What Happened?

So, ever since my last post things have been going downhill mentally for me. My positive affirmations aren’t helping, how are they supposed to when I’ve already let myself go down that slippery slope before I even wake up?

Those who know will understand, those who don’t, don’t be alarmed I’m not suicidal or whatever so chill, I’m just having a bad mental week. I thought that I would be able to follow these steps that are in this book, and then I would magically get and feel better. Turns out to not be so true. I can’t just insert things into the equation and solve it. It’s not that easy, I mean what did I expect?

I didn’t want to post this week. I didn’t want to put my rawest of moments out there for everyone to see. But, isn’t that the point? To be as vulnerable as I can be so that those who are going through the same thing have at least SOMEONE to relate to. So, here it is.

Have you ever woken up depressed? Depression is different than being sad and I think that days like these are where that line between Chronic Depression and Situational Depression is strongly drawn. I was having an AMAZING week mentally, and I was stoked that everything was working out. Saturday morning I wake up and I’m depressed. No, not sad. I had doven deep into the place I hate to be. I woke up hating myself, feeling worthless and helpless. What a way to wake up. What a horrible disease. No reason to be anywhere near depressed because I get to wake up every morning, roll over and see the love of my life smiling back at me every single day. And, Oh My God do I love it. I have a roof over my head and am even fortunate enough to have a sweet little dog to accompany us in this beautiful life we are building.

So why? Why brain?

I was off of my meds (hate that phrase, but it’s accurate). I stopped taking my Prozac in March (like an idiot) thinking I was fine. Just a little PSA here:

If you have gotten to the point where medicine is a part of your transition to a happier life, don’t stop taking them even if you feel better. Also, if you feel that this is an integral step to your happiness, then fucking do it. Don’t listen to everyone else, only you can really decide what’s best for you.

The stigma behind medicine needs to stop, and I will be the first to admit that I was totally against them until VERY recently. I can figure this out my own way. I can’t. It took working for a foster care agency seeing children be disappointed day by day by day by their shithead scum of the earth parents, me hiding my tears all day, crying at my desk or in the bathroom. I would come home and just fall. I would literally have to scrape myself out of bed. I was a mess. So I decided it was time for me to get my shit together, talk it out and get some medicine because I was done.

I’ve decided to FINALLY go talk to a counselor, and I’m very very excited about it. This is a very big step for me, because as long as I can remember I have refused to go. I’m nervous as all hell to talk to a stranger about all of my brain nonsense, but it’s going to help. I need to stop plaguing my family with things that they aren’t prepared to help me understand, which a therapist is. I think everyone should honestly go talk to a counselor, it’s supposedly very therapeutic. But, I wouldn’t know. I’ll let you all know how it goes. For now, I’m sorry that this post isn’t as positive or funny, but I’m here and I’m still moving forward.




2 thoughts on “What Happened?

  1. I wake up anxious. Actually anxious feels like the wrong word. Panicked. I wake up panicked in my warm bed, beside my kind and caring husband who helps me care for our 3 healthy children under the roof of our beautiful and safe house. Zero reason for panic. Less than zero if that’s a thing….but there you have it. I’m so panicked that I try to keep my eyes closed for as long as possible so I don’t have to face the thing that isn’t really there. I’m getting so good at this that I can sometimes do it all morning. When I finally work up the courage to face it, then…then I feel depressed because I’ve lost so much time for no reason. I repeat this over and over and over and over. Day after day. Year after year. So I hear you chicka…I hear you…even if I can’t see you because I’m hiding my eyes from something that isn’t there…


  2. Our brains have a way of remapping, its called neural plasticity. The physical connections in our brains change over time to mimic stability, to adapt to stimuli and make them seem…the norm. It helps us overcome stressors, and navigate new obstacles. But this ability is also a curse. It solidifies chronic ways of thinking and feeling. It is fundamental in causing chemical dependence. It is why, even though we have amazing days, weeks, or months….we can still wake up and be utterly crushed by the ghost of our depression.
    It won’t go away, but as long as you stay driven and focused, you can retrain your brain to be positive for you.
    On the days where our darkness resurfaces, you have to viciously oppose it. Hungrily seek out beauty. Look for it in the smallest places and (even if no feeling of joy is there) take time to appreciate it, just to spite the sadness. You’d be amazed how easily one can be swept up in the brilliant shine of a single dew drop. The moss blanketing a stone. The hot white sun casting beams through the clouds at dawn.
    When the darkness comes back, lose yourself in the music of rustling leaves. The kindness of a smile. The satisfaction of even the most regular meal. Don’t just drink something, feel the cold water on your tongue. Savor it.
    Doing these things daily is probably ill advised. Other humans might give you strange looks if they see you acting out Fiji water commercials during lunch. But when our old poison rears its head again, sometimes going a little over the top to enjoy something, can be a lot of fun.


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