The end of last week things took a bad turn. I think partially it was hormones, and probably also my brain chemistry is doing wacky things with the med changes. Plus the let down/afters associated with Mark's birthday weekend and his actual birthday on Tuesday.
Whatever the cause, on Thursday I started slipping back into moving-through-mud mode. I also slipped back into sugar. The depression feeds the sugar addiction; the sugar addiction feeds the depression.
The depression is pretty bad again. This morning I made an appointment to go see the acupuncture doctor on Friday. It worked last year. I'm praying it can work again.
He's also a psychiatrist and I'm going to ask him to talk to me about my meds. My health insurance doesn't cover mental health costs, so this is all out of pocket (which sucks).
I wear a happy face at work and in social situations (which I'm frankly avoiding as much as possible); I am mostly miserable at home and not pleasant to be around (my poor husband...he gets the brunt of it). I am still functioning and taking care of the kids and the house. But it's very hard for me to interact with my husband or kids with grace or kindness. They get on my nerves and I'm impatient if they don't do what I ask when I ask it, or if they do it wrong, or if they make a mess, or if they talk too loud. See what I mean? Not pleasant to live with.
I feel very fragile, like I could break at any minute. It's awful.
I got through yesterday by repeating to myself "just do the next thing." I focused on one task at a time. I did that task. I got through the work day.
Then I picked up kids and got home and mowed the grass. I avoided mowing the grass all weekend because I didn't have the energy. I didn't have it last night either. But I just did the next thing; I got into a zone with music in my ears and seeing immediate results of a nice lawn from my efforts.
And then my son came out and interrupted me. Twice. Then my husband came out and interrupted me. Twice. And I got impatient and upset with them both. I was angry that they couldn't leave me alone for one freaking hour. It was not a normal response--it was the emotional response of a woman on the edge of losing it.
It's not just the brain chemicals causing the problem--I need more time to myself and need to exercise to clear my head. But I have to have the mental energy to exercise, which I haven't. And I have to have a husband who can keep the kids for a couple of hours, which I haven't (he's been working a lot and his quitting time is often unpredictable).
Mondays and Thursdays are supposed to be my nights off (in the grand scheme of our family schedule, anyway--it rarely happens). Last Thursday I had planned to go running or take a yoga class. Mark worked until almost 7. I was cooked by then. I told him the kids were all his, and I went in the bedroom, shut the door, and watched TV and read a book. I was alone for about 2 hours, but I was stewing and couldn't give myself what I really needed. What I really needed was to have gone running at 4:30 like I'd planned, and not expended the remaining energy I had on kids and dinner and been totally spent by 7 pm.
I hate this. I hate feeling like just giving up. I hate living in the past and wishing for my 38 year old body back. I hate whining. I hate that flat feeling I have on the inside--like I'm numb, or like the air is made of mud and my limbs have to slog through it.
I know this is biochemical. I know it's not normal. I know it is temporary. I know there are things I can do to make it better. But it has been going on for months and I'm really, really, really sick of it.
All I can do right now is the next thing.