I’m not sure when things fell apart, this time.

Things have been going well. I’m working full time now. I’m assistant managing, again,  and I really love it. The kids, they are doing well. Mr Awesome and I are doing very well. My mother is doing well, my creative life is decent enough. It’s raining again, which makes me feel almost happy with the world. I have a new relationship, which is a wonderful thing.

But still, She’s there, whispering from the corners of my mind. The Bitch, always there, always wanting to piss on everything.

She pushes herself between my husband and myself, and tells me that there isn’t a connection anymore, that he and I are struggling, creating conflict where there isn’t any.

She makes me tired and makes me hurt, so I can’t enjoy a walk around the city with my new lover.

She makes me feel that everything is my fault, that my friends’ troubles are, somehow, caused by me.

She slips in and makes me say things I regret to my children.

She makes me apathetic and lethargic at work, making me miss my goals and making me wonder if I deserve the position they’ve promoted me to.

She turns my days off into marathons of sleeping and knitting while I watch the housework build up around me, too tired to do anything more than feel bad about it. 

She makes everyday things like doing the dishes or going shopping a painful, exhausting task. 

It’s hard and it’s frustrating. I don’t know when she snuck in this time. I don’t honestly know what happened. It’s was a long and miserably hot summer this year, which is always rough on me. There have been a lot of changes,too. And even if those changes are good things, they take a toll on me, and often trigger my depression. There has been the crazy rush of NRE and the special kind of emotional roller coaster that occurs when a shiny new relationship meets major depressive episode. There’s been my new position, in a new store, with lots of new responsiblity and stress and new people.

And I stopped working out. And I started eating too much junk food and soda. And I got really sick with bronchitis and stopped taking my suppliments. And I started shopping too much and sleeping too little, and I started picking fights with my husband.

And I asked why I felt so terrible. And I asked why I was hurting all over. And I asked why I had two wonderful relationships when I didn’t deserve either. And I asked why my boss always seemed unhappy with me. And I asked why my kids got on my nerves so much, when all I wanted when I was working was to be with them. And I asked why I didn’t want to cook or write or hike anymore.

And I all I wanted was to stop feeling so broken.

Mr Awesome and I took a weekend at the Oregon coast. We walked a lot, and we talked a lot. We watched the sunset, and it was glorious. And I realized, I was tired of fighting. Not with him. We rarely fight. 
I was tired of fighting this battle alone. 

I have this amazing support group of friends and partners. People who will text me and make sure I am ok. A boss who knows what the battlefield of depression looks like from the inside. A husband who always, always is my rock and my solid ground. A partner who is always there when the sadness and the physical pain gets too huge. 

But in  my head, where the Bitch lives, I was alone. Just me and her. And I couldn’t do it alone anymore. 

I’ve never medicated for my depresion. I didn’t want to ask for help again. 

Last time I asked for help, I was body shamed. I was told losing weight and doing yoga would cure me. The time before that, I was accused of being drug-seeking. When I was a kid, I was told by my parents to suck it up. I ignored 30 years of voices telling me that i didn’t need help, and did something very very hard.

I asked my doctor for help.

I cried in her office, and I left with a prescription, and a recommendation for a therapist. I couldn’t look into the pharmasist’s eyes as she went over the three pages of adverse side effects. I saw so much pity there… although looking back, I’m sure it was acutally sympathy. 

It’s been two weeks, and I’m doing ok. I get dizzy, sometimes, and I get a weird taste in my mouth from time to time. But I don’t feel like all my joints are made of ground up glass anymore. It doesn’t hurt to get out of bed. The brain fog is starting to really lift, and I have more energy. I’m sleeping so much better, which is awesome all by itself.

And last night, I heard the best thing ever. I was reading something funny online, and Mr Awesome grinned and said “It’s so good to hear you laugh again.”


2 responses to “Help

  • The Elephant in the Room

    It sounds like you took the really brave step to try and help yourself, and in the least patronising way possible well done for that. I hope your medication helps you to help yourself, and im glad that Mr Awesome was already able to see a change, because its those small changes that really help us. You know that first time after you wake up and don’t feel like a zombie? thats such a huge thing. And I hope things only get better for you.

    Writing has been such a cathartic thing for me, its helped me so much to face my depression head on. Reading other peoples experiences has helped me realise im not alone 🙂

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