Last week, depression decided to show up more than it usually does. My mind slowed down and it went to That Very Dark Place. I was overwhelmed with no relief in sight.
I was trying to pull it together because I had a Big Work Thing at the end of the week, but trying to keep myself safe sucked almost all of my brain power and energy. Not only that, all of that effort was creating a giant mountain of stress that I had to deal with. I couldn’t get anything done, and I was most definitely not happy about it.
Then I had a thought.
I don’t have time for this shit.
I texted my mom to come stay with me in order to relieve some of the stress. I texted my appropriate mental health people to let them know that there was something very not right going on (which resulted in a flurry of text messages that will eventually result in yet another med change after they all talk to each other about my brain).
And then I got back to work.
That’s not to say the epic internal battle suddenly subsided, but I was able to compartmentalize it and not “worry” about it. I knew regardless of what my brain was telling me, I was safe. I still felt miserable and relatively hopeless, but I was slightly more functional.
Sara told me last week that she knows that I might not really be feeling much better than when I started seeing her some 8 months ago. She told me she knows the medication is frustrating, and is probably not helping me like it should.
She also told me that she thinks that I’m learning to manage all of this, even though I don’t necessarily feel better. When I relayed the “I don’t have time for this shit” moment to her, she told me that I’m strong and dealing with these things the best way I can right now. She tried to give me back the hope I had all but lost the day before.
It is my “I don’t have time for this shit” attitude that has gotten me this far. It is the thing that pushes me through the dark moments the majority of the time. Hopefully I don’t ever lose it.
And as for that Big Work Thing? I totally killed it.