Depression Hurts

Yup it sure does.  Many of you have read it in my posts, and have heard from me that I have been severely depressed for a little over a year.  I have suffered from it off and on my whole life, but could normally kick it aside with a little effort and time.  This last year and a half however it took it's heaviest toll on me. I have found myself paralyzed from it.

A lot of people do not understand depression. My husband being one of them. He says he doesn't understand it. Like how I tell how I feel. He does not understand why I would feel that way. So I am going to do my best to describe it.

I have good and bad days. Most of the day last Sunday was a good day. I felt well enough and with enough energy to get some cleaning done and make cookies for my sweet bear. Today is a good day, I have been able to stay awake and play with bears.

Bad days feel like I am trapped in the dark, that a cloud follows me everywhere. I cannot find positive in anything, and gloom surrounds me. I feel exhausted all the time. I go to sleep tired and wake up even more tired. I am so tired in fact that sometimes I cannot even keep my eyes open. I wake up bright and early with Baby bear and make sure he is all set up and give him food to eat. I change him and make sure he is good to go. Then as I feel like I am fading I lay down on the couch and fade in and out while my bear sits on me and plays for a while. I never truly fall asleep as I am aware of Bears playing, but I am unable to keep my eyes open.  I in no way think this okay, and hate and despise myself for doing it. I have tried drinking caffeine soda, even tried drinking coffee which is just plain nasty but I can't stay awake. I have tried doing activities to keep me awake, but find that keeping my eyes open is nearly impossible. I even tried driving to the park one day, and as I sat at the picnic table watching Bears play I was falling asleep.  I stopped reading books for almost a year. And I adore reading. I haven't crafted anything in months because I cannot find any joy in it. I haven't even been in my favorite store Hobby Lobby because I can't justify driving all the way to Temecula when I know I won't find anything fun to do. And most likely I will spend money on a project I won't do for ages, so I find no point.   Food is such a vice. I find I don't have energy to stand in the kitchen long and make a big meal sine Baby Bear won't eat it, and so I end up grabbing something easy that isn't very healthy and makes me gain weight which adds to my depression. It is such a vicious cycle.

I cannot see a light at the end of the tunnel, I cannot see this getting better, and that in turn adds to my depression. My body aches, I have no energy, and fear going into public. This month alone I haven't even sold any scentsy at all. Social outings I normally cancel because I can't make myself go. No one wants to talk to the sad fat girl, and I find I cannot relate to anyone. I have nothing to talk about to others. I don't call people because I cannot find a topic besides a simple question.  I don't attend friends events and send Papa Bear and Baby Bear in my place figuring no one will really notice I am not there.  I have to really fight with myself to get out of the house 3 times a week for Bear's Speech Therapy and Dr. appointments. I would much rather hide at home than go out.

Cleaning the house is an overwhelming task. I feel so hopeless from it and it makes my depression so much worse that I cannot get things done or even get a handle on it. I am to embarrassed to let a maid come in and do it, and so it adds to the cycle of my depression. Everything seems to feed it and so it is just a huge cycle that I cannot break.

Poor Baby Bear's has been such a huge trooper. He hangs with his Mama and helps me through my days. He is my little anchor in all of this.  His medical problems add to my depression and anxiety, and it worries me so very much. I wish I could help him but  nothing we (his doctors and us) do helps.  But his bright little smile helps me through the hard days.

Last week was a terrible week. My Dr. put me on a new medication to give me a boost of energy and help me out. Instead it landed me in the hospital with a severe anxiety attack that was so debilitating. I couldn't seem to catch my breath or stop crying. I was fidgety and really anxious.  I dropped Bear's off with his Papa at work so he could take him to speech therapy. I called my Dr.'s but got no reply so I drove myself crying to the Camp Pendleton Naval Hospital because I knew I needed help and was having a severe reaction.  I waited and waited to be seen by someone because I didn't have an appointment. Finally someone saw me. She was really nice but told me she couldn't help me because I am normally seen by an outside provider. So she called that Dr. and wasn't able to get through. She told me to go home and wait for a call from my Dr. at around 4:30 p.m. She told me to call her if I needed anything. REALLY?!!! I was needing help then.She was going to give me her number but then told me that she would call me the next day. (she never did) I drove crying to my Dr.'s hoping for some kind of help. I went to the receptionist and was reminded that I do not have an appointment. As tears were rolling down my face I told the receptionist that I was having a bad reaction to my med and was trying my hardest to keep my shit together and needed to speak to my Dr.!!! She got the hint! My Dr. took one look at me and told me I needed to go to the hospital. If I was a danger to myself then I would be handcuffed and taken to the hospital to be admitted. I chose to go myself. As fun as a handcuffed ride in a cop car sounds I chose to not take that route. Of course I can't harm myself. I cannot abandon my Bear. But I want so badly for it all to just end and go away.

I drove myself home crying the whole way. Papa Bear came home and him and Bears took me to a different hospital. They questioned me, assured me I wold be admitted and took some tests. They put me in a room and told me to strip down and put on a hospital gown. (Really? Why?) I put on the gown and sat and waited and waited. A Dr. came to see me and as I cried he told me it was just a reaction and it would get out of my system. I felt like screaming at him ARE YOU FLIPPING KIDDING ME?!!! After that I put some of my clothes back on under my gown. no one noticed. He had another Dr. come in an hour later and we talked for about half an hour. I cried and cried. I was fidgeting and anxious. She told me she didn't want to admit me but to keep seeing my current Dr. for care.  At 9 p.m. I was released. When I read my paperwork from the hospital it appeared they thought I was on drugs and ran an entire drug panel on me. And even though it all came back negative they weren't taking me seriously.  Thanks folks! Like it isn't hard enough and humiliating enough to ask for help and admit something is wrong.....but multiple people won't help?!!!!!! So I went home where the rest of the week I struggled severely.

So here I am. I want my friends to understand why I have withdrawn.  This once spunky cheerleader is now quiet and struggling.

Talk to you all soon

XoXo- Mama Bear