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Saturday, December 10, 2016

Depressive: me.

Something major has been affecting me.

(And I wanted to blog about it for a long time... but focusing is too hard.)

I'm depressive.  

I'm bipolar, and I have been bipolar for decades now.  Not manic, for which I am thankful, but depression has become a much worse problem in my life.  My meds keep me from mania.  

That used to be the most important thing to me, not being manic -- but I can't cope with chronic depression, which is honestly crushing me.

I've been depressive for months, and it has been getting increasingly worse. 


So if you expected email -- I did read it.  Depression means "effort is hard" and by hard I mean beyond "the spirit is willing" [although that does apply as well].  It means I can reach for things, like replying... but I can't always get to them.

The phrase "out of reach" becomes horribly appropriate.

This is why Tweets are easier.  They're shorter, they're less effort, and if I take a day or two, it's okay.  I wish I could make "just take a day to reply to that email" an okay thing; instead, replies are just not happening.

You should realize that when I'm not replying to email because depression stymied me, it is because depression has made email suddenly too complicated.  Email.

Email, which I've been using since 1986!  

Dear God, it's like being in a straitjacket.  That's what depression is like.  


Will I reply?

I will attempt to.  Life feels like an attempt right now.  

The worst is that I am using words, which makes me seem sane.  Depression means you are not entirely sane -- very possibly hardly sane at all.  I can talk.  I can move around.  I can think.  

Most of the time I can even make a meal for myself.  What is actually scary is that simple things seem complicated.  

They shouldn't, but they do.  



Lately, unless I'm going to the chiropractor, I can't seem to leave the house by myself.  

I am not afraid.  I just... can't.  I may plan to.

Then it doesn't happen.  

The best way I can describe it involves spoon theory.  Having a small amount of spoons to be able to do the simplest things.  Normal activities like going to the library or grocery shopping by myself became Not Simple Things.  

== FYI:  I live with my sweetheart, so we do a lot together, and therefore I won't starve, but not being able to Do Things is freaking me out.


I was discussing this with a friend who said that depression is like Jenga.  She's perfectly right.  A balancing act.  What will make it fall down?  What will make YOU fall down?  What is too much?

Neither of us want to make anyone else depressive... but when you talk to a therapist who can't grok that "I can't do this" isn't a sane person talking... that is the opposite of helping!


I have been trying to find a new psychiatrist.  I didn't know that changing my provider would make that complicated.  Which is BAD when depressive.  Complicated makes even a phone call become a Herculean task (and no, I really am not joking here, I wish I were).

Allegedly my doctor's office will be helping me find a new psychiatrist.  Wish me luck.  That appointment's not until 22-December.  :(

=hugs=

Thank you for listening.  If you know anyone else who is depressive, remember that our brains are malfunctioning.  We aren't being contrary to spite you.  Our brains are fighting US.

I am so tired of being depressive... seriously, I miss my normal brain.  My normal self.  I want it back!

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