Ups and Downs

I'm a pretty black and white, right or wrong kind of girl.  I was absolutely drowning when I finally started my intensive treatment at Rogers Memorial.  I hadn't even realized how far gone I was.  I had such a poor awareness of anything that I sort of believed I would go through treatment and be done.  I somehow believed that by doing therapy six hours a day five days a week I would "kick" this depression.  Silly me. 

I was admitted to the hospital exactly two months ago.  While I have a much better awareness of what goes on with me, what I should and shouldn't listen to in my own mind, and what I need to do when I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'm still so depressed.  I have outbursts throughout the day where I declare that I'm going to be better.  I'm going to get up and do all the things I've been staring at for hours (or days).  I'm going to wake up early, look forward to the new day and be content.  And every day I seem to wake up exhausted, wishing I didn't have to face the morning, much less the whole day.  

It's definitely getting better.  My baseline is no longer hysterical crying, but instead I'm quite numb.  Numb is not a safe place for me.  Numb turns into hours lost, days lost.  Numb is what I'm fighting at the moment.  I hate the inner battle that is my instinct suggesting I go to bed and just be done with this day and my mind knowing that that's not the way to handle how I'm feeling.  I am exhausting.