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.