Lately my mood has been too unpredictable for comfort.
Off and on throughout August, I was having these unpleasant times (usually lasting less than a day, thankfully) where I'd feel unstable and overly emotional for no particular reason. It was quite upsetting, and made it difficult to plan anything with people. But because hot weather and I don't mix well, I wasn't surprised. And things settled down considerably during September.
So at my psychiatrist phone appointment last week I was able to report that I was feeling better. However, since then the symptoms have returned a few times. I don't like it one bit. Today is the worst; I just feel like crawling back into bed and crying myself to sleep. This despite the beautiful sunny weather and pretty trees outside my windows.
I have not gone back to bed however. I've been distracting myself with genealogy research and a bit of online church (discovered that in 2020). I made myself a nice pot of herbal tea but only had a few sips, just don't want it. Ate an apple just to get something into my stomach. Took my pills as usual. Read a couple of inspirational pages, but they failed to inspire. Don't want to phone anyone right now because I'd probably just cry, and I've found that crying on the end of a phone line doesn't work too well for me - it's the distance or something. But I may phone a friend later anyway if this keeps up.
I seriously hate depression. Sometimes it saps the joy out of life, no matter how hard you try not to let it. I just want it to go back to wherever it came from and leave me alone.
I have an appointment with a counselor but it's a month away. The mental health drop-in group that helped me through many unstable times has ceased to exist, trashed by the pandemic and lack of staff. I still attend my weekly 12-step group, which is a lifeline, but not the same as a mood disorders group. I confide in a couple of close friends, but mostly I don't want to even talk about how I feel or think about it, because it takes me back to the years when I had prolonged episodes of major depression. Not fun.
My rational brain says chances are this will pass before too long. It's the disordered part of my mind that gets in there and invades the rational part.
I needed to write this. I needed to tell somebody. Because I can explain it better here, somehow. Because I know some of you know exactly what I'm talking about. You know, not wanting to have a mood disorder mess up your life. Or even your week. Or your day, or whatever.
Just so you know, I've had no thoughts of harming myself, nothing like that. And I look forward to being able to come on here and give a more positive, hopeful report. But for right now - ick
Off and on throughout August, I was having these unpleasant times (usually lasting less than a day, thankfully) where I'd feel unstable and overly emotional for no particular reason. It was quite upsetting, and made it difficult to plan anything with people. But because hot weather and I don't mix well, I wasn't surprised. And things settled down considerably during September.
So at my psychiatrist phone appointment last week I was able to report that I was feeling better. However, since then the symptoms have returned a few times. I don't like it one bit. Today is the worst; I just feel like crawling back into bed and crying myself to sleep. This despite the beautiful sunny weather and pretty trees outside my windows.
I have not gone back to bed however. I've been distracting myself with genealogy research and a bit of online church (discovered that in 2020). I made myself a nice pot of herbal tea but only had a few sips, just don't want it. Ate an apple just to get something into my stomach. Took my pills as usual. Read a couple of inspirational pages, but they failed to inspire. Don't want to phone anyone right now because I'd probably just cry, and I've found that crying on the end of a phone line doesn't work too well for me - it's the distance or something. But I may phone a friend later anyway if this keeps up.
I seriously hate depression. Sometimes it saps the joy out of life, no matter how hard you try not to let it. I just want it to go back to wherever it came from and leave me alone.
I have an appointment with a counselor but it's a month away. The mental health drop-in group that helped me through many unstable times has ceased to exist, trashed by the pandemic and lack of staff. I still attend my weekly 12-step group, which is a lifeline, but not the same as a mood disorders group. I confide in a couple of close friends, but mostly I don't want to even talk about how I feel or think about it, because it takes me back to the years when I had prolonged episodes of major depression. Not fun.
My rational brain says chances are this will pass before too long. It's the disordered part of my mind that gets in there and invades the rational part.
I needed to write this. I needed to tell somebody. Because I can explain it better here, somehow. Because I know some of you know exactly what I'm talking about. You know, not wanting to have a mood disorder mess up your life. Or even your week. Or your day, or whatever.
Just so you know, I've had no thoughts of harming myself, nothing like that. And I look forward to being able to come on here and give a more positive, hopeful report. But for right now - ick
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