these are the contents of my head...
Heard one of my favorite Annie Lennox songs the other morning ("Why"). The line in the title sums up the other big reason why I edit and delete my blog posts and generally fret over what I say and how I say it -- I am scared of what people will think of the thoughts that I put out there.
Now, the original reason that I started blogging wasn't about telling people who read about me interesting stories, but as I enjoy writing *anyway*, and as I met more of you who may still be reading, it became a different kind of outlet. A community, where I could feel at home with the thoughts I was having (jealous of pregnant women? check. sad over my losses? check. scared of trying again? triple check.)
But in all of that, I forgot my original purpose. It was to get these thoughts that were driving me somewhat crazy at times out of my head so that maybe I could deal with them. While it's true that I never intended this blog to be all about my emotional well-being, I know that if I don't get these things out I may really have problems.
I'm not dealing well with life right now, at all. I could complain about my job until the cows come home, but since I can't gather the energy needed to find another one, my options are to put up with it (like all my coworkers, who are in the same sad stressful boat that I am) or leave. I can't leave. So I have to learn to cope with it.
Coping's not my strong suit right now. My therapist and I have been working on my self-esteem and my stress but hey, yesterday and today out of the blue a panic attack decided to sneak its way back into my head, over all the stress we're under here. I couldn't stop it even though I knew that "theoretically, I can just ride through this, breathe deeply, and move on." The Zoloft which seemed like such a wonder the other day (in that it's controlling my depression very well) is apparently maxed out on what it can do for the anxiety disorder that's probably the root cause of the depression, anyway. The only reason I've ever been depressed aside from the miscarriage has always had to do with my perceived inability to live up to someone else's standards, whether they're unreasonable or not.
I have an appointment with the psychiatrist on the 14th; I hate having to go back to her and saying "we need to increase/switch/add medication(s) because this isn't working." I know that it's healthier to just suck up and do it, but I hate feeling like a failure. *Not* dealing with it, though, would have serious negative side effects.
In all of this you'd think I'd be totally and completely miserable, but I'm not; I'm still interested in Lost, "trying again" with G, and making plans for vacation in May. I think this is how I came to realize that the depression isn't my primary problem; it's a symptom of the anxiety fueled by the ADD-like tendencies that cause me to feel like a failure or under too much stress to begin with. If I were just depressed, I know I couldn't enjoy much of anything. Sometimes it seems like one second I'll be crying or irritated or stressed out or panicky, and the next someone will say something funny and I crack up.
It's odd to feel so normal and so abnormal at the same time.
Now, the original reason that I started blogging wasn't about telling people who read about me interesting stories, but as I enjoy writing *anyway*, and as I met more of you who may still be reading, it became a different kind of outlet. A community, where I could feel at home with the thoughts I was having (jealous of pregnant women? check. sad over my losses? check. scared of trying again? triple check.)
But in all of that, I forgot my original purpose. It was to get these thoughts that were driving me somewhat crazy at times out of my head so that maybe I could deal with them. While it's true that I never intended this blog to be all about my emotional well-being, I know that if I don't get these things out I may really have problems.
I'm not dealing well with life right now, at all. I could complain about my job until the cows come home, but since I can't gather the energy needed to find another one, my options are to put up with it (like all my coworkers, who are in the same sad stressful boat that I am) or leave. I can't leave. So I have to learn to cope with it.
Coping's not my strong suit right now. My therapist and I have been working on my self-esteem and my stress but hey, yesterday and today out of the blue a panic attack decided to sneak its way back into my head, over all the stress we're under here. I couldn't stop it even though I knew that "theoretically, I can just ride through this, breathe deeply, and move on." The Zoloft which seemed like such a wonder the other day (in that it's controlling my depression very well) is apparently maxed out on what it can do for the anxiety disorder that's probably the root cause of the depression, anyway. The only reason I've ever been depressed aside from the miscarriage has always had to do with my perceived inability to live up to someone else's standards, whether they're unreasonable or not.
I have an appointment with the psychiatrist on the 14th; I hate having to go back to her and saying "we need to increase/switch/add medication(s) because this isn't working." I know that it's healthier to just suck up and do it, but I hate feeling like a failure. *Not* dealing with it, though, would have serious negative side effects.
In all of this you'd think I'd be totally and completely miserable, but I'm not; I'm still interested in Lost, "trying again" with G, and making plans for vacation in May. I think this is how I came to realize that the depression isn't my primary problem; it's a symptom of the anxiety fueled by the ADD-like tendencies that cause me to feel like a failure or under too much stress to begin with. If I were just depressed, I know I couldn't enjoy much of anything. Sometimes it seems like one second I'll be crying or irritated or stressed out or panicky, and the next someone will say something funny and I crack up.
It's odd to feel so normal and so abnormal at the same time.
posted by Lisa P. at 6:38 PM
4 Comments:
I recognized that blog title right away. And as for the last sentence of your post, here's the explanation: Annie Lennox wrote that after losing her son.
And do not worry. We are not here to judge you. We understand what it's like, frighteningly enough. The problem comes when you try to apply regular rules of sanity and perception to this very wrong state that we're stuck in, so from the outside looking in it looks horribly out of control and as a temporary outsider you know it's not supposed to be like that. But that's the way it is, you'll never be the same and you can try but the lens is different.
I still love you and will come to visit you in your head, no matter how messy it is sometimes.
Hi sweets. I know those feelings, and did a combination of zoloft and behavior modification to learn to manage anxiety attacks. Don't feel bad about asking to up your meds- sometimes you have to. You need to do what you can to get the behavior modifications to kick in. You need to establish a pattern. But you said all that. I guess I'm just saying that I've been there and know you can do it. Don't feel bad about it, just try to help yourself.
Don't worry about the reason that you started the blog, whether your stories are "interesting" enough or even trying to make any sense. Write what you need to write and know that those of us who care about you are here to read and support you.
:-)
what the others said. We are here no matter what. You owe us nothing.
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