Will I have it in me to post this? Usually when I get really depressed I don’t talk about it here even though my blog is about the ups and downs of depression. I haven’t been completely honest. The last several months I have been going through one of the darker depressions, which is the reason I didn’t post for two months. Other than my kids, I don’t have anything to live for. That’s how it feels. Like I have no skin on. Every breath is raw and painful. I’m not sleeping, which in itself is brutal. Here is one of my sleep logs.
That part between 10 and 11 wasn’t sleep, I was listening to an audio book. And just when I was getting into a deep sleep around 5:00, my alarm went off and it was time to get up for work.
My doctor cancels appointments on his patients on a regular basis because he decides to take the day off and when he isn’t cancelling he has medical students. I have given up on him. Today I made an appointment with a new doctor but can’t get in until the end of the month. Last night, in desperation I called a crisis line and was put on hold before being told that I needed to call back because everyone was busy. The hospital is not an option. Wait times are in the hours and in the end I will be sent home with a prescription and I will still have to get up tomorrow and go to work. At least staying home ensures that I will sleep tonight, my only escape. Well, fragmented sleep but at least my bed feels safe. Safer.
This afternoon I wondered what it would be like to go downtown and jump off a bridge but reason held me back. I can’t do that to my kids. Right now, their presence is the only thing keeping me alive. And it’s torture. Love keeps me prisoner here.
It’s not getting to be too much. It is too much. Over the years I have been on every medication and mix of medications. They don’t work because medication doesn’t get rid of PTSD. That acronym. I hate it. So many have had it so much worse than me but my therapist would beg to differ. If I just stopped feeling sorry for myself. If I tried harder. If I could just snap out it. If I wasn’t so weak. If I was stronger. If I wasn’t such a complete waste of space. If I was smarter. If I was prettier. If I felt that I had something to offer the world. I wonder constantly what I am doing in this life or what I did in a previous life to deserve this. Karma, right?
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever get better or is this going to be how it ends for me. My grandma died of a stroke. My mom died of ovarian cancer. Maybe I will die as a result of a broken brain, a heart that can’t take another day of all the pain in this world.
Anyway, I am not going to do anything tonight. I am safe for now. Safe, but utterly alone.