#depression stuff

[whatevenisokay]

[aquareegia]

being told "your self awareness and ability to reflect is a sign of your emotional intelligence" by my therapist, doesn't really feel like a compliment tbh. the self awareness doesn't stop me from panic attacks over irrational fears tho. sometimes i wish i was blissfully ignorant, but i'm always hyper aware. my brain is made of alarmbells that are on 24/7.

[best-of-theworst]

My personal space is around 5 kilometers in every direction. Just don't come close to me, please leave me alone.

[awildhappiness]

[notesbynataly]

Trying to stay positive but I need to find solutions for being productive despite the bouts of depression ...

More than just going outside.

Any advice?

[dunglizard]

nine years ago today I formally decided that I wasn’t going to kill myself and called a mental health hotline (rare helpful one) which led to me getting medicated and slowly crawling my way out of the pit

and just look at me now: fat, hot, hairy, gay, top surgery on the horizon, and married to the actual most beautiful woman in the world

I’m still here and I’m celebrating!!

[fcknyash]

Feeling like shit.

Feeling like a bus hit me.

I want home and I want cuddles.

I am alone and I wanna quit this fucking therapy.

But I can't quit because I know it's wrong.

I don't know how long I can keep going anymore ... with all of this ...

[marvel-mistress-padawan]

I am questioning everything in my life right now. I've been trying to attend Grad school while working full time and couldn't seem to keep up with everything life required of me. So I left my full time work and took on additional loans in aan attempt to allow myself more time in the day and enable me to pass my classes. I'm not failing at this point but I'm not doing great either. I'm not actually good at anything. I'm 42 years old, I don't have a career, I don't own a home, I'm not thin, or pretty, or popular, or anything really. I'm just useless. And now I'm in further debt and for what? For a degree to do a job that I might not be any good at anyway? What is even the point?

And in like 30 years or less I will be dead and no one will remember or care that even existed. I literally just want to write stories and eat snacks and never leave my house. Why is that so impossible? Why do I have to work myself to death trying to "improve myself" so that I can have enough money to barely survive and no time at all for writing or creativity? It's all pointless. Why not just skip ahead and be dead now?

I am not suicidal. I have no plans to do anything drastic. I am just questioning the futility of existence. What is even the point?

[hermit-pride]

Day: 15. Still not doing very well with my journal but things are getting better. First off I saw my rheumatologist for a routine follow up and it appears that I am in remission with the Remicaide infusion and the weekly dose of methotrexate. But I had read that Paxil has properties that studies have shown reduces inflammation. I asked him to start me on it; which he did. Rheumatoid Arthritis also can cause depression as well. My theory about my depression is that I mostly denied having depression even though,in retrospect, I certainly had many symptoms of depression. But since I didn't "feel" depressed it was a particularly simple denial.

"Well dingbat", I told myself, "you have become so very accustomed to burying your feelings that you don't "feel" the depression like others".

So, nine days of Paxil and I see/feel the difference. My anhedonia has not changed appreciably, but my avolition has improved and I'm getting things done without reminders from my wife. My mood nearly always measured between 4.75 and 5.25 on a scale of 0 to 10 with 0 being suicidal and 10 being finally able to look into Jesus face and knowing that 10 will be my new "normal". Now I seem to be between 5 and 6. But am still insulated against moods that are lower or higher. With my lifelong SzPD I'm not sure how I would hand mood swings out of my normally narrow range.

I guess, to sum it up, some of my negative symptoms for SzPD are impacted by my depression. Go figure!?!

Other good news, and bad... My wife ordered herself a wheelchair and she used to for the first time today. With her multiple health problems, she spend most of her time in bed; problems like POTS, fibromyalgia, long covid, poorly controlled Addison's, chronic spine problems, and new(er) onset of steroid-induced diabetes all contribute to her having little energy, dizzy spells, and continued oxygen dependence. Her life is miserable.

But, between Adderall and Paxel I feel like talking (outloud) and have the spiritual energy to engage in conversation. She told me this morning while driving to visit out of town family that I'm a "different person" with these medications. I have been reminded and I feel bad that she has little social stimulation other than what I bring. It is great to be able to better provide this as she has been depressed and lonely because of me being somewhere else when I'm with her. Other good news is that she tolerated room air while at rest. The bad news is that she is no less tolerant of activities like getting ready to see our relative. It would normally take 2 hours if she was well but this morning took almost four! And she required help dressing and packing, etc. Long covid-19 is a bitch!!

My RA is doing quite well. I worked Wednesday and Thursday night (12hr shifts) and had no resultant pain. Typically my feet hurt for about 24° afterwards. I'm hoping it's Paxil doing it's thing in concomitant therapy with Remicaide and MTX. I admit, walking an average of 12-18,000 steps over a 12 hour period isn't good for RA joints but with my ADHD I just don't want to sit. Also, if I sit for more than five minutes I get stiff, like a 90 year old man and when I get up on me feet it hurts a little until the stiffness goes away. Fortunately, work is going well. Thursday night I was called into the managers office and told that the union signed a contract and now we can get our raises. She said next paycheck will show a $2.46 raise! It's a good time to be a nurse! But joking aside, I have always enjoyed being a nurse and hope my health holds up until I'm 70 years old and I will (mostly) retire. My wife suggested I go part-time and work one shift per week after I retire. Hopefully, that will be an option. 💛❤️.

[lacyscabinet]

The feminine urge to bang my head against the wall

[whatevenisokay]

[aquareegia]

It's hard to make friends when you're severely depressed because most people don't understand that you need a lot of time for yourself. They don't understand when you need to isolate yourself and go nonverbal for a while.

The words "you're too much to handle" and "you're not worth it" will haunt me forever, but I can't honestly blame anyone for that.

[yourlocalsentientmoth]

I typically think I keep a lot of my problems to myself and refuse to tell people what's wrong with me but then I remember if you call me at the right time of day when im having existential crisses A, B, or X. I will just start explaining my theory board of "mental problems I probably have and why" and just random post-it notes that are on there as well. Just like:

"So that probably says something about my attachment issues, but that's a different topic back to the fact I genuinely cannot tell if I live in a video game bubble or not and if I go far enough will I just fall out of bounds,"

After the conversation: "welp time to regret the fuck out of that in the morning,"

[mxlxverboy]

I‘m sorry that I made you go through all this pain, also if I knew it would happen again. I’m sorry I don’t love you yet. I’m sorry I keep making the same mistakes.

Love, me.

[cb-writes-stuff]

So, fun fact, I have started on antidepressants. Apparently they take about 2 weeks to actually start working.

Possibly? related, I’ve started feeling less depressed. Like, it still happens, but… I think I get stuck in it less?

I’m not sure what I’ll do if it, y’know, works. What advice am I gonna give depressed people? “Start on meds”? That’s not very helpful, not to everyone.

In hindsight, the weeks leading up to now seem so short. Maybe that’s because hindsight is 20/20, maybe it’s because I was dissociated for a lot of it—we’ll never know. My memories of that time are… gray. Dull. Washed together. If I pick a moment and focus, there’s color, but there’s hardly any moments to focus on. I remember it so poorly.

…Hmm.

[lifecrushing]

"younger sibling rage is when you saw all the horrors they did to your brother, how they crushed his dreams and expected him to stand there with a smile. When they say he had a loving childhood, but all he wished is to be elsewhere, and knowing that he is no longer a loving boy you once knew, but a person filled with fury, threatning to spill all over the carpet. As a young child you do not understand, but when the teenage years hit you recognize the familiar feeling. You want to make them feel miserable, just like they did to your kind brother, whom no longer can look back on a childhood or whom was made to be like a vault, and then you realize, why that brotherly rage came flooding back in."

as a person who has very abusive parents, and my brother was the only person that made my childhood bearable I identify with this poem very much. :(