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That’s how much sleep I got last night/this morning.   I was SO wide awake, all these thoughts running thru my head for how I could clean the house but not enough drive to do any of it.  I knew I didn’t have the energy (despite being awake) to clean house at 3am so I just laid on the couch watching movies.

I’m more awake today but not exactly feeling “right”.    IYKWIM.

Besides that, Anxiety is a muck.     You know I didn’t really understand what it meant to have anxiety until recently.   I had actually been asked if I have anxiety by doctors before and I always said absolutely not.   But it’s so clear to me now and maybe it’s because I’m living alone and I’m more scared of things and my worries are heightened that I’m noticing it.

I also read/heard that anxiety is what makes you immediately think that doom is right around the corner.   I didn’t put 2 and 2 together, I thought that was just how I am.   Always thinking my kids are inches away from harm no matter where they go.  That my house will get broken into at night.  That if I go out when I normally don’t go out, that something bad will happen to me on the road.   I can get so scared at night now.

But anyway..   with only 2 hours of sleep I was actually functioning after I got to work.   But I’m afraid I might be fizzling now.  I was just in a meeting where after 25 minutes I started staring.  Couldn’t keep shit in focus and I was staring at the numbers on the phone.  Thank god there was nothing for me to say in there.   It’s hard to snap myself out of that when I go into those trances.   It’s embarrassed me before.   “.. <mumble mumble in the distance>… Tania?! “  Huh, what?  And all eyes are on me waiting for me to answer and I have no clue what the the question or topic of conversation is.    It’s embarrassing.  It does wonders for my self esteem too because of course the little voice in my head has to start saying “they all think you’re stupid”.

So I’ve felt a renewed interest in blogging here.  (As it usually happens).  I’m just not exactly sure wtf is up with the last couple posts and why I felt so defensive and angry and all that.  That is why I normally don’t act or talk when I’m feeling that way.  I always end up regretting it in some way later.

I’m not sure I regret it tho.   I do regret that it doesn’t make sense to me …yet.   That’s what Dr. S has me thinking about now.   WTF is up with my blog and why the fuck I blog in public things that I don’t want people to know.  Do I want people to know?  or not?   And why do I get angry over it.   But then there’s my private one.  What’s up with tha?  And why doesn’t it work?

There.  More shit out in the open that I don’t want people to know.   Not comfortable with rss feeds to FB either, so that’s gone.

So today was my first day back on my normal shift and it was not easy.   I had been dreading today all weekend  ….having to come out in the daylight and pretend.  I found it hard to describe to Dr. S what it was I was dreading.  I don’t know why it was so hard to find the word for it, when it was so clear in my head and I had said it before.   To fake it.   Every smile and nod would have been forced, every word coming from my mouth would be fake.  And a lot of it was.  Even when I had a 2 sentence convo with K about anti-depressants, it sounded fake.  I sounded to myself as if I was trivializing something that was so big in my life right now.

Between 8am and 2pm, I was like a zombie.  Their words, not mine.  R even made a joke about having seen me move so I must be awake because he thought maybe I was really asleep (with my eyes open).   That didn’t bother me.   I was angry most of the morning, but not at any of them.   I was just angry.   And it was too hard to talk so I didn’t.    And I may have been rude when I didn’t answer when spoken to directly, but I just couldn’t.

It was a good thing that I didn’t have any drive to talk for the first few hours at work anyway because anything out of my mouth would have been FAKE (pretending not to be angry) which always does wonders for my self esteem.  Because I must be pathetic if I feel I can’t express myself as I am, right?   But then if the words out of my mouth had been ANGRY, they would not have been received well, nor did I want to deal with the repercussions of being an ass at work.

Speaking of being an ass, I think I snapped at Dr. S two weeks ago.  I’m not sure if it came out that way, I tried to mask it with humor, but I was really angry and I think he noticed because he stopped in his tracks and took a long time to respond.   I’m tired of being angry all the time.  Or down all the time.   I wanted him to tell me to go on meds, but of course he wouldn’t.   Other then always asking if I had been on them, which kindof pisses me off.  But when I finally said (twice) that I wanted to see the nurse he said “I think it’s a good idea”.   Jesus, why is it so fucking hard to tell me what you think I should do regarding meds.  I dunno, maybe there’s some therapist code of ethics that says he can’t recommend it or something.   But that’s not even what I snapped about.

So I got the number to the meds nurse lady that works at the place he does.   I called and asked for an appointment yesterday.  She called today and gave it to me.  Friday.  So friday I will more than likely get a prescription for meds.  But I’m still not sure how quickly I’ll get that filled.   I still don’t feel good about depending on some stupid pills to cope with my fucken life.

I think I understood something with the last visit tho.  I’m still mulling it over but it answers a big question for me.    That man is good.  And even when I thought he was reaching the end of his usefulness in the last 2 weeks, he said something (or maybe I just decided to listen this time) that is making me think.  So I’m still thinking about it.

So at 2pm today I started to feel halfway human again.   I came home, still struggled not to lose my temper and be a bitch mother, but I had enough drive to throw out the bathroom trash, sweep a tiny bit, and ‘fix’ the goddamned vacuum cleaner.    It’s fixed goddamnit after all these months.  And I don’t use the term ‘goddamn’ often because I was taught in 4th grade that it was using the lord’s name in vain.  Why that has stuck with me so many years I have no goddamned clue because I’m not exactly a goddamned believer anyway.  Goddamnit.

Jada, blabbing over a bowl of cereal.

“Maya, you need to go to baby coloring school.  That way you’ll learn to color correctly.”

“Maya, when you go to kindergarten, Ms. Stevicks is going to say ‘ooooh! we have a new visitOR!!’.”

“Maya, you can do it.  You’ll learn everything you need to know at school.”

1) To lay out my thoughts so I can look at them months or years later

2) To make sense of my feelings

3) To get things off my chest

4) To express myself

5) To keep a record of happenings in my life especially when talking about my kids’ milestones.

There may be an active comments section, but it’s not meant to be an interactive forum.  It’s one way.   I may sometimes want feedback and I may sometimes welcome feedback, but it’s not what I expect to get.  If I did, I would have stopped blogging a long time ago.   I rarely get comments as it is anyway and I’m OK with that.   I don’t usually want to have a discussion about things I write.

I may sound like an ass for saying that, but like my disclaimer says on my About page, if you don’t like it, then don’t read it.

I just miss the days when I could open up completely on my blog in whatever way that I wanted, without having to have a discussion about it on the side either in person or over email.

I keep a private blog I’ve started using again and while there are things I say there that I can’t say anywhere else anyway, it also involves a different kind of writing and a different kind of thought process.  Maybe knowing that what I’m writing has to make sense if someone might be reading it, is what makes the big difference here.  I can’t count the times that writing on this blog has done one of two things for me.   1) resolved the issue completely in my head for me, or 2) figured out exactly what it is I feel about something and what I should do about it.    As I’ve discovered in the last few months, an understanding of what I’m actually feeling and why, is lacking in my life.  Probably because I’ve stopped blogging about what’s going on in my life.

While I’m on the subject, I feel certain key people in my life right now won’t understand, don’t want to understand, or are just incapable of understanding me right now or ever.  And beyond letting my thoughts out on “paper”, I just don’t have the energy to explain anything more to people.    Maybe one day, when I’m feeling better I’ll be able to come back and rehash.   But not now.

My last post here was private.   I re-read it and I’m not sure why I made it private.   If I was feeling halfway-human at the time I probably would have made it public.   I think I needed to be depressed and miserable in private or something.  But whatever…

So the past 2 weeks have really been hard for me.   I have been holding on precariously to NOT sinking back into my black hole of full blown depression for so long.   And I think that working the night schedule and not getting enough sleep has broken down whatever strength or facade I had keeping me afloat.    I think the fact that it’s all it took to break me down says a lot about how close I’ve been to the edge.   I can tell people till I’m blue in the face how I’m feeling and how I’m just living life how I’m expected to, but not because I feel any true, lasting pleasure.   But nobody can understand unless their living it.

I don’t think I’ve been able to get ahead because my energies are focused on not moving backwards.  I have none left over to move ahead.   My therapist said this to me a few weeks back, but I’m not sure I got it.  I just remembered it again.  And its true.  For a while after D moved out I was making a lot of effort, and it felt like I was making progress.  But all the while feeling the depression.   I think my rocket boosters burned out somewhere along the way.   It was like a starvation diet that backfires.

My house is a wreck again, I’m right back to snapping at my kids and being anxious about everything, I’m right back to not being able to do the normal daily tasks people do.   And quite frankly, I’m back to feeling like a useless waste of space at home and at work.  If I were to write all the things I feel of myself here, I’d probably get a barrage of sympathy.

I don’t want sympathy, I don’t want words of encouragement, I don’t want people telling me their stories.  I don’t want private emails from people either.  Because I just don’t care.   Like I don’t care about anything else.   Or myself.

So I think I might have to go back on anti-depressants soon.   I can’t live this way forever.  If I did, I’d just be ruining my kids lives.  I’d be doomed to a failed marriage.  And I’d lose my own job.  And frankly I think I’d be better off not living at all.

I understand how it is that people can snap and do things that end up on the front page of newspapers.    I’m just lucky I still have most of my marbles and I am a master of self restraint AND I’m pretty good at masking things and keeping myself out of trouble at work.  Even my own husband doesn’t know what goes on in my head.

So what’s been going on in my head?   Turmoil.  Anger.  Hopelessness.  Emptiness.  Intrusive Thoughts.  More Anger.

Yes, depression is a mental illness, but I don’t need to hear about how it’s “normal”.  Because it’s not.   Illness != Normal.   So fuck you, and fuck everyone.    And for the record I don’t give a shit about being “normal”, I just want to be happy.

Oh, man…  If I could take a month or two off to just be depressed I would.  I need a break from the light versus dark battles I have all the time with myself.  It’s exhausting.  So I’d like to just give in to the darkness and let my bed suck me down into a big black hole so I can just rest.