Tough Day

Yesterday was a tough day.  By the end of the day I was barely holding it together.  I've been sinking slowly into a depression, feeling the water creeping up over my chin, and I suffered a loss yesterday that took me completely by surprise and almost did me in.  I'm keeping my nose above water, barely, but even the smallest wave can feel overwhelming.

To top that off, my son's school called me to schedule an SST (Student Success Team) meeting.  I've been expecting it all year, and was actually surprised that it took so long.  I know that most of his behavior issues stem from not getting enough time and positive attention from his parents, so the meeting was just another reminder of how I'm not doing enough.

I do not have what he needs to help him through this.  I know he's starving for attention from us, but just the thought of giving him one more ounce makes me cringe.  I have many great ideas on how to fix this problem, but no energy to do them.  And when I think about doing these things every day, or every week, I feel like crawling into bed and staying there forever.  I don't think I have anything left to give.

It would be ever so helpful if the sun would come out and stay out.  Why am I freezing in the middle of May?

On the bright side, I did sign a new part-time child yesterday.  On the downside it will require working until 6:00 or 6:30 pm at least once or twice a month.

I am doing better today, though.  I did my 15 minute workout, even though I didn't want to.  My husband got up early to make breakfast for my son as was suggested by the SST, which was nice.  Tonight we'll try another suggestion they made.  I guess we'll see how long that lasts.

Long time...

Has it really been since Thanksgiving that I last posted? I deserved the nudge, Frank! Thanks.

I've been avoiding writing because I can't think of anything positive to say. Not wanting to appear the malcontent that I naturally am, I decided to refrain altogether.

But a little birdie told me that the occasional lapse in my recovery is acceptable, so here goes.

I've been feeling really low since Vauna's death. I really feel like I'm an emotional zombie. I have nothing going on inside, and honestly, I don't like it. I seem to be getting better and better at repressing emotion, to the point that it's no longer a choice, but just a natural reflex.

It hasn't been too long since I last held back by choice, or let loose on a lonely drive. But lately? Nothing. And I have to admit to sinking into a bit of depression. I think the holidays contribute to that, though.

It's not a good time to be depressed, let me tell you! There's a ton of things that need to happen in the month of December, and this year especially I can't afford to be moping around, pissing my days away! My business is struggling, my thesis needs writing, my records need to be updated for year-end tax prep, and Christmas needs all the attention that Christmas generally takes. Definitely not the time to be hiding my head under the covers.

So I made an appointment to see a therapist a week from Monday. I've seen a couple in the past with unfavorable results, but this lady came well recommended, so I'm willing to try it again. I'm hoping that she can help me figure out where my problem lies. I'll let you know how it goes.

Depressed...

I've been in a slump lately. I've always struggled with cyclical depression, and I guess its my time. I've been blah. I don't have the luxury of staying in bed all day, but I do the next best thing. I'm doing only as much as I need to do to get by. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything is just a few days behind schedule, a little sloppier than it should be.

Hence the lack of posts. For the last couple of months I haven't had it in me to write unless I absolutely feel compelled to. Even then, I've let half of those slip away.

I've been down the anti-depressant route. I've tried a few, settling on the one with the least side affects. I took that for a little over a year before letting it go. It didn't have bad side affects, but it didn't seem to be making much of a difference either. I don't think anyone really noticed when I stopped taking them, so I guess they weren't as effective as they should have been.

I don't know why I get into these slumps. I keep telling myself I don't have time for them. I have so much on my plate, and adding more every day. I work with kids, and they are the ones that lose when I don't feel like doing all the fun stuff that makes the day interesting for them.

I really don't know how to combat this. I feel like I'm watching myself being glum and sour, and telling myself to snap out of it, but without the desire to really do anything more. I feel like I'm letting my life slip through my fingers in large chunks. What a waste.

Postpartum Depression

I just finished reading an old blog posting by Penelope Trunk about postpartum depression.  She described the depression she experienced after her second child, and how she still had to maintain a normal life and work through it as she was the sole income provider for her family.

As she told her story I was struck by the fact that so few people really understand depression of any kind, but especially postpartum.  And even more troubling is that so few people recognize it, even in their closest friends and family.

I suffered from postpartum depression, however I didn't realize what was wrong until it was over.  I did a pretty good job (I think) of getting through my day, doing my job, and making sure the necessary things were done.  I don't know anyone who can get away with giving in to depression, wallowing, and staying in bed.  I have heard that some do, and this is how they recognize they are depressed.  However, I don't know anyone who can afford that luxury.

So how do you know you have a problem?  There are plenty of stories told of women no one would have guessed were having problems until they did something violent.

For me, I knew I was depressed.  Or, I thought I did.  I knew I wasn't functioning at my normal efficiency or ambition levels.  I knew I wasn't giving 100% to my job, or my family.  But I was getting by.  I knew I wasn't myself, but I didn't know what to do about it.  I mean, life and circumstances change.  This could just be the new me.  I don't think anyone would have been any the wiser if I hadn't started talking about wanting to die, at which point my sister-in-law kindly convinced a therapist to see me.

The therapy didn't last (she was terrible), so I tried anti-depressants, which helped by dulling all of my emotions.  When I got tired of being a semi-zombie, I quit taking them.

I can't say how long it lasted really, until one day I realized I had my ambition back and was again ready to try expanding my horizons.

I don't know the answer to this problem.  But I do sympathize with every woman who is working through this alone, in silence, because what else can you do?  You are doing no less than what is expected.  Every day you are required to get out of bed, go to work, come home, feed your family, clean up, and fall into bed at night without complaint.  Who cares that your feet are dragging, you are full of anger, resentment, and sadness, and you just want to cry all the time?  I feel for that woman.