it could be worse

Tuesday, 12/27/16, 1:15pm

Sometimes a day hits that feels nearly impossible to get through. Sometimes it's a few days in a row. And sometimes it feels like months.

These last many months have been very difficult. Adam died in May, which sucked and still sucks and will always suck to whatever extent. We've been changing medications around since like September, which hasn't been going all too well.

Nasser and I have been talking about my depression, and the course of it over the several years. Certain things about it have never felt acceptable, considering the treatment options out there, and the treatments I've tried, both medicinally and therapeutically. The level of low that I get, like intensity, the frequency of my lows. We've tried to look back on the various medications I've attempted and said to ourselves, "maybe that one did work better than I remember." To be honest, it's probably more me that's been doing this than us. I think Nasser would prefer that we look less at the past and keep trying to move forward.

I've been feeling super ashamed about my depression lately all the time. I thought it was helping me to be more honest about it, like with the blogging, but it's also super difficult and sometimes oftentimes just hurtful towards myself. I expect, or wish, for my depression to be treated more like physical illnesses. I expect people to be forward about their support, and many are. But the overwhelming silence is hard. That's the place that breeds me coming up for reasons for why that is. Do people just see me as the weak idiot who can't control her emotions, which is what I fear about myself constantly? Maybe responses of "get over it" and "stop feeling sorry for yourself" aren't any better since those totally accept the stigma that it's all my fault.

The effing stigma. The effing self-stigma. It's like depression, and especially suicide, would be less prevalent without the stupid effing stigma. And most people out there don't get it. If there's less stigma, how do those thoughts of "I'm just a burden to everyone around me" breed anyway? I really wonder what would happen to our world if we all stopped stigmatizing those with an illness, mental or physical?

Just. Fuck. Sometimes, it's just fuck. The world is fuck. The stigma is fuck. This day is fuck.

Excuse my language. Had to get that out though.

Also on top of the effing depression today, there's the sad business of people dying. Like Carrie Fisher. Ugh. Death sucks.

everyday (everyday) I try, and I try, and I try

Wednesday, 12/21/16, 8:57am

I am in a hole this morning. One of those stupid stupid holes that shouldn't be there, that should never have made me fall, there was no fucking good reason for it, and yet it happened.

I hate depression so much. You know, it really is not just a matter of "thinking positively" or powering through or whatever else you may be thinking. It's there and nothing seems to give relief these days. I try and I try and I try, and it doesn't work.

Imagine that the thoughts that occur in your brain can't be trusted. Imagine that you are expected to question every thought that pops in that head, and you're a failure if you trust the wrong thought. That's what it feels like to have depression, and really it may feel that way for most mental illnesses. Oftentimes, my brain will interpret something as hurtful, or judging, and I discover (or Nasser points it out to me) that the interpretation might be wrong, and I just cycle downward that much more. I discover that my brain has failed me again, that I have failed myself by not questioning those thoughts and I didn't stop myself from feeling hurt or sad or depressed by those thoughts, and yet again, I've been proven to be a failure.

A failure.

That is my hot thought, almost every time. And everything that I look at within myself seems to prove that thought more and more when I'm depressed.

Mindfulness is supposed to help. Cognitive behavioral therapy is supposed to help. Medications are supposed to help. Am I a failure because these things aren't helping enough? Because maybe I'm just not involved in my own mental health as I should be?

I don't know. I really don't know.

No.

It's not a failure because it's a disease. It's not a failure because my disease is likely "treatment resistant" at this point. It's not a failure.

I am trying. I've been trying. For a long. fucking. time.

And I guess I will keep trying. Forever and ever and ever even though that just sounds like a life sentence this morning.

I am not a failure.

Because I try. Because I care. Because I love. Because.

viumbe vyote vya mungu wetu

Friday, 12/09/16, 11:33am

I haven't written in over a week, and maybe that hasn't been the best choice, but it's also kinda just been the same old. Partially I don't feel like I have much to update. I still feel like I'm working hard to avoid those breakdowns, and I'm exhausted at the end of the night, every night. Maybe that's a side effect of all the medications.

Tonight and Sunday afternoon are choir concerts. RG and me. He is in one of the children's choirs; I am super proud of him. And I have a solo in these concerts. So kinda exciting. And kinda a big deal, but I haven't really been thinking about it much. Well that's not quite true. I have been practicing a lot, and I randomly burst into my solo to get another run-through. But until typing about it now, I've been avoiding the nerves. Crap, now I'm nervous. At least the Friday night concerts aren't as well attended. So maybe I'll feel more ready for it.

One of the hard things about this time of the year is all the social gatherings and plans and things to do. I'm having a difficult time being "social" right now, being peppy and happy and whatever else that's expected. We have a holiday party to attend tomorrow night, one where many of our favorite people in this area will be in attendance, but I'm finding myself with lots and lots of social anxiety. I missed several parties last weekend due to the hit of a bad day, and I'm already terrified that this weekend will be a repeat.

I'll do what I can. My biggest priority for this weekend is the choir concerts.

PS, y'all, since I think few who read my blog would guess the song on the post title. It's a tough one though. That line is my solo. It's Swahili.