Hovering

I'm hovering just below the surface of okay and just above the depths of disaster.  It's my very own purgatory.  I go through spurts where I stay in bed for hours and then get up and "accomplish" for hours.  This is where it started for me before.  Things look fine from the outside, but I'm struggling every moment on the inside.

I'm aware of it this time, whereas before I just felt out of control.  I know that when my mind starts to spin in circles, it's okay to just let that drift around me, that I won't be able to sort it out and solve it all.  At the same time, I am questioning every thing that I do again.  Am I too lax with my kids' behavior?  Is my house unreasonably messy?  Did I spend two days in bed because I was really that sick or was it an excuse not to have to live that day?  What else should I be doing?

Every time I give myself a break, I think it's related to strength.  I'm too lazy to parent my kids better.  A better person would keep a better house.  Three years ago, when I was working my ass off, I wouldn't have taken two days off of work; I've gotten soft.  I do nothing anymore.

I'm back there.  I do have some cognizance, so it's not so dire yet, but it's pretty devastating to be here again and so soon after things looked so bright.  (Dialog in my head:  "Maybe you're just moody.  If you just made a little more effort, you could be back there.  Nothing has changed, just stop mooning over yourself."  Sigh.)

Those days

There are always those days where you think you have it together.  Then you go through moments of chaos and think you've fallen apart completely.  The aftermath is unknown.  On the one hand, you've always known what is rational.  On the other hand, what feels rational feels crazy, in the moment.

So tonight I am grateful for those brave souls that listen to what's really happening, honestly reflect and let me be on my way.  Friends are amazing .

Patching the Cracks

Yesterday, I succumbed to a very, very dark mood.  I felt like there were cracks in the foundation of my recovery.  Well, today I'm patching those cracks.

One of the hardest things for me when I was in the depths of my depression was not slipping deeper day after day.  So, my first step I'm taking with my mind over matter attitude is to fight that with everything I've got.  I got up today and went to yoga.  As often seems to happen, when you take one happy step forward, happy things follow.  I was greeted warmly by my yoga teacher training instructor and reminded that training starts in only two weeks!  I came home to sort through my Wildtree order and prep for my three parties this weekend and was reminded that I really enjoy doing this and that it's going rather well.  Then I got an email in my inbox for a class I'm taking through Coursera called Soul Beliefs:  Causes and Consequences.  I figure the best way to figure out my life is to immerse myself in rediscovering it on all fronts.

I'm filling my recently empty and broken life back up with teacher training, work, Wildtree, learning, staying at home with my loves.  Filling up feels really, really good this time around.  I haven't enjoyed my down time nearly as much as I do when I'm busy.  So, busy is a good step for me.  I just have to make sure I'm busy with the right things and I feel like I'm on the right path to succeed at that goal.

So there's a little sunshine after yesterday's stormy day.

Cracks

My children just snuck into my office and apologized for jumping on their beds.  See, I'm in here sobbing after I shouted at them and slammed the door and they think it's their fault.  I asked them to stop jumping on their beds and they ignored me.  Then I raised my voice.  Then I shouted as loud as I could.  Then I gave up, told them to do whatever they wanted and slammed the door.  This is not the reaction of a mother who has it together.  This is the reaction of someone who is still broken, still marred by depression.  They think it's their fault.

I was short with them all day, all week really.  It's like I don't know what to do with myself if they won't listen the first time.  I used to be patient and creative.  I used to talk to them until I was sure they heard me.  Now I scream thinking that the neighbors must be hearing me too.

I want to be better so badly.  That's why I'm crying.  It's not because I yelled once.  It's not even because I yelled all day.  It's because I don't want them to remember this version of me as who their mom is.  I don't want this to be who I am.

The Struggle

Ugh, I remember this.  I remember the internal struggle when I'm not sure whether I'm having a rough day, if I'm being moody or if my depression is seeping back in.  If it's a rough day, there's nothing wrong with wallowing in it.  I can read a book, drink some Coke, eat some junk food and call it a day.  If I'm being moody, I should knock it off.  I have a good life, a great family, wonderful friends, the flexibility, support and means to pursue my dreams and not stay in an unhealthy place.  I must practice mind over matter.  If it's depression, I have to be very careful.  I have to reconsider my decision to stop taking anti-depressants.  I have to practice the skills I've learned to combat the negative thoughts.  I have to accept that it is an illness and no mastery of mind over matter will make a difference.

The struggle is that, like so many illnesses, depression mimics normal, day-to-day maladies.  I can pretty easily rule out a rough day.  I woke up with my sick baby girl snuggled against me and feeling better.  My little dude has been happily playing trains all morning.  My oldest and her friends kept me company while I made them breakfast.  We have plans to take the kids to the movies this afternoon.  There's nothing rough about this day.

So the real question I am grappling with is whether this is mood or depression.  Have I forgotten to be grateful for all of the wonderful things in my life again?  Am I simply succumbing to boredom?  Am I the kind of person that gets cranky because everything isn't perfect?  What could it be if it isn't depression?

That's the scarier question because I think the answer is "nothing."  There's nothing going on in my life that would cause the kind of agitation I've been feeling over the past few days.  I'm taking things personally that aren't phrased in a personal way.  I'm feeling inadequate.  I'm crying.  That feels to me like depression and while I know I wasn't cured, because you're never really free of depression, I thought I was better, stronger, stable.  It's crushing to think that it's all lurking so close to the surface that three weeks without medication could drop me back where I was.

Okay, not where I was, exactly.  Recent relapses aside, I'm no where near where I was.  I won't ever let my depression get that bad again.  I have taken medication to get over the hump before and I am willing to do it again.  But how long do I fight on my own without the support of psychotropic medications?  I'm going to give it a bit of time.  I know so much more about combating depression than I did.  I want to believe that I'm stronger.  I want to believe that I know more.  Sadly, I'm not convinced.

So, I will do the things I've been taught.  I will keep lists of the happy things in life, starting with my supportive husband, my beautiful, loving children, my sweet puppy, my wonderful family and my incredible friends.  I am about to embark on a new journey with my yoga teacher training.  I'm working on a business venture that doesn't make me want to poke my own eyes out, in Wildtree.  I get to spend days with my children.  I am writing again.

I will practice cognitive behavioral therapy and challenge myself when I think I'm worthless.  I will reconsider words like "failure," "disaster," and "miserable."  I won't dwell in my disappointments, but focus on the positive.  I will remember to trust those who love me and question my own thoughts when mine are negative and theirs are not.

Most importantly, I will continue to pay attention.  Awareness was what I was missing in the beginning of all of this.  I was so far gone that I felt nothing, noticed nothing and wasted so much time.  I won't do that again.  I will continue to write, which enlightens me to my own emotions.  And I will always fight.

Lurking

I have this nagging feeling, like a lurking shadow, that I'm not yet well.  I have been feeling good.  I felt like it was the right decision to go off of my medication that was providing only moderate help.  I have been optimistic.  Yet the shadow is there.  Am I really better?

I have had a less than stellar few days.  I notice it in my unwillingness to undertake the effort of a shower.  I see it in the number of days my kids go without a bath.  I recognize it in my complete disinterest in what to eat.  I don't really feel like going anywhere.  We don't have any milk or cat food.  I have piles of work that I want to do on my desk.  And I really don't care.

I have been moody.  Any yelling or disobedience sends me into a frenzy, trying to control my own frustrated temper.  Crying children make me want to cover my ears and hide in the corner.  I am shouting again.  Am I not better?

I cancelled plans with a friend last night.  Is that a telltale sign or is it simply that I wanted to watch the video I had started?  I've been reading a lot.  Do I love the plot or am I avoiding my feelings?  Is there really any way to tell?

Each of these questions strengthens the sense of doom that shadows have always brought me.  I so desperately want to be better.  I don't want to believe that I need medication to be normal.  Maybe this is just the aftermath of going off of a progressive medication.  That's the trickiest part of mental health.  There's no real way to measure health, except by how one feels, and I feel this complex web of feelings that just won't unwind enough for me to tell and the worry is lurking.

Interpretations

I had a dream last night that left me uneasy and stressed.  I couldn't figure out what exactly about it bothered me until I spoke it out loud to another person.  In the dream, I was studying abroad with several other students.  Six of us were in a car driving to or from a wedding, I don't recall.  The driver declared that she was drunk just as we passed an unmarked police car.  She panicked and I took the wheel from the back seat.  I could hardly reach, much less see, but I maneuvered the car until we were pulled over, as expected.  Everyone hopped out of the car and I was left sitting in the backseat, although I expected to be fingered as the driver, since, technically, I was driving.  I suppose it protected me from prosecution because it was clear I wasn't the "driver," yet I felt responsible for the safety of the passengers and protecting the driver from trouble.

When the officer questioned us, I kept my mouth shut.  The rest of the group said more than enough.  He decided not to charge the driver, but he did take me aside.  He questioned why I hadn't said anything.  I was put on the spot and scared.  I said that, in my experience, it's best to speak only when spoken to when talking in terms of authorities.  I think I've grown to believe that involving myself on the behalf of others will do me harm.

I think I've lived a lot of my life feeling responsible for fixing the errors of others.  To a large degree, it's what lawyers do.  It's why we are needed.  Just like the nice girl who made an error in judgment to drive a car when she was impaired, many of these people are not horrible people, but when put in a position of fighting for themselves, they forget that I meant to be helping.  And maybe, while meaning to be helping, I'm doing no one any good anyway.  Maybe I'm simply allowing others to get away with making a mess of things and having someone to charge with the cleanup.  Maybe this world is just a little to hard for the likes of me.  It's very unnerving to feel like a victim, to feel like I've suffered "trauma."  Yet that's what they call it when I speak to therapists, psychiatrists, and social workers.  I am warned not to subject myself to too much, lest I re-traumatize myself.

So I've made the choice to seek softer avenues.  It still makes me feel weak and I still feel responsible for so much that I have no control over.  It has been, without a doubt, an overriding theme in my downfall.  On the other hand, I'm taking back some control by removing myself from scenarios like those I've walked away from and those that mirror my dream.  Here's hoping for more soothing dreams tonight and less trauma moving forward.