Catching up

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. Maybe it’s because I’ve been busy or maybe it’s because I’ve been through hell and back. It’s probably the latter. I have been through a lot in the last 2 years and it has totally changed my life.

I was going through a bad depression and was diagnosed as Major Depressive Disorder. I wasn’t getting out of bed. My teeth weren’t being brushed, I wasn’t by showing but maybe once a week. I was in a bad place, crying without reason, like big fat cries because I felt it could not possibly get better.

I was seeing my psychiatrist every two weeks, sometimes weekly. I began telling him about how I would have moments where i had amazing amounts of energy, would clean the house from top to bottom, I’d talk too fast and spend too much money. I told my psychiatrist I thought I may have bipolar. It turns out I am. I was devastated about the diagnosis but felt relieved at the same time. Maybe I could finally get on the right medications and I can start to improve.

I had a lot of med changes during that time, trying to nail down what worked best for me. It took a long time to find the right medication for me, like over a year of medication changes, before I found the answer for me. All the while, I was feeling like shit and utterly hopeless. I ended up hospitalized twice that year due to suicidal ideation and hallucinations. I was so broken.

Along came a new psychiatrist who finally took what I said into account. Someone who understood me. I felt comfortable around her and we were finally getting somewhere with the right medication combination to level me out. I had heard of a drug called Vraylar on tv and thought maybe it could be an option for me. It is a medication for Bipolar 1, which is what I have, and it claimed to alleviate symptoms of both mania (my high energy, bad choices symptoms) and depression. I was so excited to go to the psychiatrist to ask about it.

My psychiatrist had never prescribed it because she didn’t know much about it but she was willing to study up on it and give me two weeks to give it a try. I filled the prescription that same day because I was so ready for a change. I needed things to get better or I’d be in the hospital again in no time. I took my first pill the following morning and I could swear I could feel the difference within a day or two. My mood has lightened up a tiny bit. It was going to take some time to fully work considering how deep I was down the rabbit hole. I had hope for the first time in years. I felt like I could actually get better and I held onto that on the bad days and held on even tighter during the good days.

Since I have moved to Tampa things have been getting even better. My home life has gotten better, I can enjoy my kids and my husband, I can get up in the morning and not feel so helpless. I used to wake up and lay in bed for hours before I had the courage to get up, if I had the courage at all.

Fast forward 9 months and I’m finally able to get out of bed, I can do house chores, and I’m back to cooking meals for my family. It may seem like these things are small but to me being able to care for my family is everything. It’s a huge victory for me.

I thought because I was feeling so good i could try to go back to work. I may have been a bit manic when I made that decision. I got a job as a travel nurse and was so excited to be making my own money. I love that my husband can provide for us and doesn’t need me to work but I really wanted to contribute more than a small disability check. In my first week on the new job I worked 50 hours. My body couldn’t stand it. I was not sleeping and I was on night shift so sleep was as important as ever. I became so overwhelmed and quickly realized I didn’t have the mental capacity to take care of my patients how I used to do. It was a brutal reality I had to face. I struggled with it for weeks but I cancelled my assignment and I feel like I finally have a clear head. I won’t be able to work in nursing anymore as much as that breaks my heart.

Now I am a SAHM, helping my boys with their schoolwork each day and it gives me a sense of purpose. It makes me feel better about not being able to work.

It’s December and I’m dealing with some seasonal depression. I’ve been sleeping a lot and haven’t done the best keeping the house clean. This time I noticed the decline early and have been working toward getting back on track. My psychiatrist added another medication to my regimen and she’s very hopeful this will give me the extra push to come out of this episode. As happy as I am with how far I’ve come, I still have a way to go and I’m ok with that. I’ve gotten better and know I can do it again. XX

The Search For Normalcy

When I started this blog, it was meant to be a way for me to communicate what I’m feeling, share my story, and let others know they aren’t alone. Sometimes the things I write about are inspirational and full of hope. Other times, I blog about the struggles I’m facing. Today it’s about my struggle. My struggle to obtain and maintain normalcy.

I just started a new job on a medical unit. I was so excited for the opportunity to practice nursing again. And then things started to take a turn, a turn I wish I wasn’t taking.

Things are getting bad again. I’m not taking care of myself as well as I had been, my teeth aren’t brushed as often as they should be, I’m wearing the same clothes for two days or more, I barely brush my hair, I only shower every few days…Like, things are getting bad and I didn’t even notice until I was here.

I have missed my last four shifts at work. I don’t have the energy, motivation, or ambition to get up and go. The idea of taking care of other people seems impossible when I have to put so much of myself into showering before work. How can I help others if I’m not helping myself?

It makes me so sad. Sad to know that just a short time ago I was optimistic, energetic, and ready to take on the working world again. Now I just lay in my bed and ignore the laundry or housework. I lay in bed when I should be working.

I wish I could be that person, that normal person who gets up and goes to work each day. I wish I was that person with a clean house and home cooked meals.

I can’t concentrate. The last day I worked I could barely keep my thoughts straight on what I needed to do. I felt like a baby nurse who is on the floor for the first time. I felt so unsure of myself. So self conscious. So not confident. Now every day I think about work I’m afraid to go, afraid I’ll feel that way this time. That someone will realize I’m a fraud. Someone will realize I don’t have it all together; far from it to say the least.

That’s what bipolar does to you. It makes you feel full of hope one minute and so low the next. It makes you feel like the littlest things are big, huge things. Bipolar makes you feel like you’re incapable of everything.

I’m going to see my psychiatrist and try to push through all these feelings and self doubt. I’m not one to give up so I will keep pushing. Hopefully I’ll come out on the other side feeling better and ready to take on the world.

Remember Who You Are

Depression is a difficult disorder to fight. Depression tells you lies; You’re not good enough, you’re not strong enough or important enough. Depression takes away your fight and leaves you feeling weak, sad, and alone. All in all, depression is a bitch.

Here’s the thing though…you are none of the things depression tells you that you are. You’re not alone or weak. You have people who care and you are important! You’re a fighter and you can beat this bitch called depression.

I was in a dark place not too long ago. I felt like life wasn’t worth fighting for. I was suicidal and wanted everything to end. I wanted to end the pain and the constant doubt that things could ever get better. I was a constant bag of emotions, crying over anything and everything. I couldn’t work because I couldn’t get out of bed. I could barely muster up enough energy to walk to the bathroom. I was in hell.

I took all my meds just as prescribed, went to therapy, and the psychiatrist. I was a good girl and did all the things they tell you to do in order to break free of the depression that was crippling me and slowly things took a turn. I began to notice slight changes in my mood and energy level. I began to feel like I might have a chance…That in itself was a revelation! I felt I had a chance. I felt like I could actually beat this damn disorder and become who I wanted to be.

One day I heard a song by Shawn Mendes called, “In My Blood” and I instantly felt ten feet tall. If you haven’t heard the song, give it a listen! I remembered in that moment I’m not one to give up. I’m a fighter and I can conquer this disorder. I can be happy again!

I am still slowly recovering from the depression that plagued me but I’m making strides everyday to a better life. I’m content and dare I say it, happy. So from someone who’s been so low they want to end their life to end the pain, believe me, it does get better! You must believe me and fight those voices telling you it’s a useless fight. You are a fighter and you can do this! So give it everything you’ve got and then give it just a little bit more…You can beat this little fighter and your days will be brighter!

XOXO

Stop Treating Mental Illness As A Secret To Be Kept

Two celebrity suicides in a week…Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain. People with seemingly good lives but never a single hint either of them were struggling with mental illness; At least not to the outside world. Why do we keep mental illness some big secret? Why do we brush depression under the rug and act ashamed? Could either of these celebrities have been saved if they had asked for help? In order to ask for help we first need to feel comfortable asking for help and comfort is not found where stigma resides.

We need to stop treating mental illness as though it’s a big secret. We need to be understanding and realize mental illness can happen to anyone at any time. It doesn’t matter if you are a billionaire with seemingly everything or someone living on the streets. Mental illness affects those in all walks of life; mental illness does not discriminate.

I’ve heard it said, “Money doesn’t buy happiness” in regard to these two celebrities who both died from apparent suicide. To this I say does money cure your cancer or your heart disease? See how that sounds? Ridiculous, right? We have to stop looking at depression, bipolar disorder, etc like a disease that can be prevented and start having open dialogue. When we begin to have open conversations, we can begin to understand. When we begin to understand we can be comfortable asking for help. When we feel comfortable asking for help, we can save lives.

We may not be able to save Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain but we can start being more open, educate the ourselves on mental illness so we can understand. We can have open, truthful dialogue about depression and other mental disorders and maybe we can save some lives in the future.

To Kate Spade, Anthony Bourdain, and the other thousands who die from suicide each year, I say may you now find the peace you could not find here ❤️

Baby Steps

Baby steps. I’m taking baby steps every day. I was recently on my Facebook and had a memory from a year ago where I was listing everything I’d done that day. Three loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, dusted, swept all the floors, and made a homemade cheesecake…It’s amazing how things can change in a year.

Nowadays I can barely get out of bed to shower and my teeth are furry more days than clean. My kitchen doesn’t get cleaned like it should and my floors are very seldom swept. But I’m taking baby steps.

Recently at my therapy appointment I was explaining to my therapist about how I feel like a failure because I can’t get everything done like I used to. This is when she said something that has stuck with me. “You don’t have to accomplish everything. Just try to accomplish something.” She told me to make a goal for myself for the day. It can be as simple as showering or as big as taking a walk down to the lake but make sure I had a goal.

I started with getting out of bed for a while and sitting in the living room with my family. My bedroom had become my safe haven and I rarely left it. After I conquered that task for the day I moved onto bigger tasks like cleaning and taking walks. I still struggle; it’s amazing how much energy it takes to shower and how much you take it for granted until you’re in the throes of a bipolar depression but I’m slowly taking the steps.

Now on most days I make two or three goals for myself. Some days I accomplish all of them, other days I may only get one (or on a bad day none) of my goals accomplished. I focus on the goals I met because I know I’m trying. And I’m going to keep pushing forward because I’m not a quitter.

My floors may still be dirty more often than not but I’m taking those baby steps. And I’ll keep on taking those baby steps until it gets easier.

The Separation

I’ve always wanted to be a nurse. Even as a child it was the one career I always dreamed of. That’s why the separation is so difficult…

I’ve been out of work for 6 months. Six long months not doing what I love. Unfortunately, my medical leave only lasts six months, so here I am talking with Human Resources about my options. Basically, I don’t have any.

I have been let go or should I say my place of employment has “gone forward with a separation of employment” because I have yet to be released to go back to work (with good reason; Saturday night I had two panic attacks, each lasting a good 30 minutes. Obviously, I’m not ready to have other people’s lives in my hands). This is something I was expecting but it hurts nonetheless. I just didn’t know it would hurt this much…I’ve been in tears, sobbing uncontrollably ever since I got the news.

I love being a nurse. I get to help people every day and make them feel good, cared for, and nurtured. Obviously, they may be able to take my job but not my license to practice, so I know someday when I am mentally healthy, I may be able to begin my career again. The reality that I cannot practice hurts so much but in the end, I have to take care of my mental health first.

Maybe I’ll get back in tip-top shape and be able to practice again someday and maybe I won’t. The unknown is scary but if I’ve learned anything throughout my years of mental illness, it’s this: my mental health has to come first. Always. As much as I want to practice again, my mental health has to be in the forefront of my mind. All decisions have to be made with my health being thought of first.

I hope someday I am ready to go back. I’d give my right hand to be able to be healthy enough to go back to work, practice nursing, and do what I love. For now, it’s just not in the cards.

So for now, I will focus on my mental health. Focus on myself. And hopefully get closer to being able to practice again. Until then…

Xoxo

Time For an Update

Hey. Long time no see…It’s been quite a while since I’ve written. My depression has had me so low at times, sitting on my bed blogging was too much to undertake. So, what’s been going on with me? Am I feeling any better, you ask? Well, a lot has happened since my last blog so sit down with a comfy blanket, an iced tea, and I’ll fill you in.

I can’t even remember the last time I blogged, so bear with me if there is some repetition. ECT does that to you. Makes you lose your memory. And I am no exception. I’ve been struggling trying to remember the simplest things; how to get to my sons school, how to get to the doctor, forgetting my doctors name, or even worse forgetting I have a doctor. I needed to see the doctor for something and I mentioned to my husband, my sweet, tolerant, and incredibly patient husband I needed to find a doctor. He quickly reminded me I already had a primary care physician. I did not remember that at all! What was worse was I had already seen this doctor for something! It is very unsettling to have such gaps in memory. It’s like living your life with your eyes closed.

On top of the memory issues my mood swings have been severe. I can go from being happy, energetic, and ready to take on the world to tired, damn near lethargic, irritable, and downright mean I’m a matter of a day. I spoke with my psychiatrist about my mood swings and was after some time diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder with Mixed Episodes. I’m sure you’ve heard of bipolar but you may not understand the mixed episodes part. So, with bipolar you have your highs and lows but you go slowly (for the most part) from a high to a low. With mixed episodes you cycle rapidly from one episode to the next. I can go from a manic episode to a depressive episode in the matter of 24 hours. My moods are very unpredictable. This has made it very difficult to get my medication regulated and for me to go back to work. At this point, I can’t even see myself in a work setting; being responsible for someone’s health or life. I have a hard time being responsible for showering on a daily basis. The responsibility of Someone’s life seems like a heavy cross to bear and one I’m not ready to take on.

People keep telling me I need to look at things from a more optimistic or positive standpoint and I can take on the work world again. I’m trying my best but it’s hard to be optimistic when you feel down in the dumps. I have to be realistic and remember the job I have requires a lot of knowledge, precision, and concentration. Right now concentration and memory are not my strong suit. While I understand what people are saying in regard to optimism, I have to be real with myself and realize nursing might not be a possibility for me anymore. With a little more time maybe I’ll know what I need to do.

Currently I’m feeling pretty good actually. I’m not sure if I’m in a manic phase or just on a level keel. I say I’m not sure because I don’t know what it feels like anymore to have energy unless I’m going into mania, in which case I’ll clean and go shopping like a mad woman. Level isn’t something I’ve felt in quite a while. I’ve been able to cook some dinners, clean the kitchen, and even do some laundry. For me, this is huge and hopefully a step in the direction of recovery.

So, that’s where things stand right now. Try not to stay away so long next time.

XOXO

How Depression Made Me Feel Like a Bad Mommy

**this is an old draft I never published. Im not sure why but after reading through it, I felt I had to post it. Partly because I’ve had more of those “bad mommy moments” lately and have been told to show myself some grace. This post has the same lesson behind it, so it only seems fitting.**

I’ve dealt with depression most of my life. I remember being 15 and alternating between sleeping all the time and bouts of insomnia. One particular time in high school, I was 16 if I remember correctly, I went through a crying jag. I just could not stop. My aunt, whom with I was living at the time, took me to the emergency room to make sure I was safe. I remember the ER doctor asking me if I was suicidal and I just told him, “No, I’m just so tired from not sleeping.” He gave me some sleeping pills and sent me on my way. My aunt was really worried about me and watched me like a hawk for a few weeks after that incident. That was the first time I remember feeling like a burden and less of a person.

When I became a mother I didn’t fall into parenting flawlessly like I envisioned I would. I loved my sons no doubt but I fell into a depression unlike any I’d ever felt before. I had chosen to breast feed and I remember it not being this magical feeling, an amazing bonding moment like I hoped it would be, like I was told it would be. I remember pushing it, trying and trying to make that magical bonding experience a reality. It never happened. I couldn’t breast feed and it didn’t feel magical. I remember feeding my son and just waiting impatiently for it to be over. And that was the first time I remember feeling like a bad mother. It was also when I realized I was depressed. I was suffering from post-partum depression.

I was so depressed, I was unengaged with my family. I was sleeping all the time, or barely sleeping. I was no longer interested in things I used to find joy. I was irritable and mean. I tended to my sons needs as things would arise but I didn’t spend much time with him outside of tending to his needs. Or I would go the other direction and worry about him constantly. Was he breathing? Was he wet again? Was he comfortable? Too hot? Not warm enough? My mind would not shut off from the constant worries. I was depressed in the worst way.

The constant worrying had me so overwhelmed. I felt like the worst mom because I never seemed to know when things were just ok. There was always this cloud above me; a cloud of doubt. A cloud that repeated to me over and over that I wasn’t a good mom because I was unsure of everything. It couldn’t possibly be this hard for all moms, could it? One day I was overwhelmed to the point I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I reached for a bottle of pills to end my indecisiveness and worry. I was going to kill myself.

I grabbed a bottle of Tylenol, downed an entire handful and laid back on the bed, waiting for the darkness to take me, to take away all my worry and anxiety. 15 minutes in, I had a change of heart. Was it too late? I began to panic but all I could think was at least I wouldn’t have this anxiety and overwhelming feeling of failure, so I laid there.

My husband came into the bedroom to tell me goodbye before he left for work. I was barely conscious. He kept asking me, “what did you take? What did you do?” I told him I took Tylenol in the littlest voice I had left. The ambulance came, I was admitted to the psychiatric unit, and spent a total of one month away from my family.

It didn’t occur to me then but it does now, we as parents, especially we mothers, put so much pressure on ourselves to be great moms, to do everything right, to do everything as naturally and gracefully as possible. The pressure to be the perfect mommy is so so great, we crush ourselves. We crush our self confidence. We end up depressed and barely clinging to life trying to be the perfect mommy.

In the end, the important thing to remember is we don’t have to be perfect. Things are going to seem awkward and not always the most graceful but that’s normal. That’s part of being a new mom. We can’t possibly have it all figured out all at once. So be kind to yourself. Be patient with yourself. It’ll come in time. Don’t make yourself feel like a bad mommy, you wonderful, beautiful, kind mommy you💕

 

When Something Doesn’t Feel Right, You Have to Speak Up…

It’s been forever since I’ve blogged. I’ve felt like blogging a couple times but things have been very hectic here. Where do I even begin??

Well, on top of my depression, I have been dealing with these emotional highs and even lower lows. It has seemed like a rollercoaster and I’ve been trying to figure things out.

There have been days where I have felt like I was worthless, a piece of trash, not worth anyone’s time. I’ve felt suicidal, on the verge of another psych admission. On one particular day, I had been extremely emotional and I didn’t know why. I was just extremely depressed and wanted everything to end. I though about ending it with my razor. I thought about ending it by walking in front of the SunRail (a train). I was in bad shape but decided not to seek help that time. Maybe not the best decision looking back. Anyway, I obviously didn’t go through with those thoughts and I’m still here.

There have been days I’ve known there wasn’t enough money in my checking account to buy an item I so desperately wanted but bought it anyway. I recently bought a $300 purse when I knew we didn’t have the money to splurge on it. I’ve been on LuLaRoe shopping sprees galore, knowing full well the money was not there. I’ve cleaned my house top to bottom in a frenzy doing all but using a toothbrush to clean the floors. These cleaning frenzies have lasted all day.

Then I’ve gone the other way. Can’t get out of bed, crying but not knowing why, ruminating over how worthless I am. Thinking about all the past trauma in my life and being pissed beyond belief. Wanting to kill myself and trying to think of the best way (if there is one, p.s. there isn’t) to end it.

One day, it just hit me. “Jess, you may just have bipolar disorder.” That would explain the 20+meds I’ve been on that haven’t worked. They were trying to treat Major Depressive Disorder and that may just not be what I had. I knew I needed to mention it to my psychiatrist because he hadn’t made the connection yet either. I was nervous to mention it to him. Afraid I would be stepping on toes but I knew I needed to advocate for myself. For any of you out there, not getting better, feeling like you’re not getting the right treatment, do not be afraid to be your own advocate. Sometimes you have to in order to get healthy! SPEAK UP IF SOMETHING DOESNT FEEL RIGHT!

Anyway, the next time I saw my doctor, I told him I didn’t want to tell him how to do his job but I had been having these extreme highs and lows and felt I may be bipolar. We went through all my symptoms and he too thought it was a total possibility. He put me on a medication for bipolar disorder and now we wait…

I have had fewer mood swings although not gone completely. I’ve had more energy and have spent fewer days in bed and less time isolated. Things are starting to get better as far as me being more level and less up and down. And then I found out my miracle medication is too expensive for me to afford. Like, even if I was working and making $3000 a month, I wouldn’t be able to afford it. It’s insane how expensive it is. So, now it’s on to determining what other medication I can be put on to hopefully provide the same results…

This rollercoaster seems never ending…So, onto the next adventure in keeping myself level…

Just When You Start To Think You’ve Made It To The Top and You Realize There’s a Valley On The Other Side…

Things have been interesting lately. I’ve had some extreme highs and some extreme lows. The last few days have been pretty good though. I even signed up as a LipSense Distributor. I found something I was excited about and thought I’d be able to make it happen. I still feel that way. I’m passionate about the product but this damn fog is over my head again…

I had a phone appointment with my therapist the other day. She asked me how I was. I told her I felt good and thought I’d be ready to go back to work soon, as scary as it was to say that. She said I sounded brighter and different than I have in the past. And now this fog has settled and I just want to lay in bed and do nothing. The show The Bachelor just started and it has always been one of my favorites, like I don’t miss it. Ever. This season I haven’t seen a full episode yet. It doesn’t hold my attention, I just don’t care about it.

I feel like it wasn’t that long ago I was at the top of this mountain, feeling like I’d accomplished something; was ready to take on the work force, do my nursing duties, take care of my family and home like I used to; Now, today, I feel like I’ve hit that valley and I have to crawl back up now. But I’m so tired…crawling up seems impossible.

Romantically I know my husband longs for how things used to be. I on the other hand, just want to be held and sleep on his chest. It’s a sad situation; one I wish I could change. I want to change it, I just don’t have the energy to change it.

I’m antsy all the time. I never know if I should sit, stand, lay down, sleep, clean, read, or whatever. I can’t get my shit together.

I thought I was making progress with my sleep but that was foolish. I’m back to not sleeping well. Im sleeping better than I had been but not well. I just want to sleep and wake up feeling refreshed, ready to face the day. That seems like it may never happen. Ativan, you have failed me. I have tried pillow mist, herbal sleepy time teas, aromatherapy, sound machines, meditation, you name it, I’ve tried it. All to no avail. Have I mentioned I’m tired? My mom mentioned yesterday that I need something for under my eyes because of the huge bags I have. Thanks, mom. Trust me, I can see them.

I wish I could just feel joy. It’s been a long time since I felt joy or peace. I remember, I was at the ocean, sitting in one of those little short beach chairs, just letting the waves rush over me and feeling like everything was right in the world. I tried to sit down at the beach today and read and I didn’t feel that peace. I didn’t feel joy. I felt nothing. The only thing worse than feeling sadness is feeling nothing…

The last time I saw my psychiatrist, I was in a horrible state. I was crying, anxious, passively suicidal. He asked me if I had been taking my meds and I almost lost it on him. I know he has to ask but I took major offense to that question. Yes! Of course I’m taking my medication! I want to feel normal, whatever that is. I want to be happy and productive. I want to go to work and do the job I worked so hard to be licensed to do. Of course I’m taking my medication!!

I’m tired of life, the monotony, the mundane. I feel like everyday, I wake up, go through the motions, don’t enjoy any of it, and just pray for bedtime. I literally think about going to bed all day. It can be 3 in the afternoon and I can’t wait until it’s acceptably late enough to go to bed. That’s not life. I kinda hate my life right now. And then of course I feel guilty to say that because I have a wonderful husband and two awesome boys yet I can’t make myself be happy. I feel like a failure.

I’ve been putting on makeup every single day for the last, I don’t know? Week? And I haven’t worn makeup before that in quite a while. The makeup makes me feel like I’m somewhat put together. Unfortunately, it’s only skin deep. I’m far from put together and today I couldn’t even fake it and put it on. I’m so frustrated. Frustrated with life, frustrated with myself, frustrated with how things are compared to how they used to be.

Bills are piling up. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold on to our vehicles. Then there’s the guilt I feel because I can’t go to work to help pay the damn bills to keep the vehicles. I’m depressed because I always wanted to keep any money struggles away from the boys and now they are aware of them and often ask, “When we have money again…” Even the kids are getting used to it. Just another damn valley.

Today I was looking through LinkedIn and found my job posted. Work called me a while back and told me they had to post it to try to replace me because I’d been gone so long. It wasn’t a surprise to see my job posted but for some reason it still hurt. I don’t even like my job there. I’d like to work in labor and delivery, post-partum, or a fertility clinic. Where I’m at is not where I want to be but it still hurt. And just like that, another valley.

This road has so many twists and turns, hills and valleys, sometimes I wonder if I’m not struggling with bipolar disorder. I can do well for a while and then go into a deep depression. I really wonder if we’re missing something.

I’m so tired. I’m so tired of always climbing and crawling. Just trying to get to the finish line. I feel like the finish line keeps moving further away from me and everyone is laughing at me while I struggle.

My ECT treatments have moved to bi-weekly. I’m glad because I’ve been having so much trouble with my memory. I had to use the GPS to go to my therapy appointment the other day. I’ve driven that route so many times I should be able to drive it with my eyes closed and I needed my GPS. That makes one more thing for me to be depressed about. I can’t remember how to get places, I can’t remember words, I can’t remember recent events. Sometimes this ECT is a blessing and sometimes it’s a curse. It has helped with my depression but it has caused other problems that contribute to my depression. I just don’t know what’s worse at this point.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel different. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel good. I don’t know. What I do know is today is not a good day and the days have been going downhill for a little while now. I’m on a roller coaster and I want to get off of it. Did I mention I’m tired and want a nap?