So Depressed

[jennickels]

It's killing me. I don't know how much more I can take.

I took the Paxil to help with the debilitating PMS I've been having. It worked. Felt great that entire week. No PMS. In fact, I felt the best I've ever had in my entire life. It was amazing. Then I stopped taking it like I was instructed.

No PMS but now a week after... I'm spiraling downward just as bad as during the PMS. It was 10 fucking mg for 7 days and I've never had withdrawal like this. I'm so on edge I want to claw my skin off, pull my hair out, scream. I'm jittery as hell and my mind won't fucking slow down--it's exhausting me.

Last night I tried to read a book because I couldn't calm my mind enough to think straight about my novel so I could write. I'm reading Tahereh Mafi's Unravel Me. I've been waiting forever for this book to come out. But everything I read last night had me in tears because the main character is so lonely and misunderstood and mentally ill. And I could relate to everything she was feeling and the only thing I could do was weep for her. I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be less sympathetic and more just plain pathetic. I think you're supposed to want her to break out of her shell and stop with the pity party or something. But I didn't feel that at all. I just saw me... empty and alone... I'm crying now just thinking about it and I know I won't be able to finish that book even though she's starting to overcome it because I'm too fucking depressed.

One week ago I was on top of the world--felt like I could accomplish anything. Relaxed, finally at east, head calm and full of ideas I could understand and put down on paper. Today I want to curl up into a little ball and wait until the world ends. If it's going to be this bad every time I take the Paxil then there's no point in taking it. Either have this horrible, out of control week before my period or after I come off the Paxil. What difference does it make. There's going to be a time every month I'm so miserable all I can think of is killing myself. I'm just supposed to suck it up and get over it. Stop whining already. Be normal again. I'm so tired of pretending.

(i've written a post like this every months for months now but I don't post them...that's how bad it is...and it's never going to be better. this is as good as it gets for me)

Comments

[jennickels.livejournal.com]

I don't know how you are doing it. I loved having babies but I don't think I could purposefully put myself through this to have another one. It was so hard with Jack because being pregnant screws with my mood. I was so depressed while I was pregnant with him. Hormones so out of whack. It was scary and I wasn't sure I was going to get through the whole thing. And then I was super depressed right after. Bad enough my OB put me on something for my own protection.

Because of how I react to the hormone change in pregnancy/after birth I missed out on enjoying just about everything to do with both. I look back now and realized I missed the first months of each kids' life because I was in a fog of depression so thick it took all my energy to do the basics of diapers and bottles. I barely ate myself during those times and got little sleep (as new mothers know). Sucked.

And the last year I've been so out of it (even with the meds) that I've missed another 12 months of their lives. I've taken almost no pictures of them. I'm missing Jack grow up because I can't deal with being around the kids right now. It tears me apart inside.

[nynaeve-sedai.livejournal.com]

It's complicated. A huge chunk has to do with what I believe about life, death, the nature of our existence, and God. The Bible is full of suffering and how through enduring suffering we gain that which is infinitely valuable. That's the short, honest answer. From that, is a desire not to allow my depression to define my life. I may need to make accommodations (the house isn't as clean, I spend more time on the computer than I would like just zoning out, fewer engagements with people), but it doesn't get to dictate the path my life takes. It was terrifying to set out on this journey and it's miserable being here - I have a lot of terrible thoughts - wishing I wasn't pregnant. Thinking I made a mistake. That kind of stuff. It helps that my husband is thoughtful as to where I'm at, listens and doesn't judge me. He's very patient and giving even when I'm a total bitch (not that he doesn't get frustrated and lose it at times himself).

And it does hurt to not be able to enjoy the pregnancy. For the most part, I have very easy pregnancies (just minor stuff like sciatica). The only thing holding me down is my depression. I don't feel connected to my baby, I don't feel excited. I just feel dread and fear. I'd love to get excited about nursery stuff, but much of what I do is muted. I have *some* enjoyment but it's very little and I feel like I'm digging in dirt to get it. I go through the motions because I anticipate one day feeling good again. When? I don't know, but I know that I'm capable of it with the right medication.

Of course, I've worked really hard to get to this point and I still don't do it perfectly. I've been sucky at getting to my therapist. I've been noticing I've been isolating myself too much. Constant vigilance is exhausting and I feel a bit lonely in all of it.