A few people may comment that I seem "quiet" or "tired". I tell them I didn't sleep well the night before. They nod understandingly, unaware of the true problem. And this ruse, this false front, it takes a lot of energy. It exhausts me. It's not easy keeping my thoughts at bay. So I often am tired.
Some of you might be wondering exactly what does go through my mind. Sometimes everything. Sometimes . . . nothing. I'll often feel as though life has no purpose. That there's nothing worth living for. Nothing worth fighting for. I feel empty. Worthless. Hopeless. I feel as though it wouldn't matter if I wasn't around anymore. I see everything as being pointless. I lack motivation and direction. In everything. I may not be motivated to do the dishes or shower or eat because it's so much easier to sit and do nothing. And what would it matter anyway? I don't draw, I don't sew, I don't sculpt, I don't read. I don't play with my son. I don't play with my son. Which makes me feel like a horrible mother. Which in turn makes me sink deeper.
I get angry easily. My temper flares and I get snippy for no reason. I start cussing more. Yelling more. Which makes me sink deeper.
I think about ways to harm myself. I think about ways to kill myself. I think about ways to escape via drugs or alcohol. Luckily, for myself and everyone around me, I don't act on these thoughts. EVER. But they're there. My ever constant companion. Which makes me sink deeper.
If this wasn't enough, I also berate myself over feeling this way. What right do I have to be depressed? I have a wonderful husband, a beautiful son, a house, a career, 2 vehicles, family, friends, food, spending money . . . . It's not like I've just lost my spouse or child. I'm not bankrupt. I didn't lose my house or my job. I'm not facing a major illness. What gives me the right to feel the way I do? Nothing. Nothing gives me the right. Which makes me sink deeper.
This spiral comes and goes, and I may go a long period before I experience it. But it's been happening more frequently. Probably 10 or more times in the last 5 years. I've been on numerous medications. Some work, some not at all. The ones that work only do so for a limited time. Some cause other problems (like destroying my thyroid function - thanks, Lamictal). But in the end, the depression returns. It always returns.
I have an appointment on Wednesday with my family doctor. I am going to be referred to a therapist. If I can, I want to be referred to a psychiatrist.
The depression comes, as it always does, and I will end up on top, like I always do. But it's a struggle and a fight every day to beat it.
For those who might worry - I am safe. I am stronger than that. I may be a complete loon but I'm not stupid.
If you or someone you love is battling depression, please, don't suffer in silence. Ask for help. Offer help. You are stronger than that and you are worth it.