I had a bad day
It's a bad day - and it's only 12:06. I've been up since 10.
Today I'm depressed and don't want to go anywhere or do anything but lay in bed and sleep or watch TV. At least I have the energy to watch TV.
I have these hopeless feelings again. I can't make them go away. Just when I think my med is working I get these feelings again. My brain is sick and it has taken all of me with it.
I have to go to dance practice. You have no idea how badly I want to stay home. I want to curl up and not deal with anyone for at least a couple days. I also don't want to go to the dance this evening because the people who keep me going and are my solid pillars won't be there. I won't have any pillars to lean on and it's scaring the crap out of me.
Somewhere around here is a piece I wrote after the last funeral I went to. I was working the table at the dance and I wrote it. Now if I could just find it, I would type it up and post it here.
I found it, so here it is:
"I have this one sheet of paper to write down everything I'm feeling.
I went to Troy's visitation ~ they had a wonderful slide show of photos with music. I want that at my funeral. I found this mega church on the west side of Madison, and maybe - if it's not too weird, my funeral could be there.
Kyle was there and he's being admitted as I write this. I know I have a lung infection ~ I feel it, but it would break my heart to have to do IVs again so soon.
Is it bad I'd rather be at home typing and reading Heather's blog than here dealing with UWMBDA and people who don't get me?
At Troy's visitation - talking with Kyle I felt like I always feel when I'm with CFers - I feel like I belong, that finally someone understands.
There are just so many reasons I want to cry - my heart feels so broken. And mostly I'm upset about my own lungs which is horribly selfish."
Those were my thoughts that evening. It turned out I didn't have a lung infection - I was feeling sick because of a thing called Depression. Maybe you've heard of it?
I wrote that before I was able to admit to myself that I was depressed, and all those horrible feelings, well I guess they are still around, but maybe a little less intense.
It's almost getting to the point where I have good days and bad days - but it's more like I have good hours and bad hours. Sitting in the sun, writing in my blog, reading blogs, watching TV - those are good hours. Trying to get out of bed, trying to shower, trying to eat so I don't lose any more weight - those are bad hours. Dealing with people I don't completely trust because there's no way they understand what this depression is like? Bad hours. Hanging out with the wonderful people who support me whether they understand or not? Good hours.
I'm afraid that dance today is going to be bad hours. I don't feel like getting out of a chair and moving from here to the kitchen, let alone getting out of a chair, driving to dance and then actually dancing. Yeah. Friggin. Right.
But I'll go, and if I can't pretend to be happy or I'm so miserable I want to cry, I'll come home and sit in bed and watch movies for the rest of the evening.
God, I really don't want to do this.
Today I'm depressed and don't want to go anywhere or do anything but lay in bed and sleep or watch TV. At least I have the energy to watch TV.
I have these hopeless feelings again. I can't make them go away. Just when I think my med is working I get these feelings again. My brain is sick and it has taken all of me with it.
I have to go to dance practice. You have no idea how badly I want to stay home. I want to curl up and not deal with anyone for at least a couple days. I also don't want to go to the dance this evening because the people who keep me going and are my solid pillars won't be there. I won't have any pillars to lean on and it's scaring the crap out of me.
Somewhere around here is a piece I wrote after the last funeral I went to. I was working the table at the dance and I wrote it. Now if I could just find it, I would type it up and post it here.
I found it, so here it is:
"I have this one sheet of paper to write down everything I'm feeling.
I went to Troy's visitation ~ they had a wonderful slide show of photos with music. I want that at my funeral. I found this mega church on the west side of Madison, and maybe - if it's not too weird, my funeral could be there.
Kyle was there and he's being admitted as I write this. I know I have a lung infection ~ I feel it, but it would break my heart to have to do IVs again so soon.
Is it bad I'd rather be at home typing and reading Heather's blog than here dealing with UWMBDA and people who don't get me?
At Troy's visitation - talking with Kyle I felt like I always feel when I'm with CFers - I feel like I belong, that finally someone understands.
There are just so many reasons I want to cry - my heart feels so broken. And mostly I'm upset about my own lungs which is horribly selfish."
Those were my thoughts that evening. It turned out I didn't have a lung infection - I was feeling sick because of a thing called Depression. Maybe you've heard of it?
I wrote that before I was able to admit to myself that I was depressed, and all those horrible feelings, well I guess they are still around, but maybe a little less intense.
It's almost getting to the point where I have good days and bad days - but it's more like I have good hours and bad hours. Sitting in the sun, writing in my blog, reading blogs, watching TV - those are good hours. Trying to get out of bed, trying to shower, trying to eat so I don't lose any more weight - those are bad hours. Dealing with people I don't completely trust because there's no way they understand what this depression is like? Bad hours. Hanging out with the wonderful people who support me whether they understand or not? Good hours.
I'm afraid that dance today is going to be bad hours. I don't feel like getting out of a chair and moving from here to the kitchen, let alone getting out of a chair, driving to dance and then actually dancing. Yeah. Friggin. Right.
But I'll go, and if I can't pretend to be happy or I'm so miserable I want to cry, I'll come home and sit in bed and watch movies for the rest of the evening.
God, I really don't want to do this.
Comments
I'm not a CFer, so I know I can't even imagine, let alone relate to what you're feeling. But I had to comment, just so you'd know that somebody somewhere cares and feels for you.
It does help when you're down to get out. I think you should go. I won't be there to dance or talk with you, but go anyway. Yes, it might suck. That's the chance we take every day.