Friday, 27 April 2012

A sign.

I'm not really sure what to say about today.

I don't want to jinx it.

I woke up feeling ok - I didn't take an ativan this morning - nor did I take one last night.  I went to work and I didn't have to fake it as much as I normally do.  I didn't go and hide in my car once.

It was a rainy day for the most part but by the time work was finished the sun was breaking through the clouds and when "the person I've been seeing" asked me to go for drinks with some work peeps, I declined without a second thought and before I knew it, I had the dogs in the car and we were on our way to the dog park.

This is kind of a big deal considering I've barely left my house (or the couch) for anything but the necessities of life for as long as I can remember.

It was so nice at the dog park and my little guy Bodhi was so happy to be out in the sunshine with the other dogs he was smiling ear to ear and his little tail didn't stop wagging.  I couldn't help but smile (but also feel a bit guilty that my beloved dogs have become unintended victims of this struggle too.)

We had such a good walk that we went around the park twice! 

Lately when I take the dogs out we go behind my building and spend only as much time as needed for them to do their thing.  It's almost summer and the clovers are starting to come up - I have a 4 leaf clover tattoo and I used to find them all over the place!  In multiples!  It's kind of my "thing". 

I've looked for a lucky charm while we've been out back and though the grass is covered with clovers there have been no charms.

Today at the dog park, we veered off the main course because little Punky was feeling overwhelmed by the big dogs and even without my glasses on I looked down and saw it right away.

I couldn't help but think (and hope and pray) that this was a little sign from the Universe that I am on the right path.  To something brighter. 

Here's hoping.


Wednesday, 25 April 2012


Well, I survived another day.

This one was especially stressful because I had a meeting at work that I was really worked up about.  I get anxious about almost everything in life these days and normally it's never as bad as it seems and I end up scolding myself for wasting all of that precious energy for nothing but not in this case.  This was hard.  I arranged this meeting with a purpose and I was really conflicted as to whether I was doing the right thing.

I'm still not sure if it was the right thing to do but I'm glad it's over.  (As much as I'd love to debrief about it I can't go into details.  There's been some drama at work and I called a meeting with a "higher up" outside of my own department to express my frustrations.  And the fact that I'm totally being harassed.  But that's all I can say about that.)

As usual, I've now found new things to stress about - there never seems to be a shortage.

I've been taking Cipralex for over 3 weeks now and I'm not sure that it's doing any good.  I've had some really dark days.  And I'm yawning my face off all the time!!!

Have a feeling I might have a decent sleep tonight..  Maybe I'll even sleep in my bed (I've been sleeping on the couch for weeks now....not really sure why.)

Anyone who knows me in real life would never believe I am the one writing these words.



Tuesday, 24 April 2012


I want to write something every day. 

Unfortunately today I just don't feel like there's much to say.  Actually, it's more like....I don't want to talk about it.

I have a stressful meeting tomorrow at work and I'm worried I won't sleep tonight.  I've already taken one ativan today and fucking celebrity rehab has me worried that my little "chill pills" are going to turn me into a clown-make-up-wearing crazy person who will fall into seizures if I stop taking them.

Eventually I suppose it will be revealed that I have been seeing someone.  I'd like to take more time to write about how this came to be but for now, I'm just putting it out there.  I'm seeing someone.  I told him I was stressed about my meeting tomorrow (which I am going to partially for him) and he threw his hands up and said "it has to be done".

Luckily, I have another great guy friend who has a very health perspective on most things and he was able to give me some great advice.   I told my "lovah" about said advice and he hasn't responded to me since.  I suppose he think I'm not handling it the right way.

This is the last thing I need to be dealing with right now.

Also, I heard from a friend who has been a bit bummed lately (because she "needs to get laid") and when I asked what she was up to she replied, "Contemplating suicide, the usual.  You?"


Not funny.  Not cute.

One bad day at work does not a suicidal person make.

But then what do I know.


Monday, 23 April 2012

No left turn.

Today was hard. 

It was just as hard as yesterday, easier in some ways and yet even harder in others.

I woke up this morning filled with dread (same old story - mornings are the worst!) and desperately wanting to call in sick to work.  One thing I am proud of is that I have not called in sick once yet this year - and every single day starts the same way.  I even fantasize about falling down my stairs and breaking a bone.  Longing for the good old days of being stuck at home with the shingles!

One day at a time.  One hour at a time.  One foot infront of the other.

I am dealing with a bit of a fiasco at work which has not made any of this easier.  As I said in my last (first!) post, this cloud feels darker and gloomier than it's ever been and to be completely honest, I've been pretty scared lately.  Scared of what the future might hold for me.

I've never thought like this before.  I had youth on my side and always thought that one day I'd find happiness, peace...the life I always wanted.  It doesn't feel that way anymore.  I worry about what might happen after a few more years of this. I panic at the thought of having to live without my mom.  She is my lifeline - sometimes literally.

I could never leave her.  I wouldn't, couldn't do that to her.

But....what happens if one day I'm without her? God forbid. *Knock on wood*

I'm scared.  I've thought about "it" more than I ever have lately.  I've thought about how I might do it.  Not now, but someday.  I can see it happening.  The thought scares the hell out of me and I'm confident that I'm not in danger of hurting myself now but....will I always be able to say that?

I have 2 best friends who are like sisters to me and who I feel I can talk about anything with.  Tonight, I was talking to one of these friends (both of them live in other cities) and I confessed to her that I was feeling scared.  That I was worried about the future.  For reasons I understand, this is what she said....

"I'm sorry.  I'm not the right person for you to be talking about this with.  I can't listen to this."

I have never confessed something so dark and personal before.  And I never would have done it if I wasn't truly worried.  When it comes to depression, I am more likely to say everything is fine.  Smile though my heart is breaking kind of thing.

Her response to my reaching out was extremely painful.

I understand where she is coming from (due to a personal, painful experience she has been through with a family member).  Am I selfish to have thought I could reach out to her? That maybe because of her experience she would have more compassion?

I felt terrible that I didn't consider how she might feel in hearing me say these things but I also felt extremely embarrassed, alone and ashamed.  I still feel that way.

And I'm still scared.

Tomorrow is another day.  They just keep coming.


Sunday, 22 April 2012

Dark Days.

I've written daily in a journal since I was about 11 years old (my first "diary" was the best gift I've ever been given - thanks mom!) but two and a half years ago when my dad passed away, there were no words.  I stopped writing. 

Putting pen to paper has always felt therapeutic for me and it seems I write the most when times are hard (during the years of teenage angst I referred to my journals as "anthologies of pain").  I've often wondered how healthy this practice is and have tried to force a more postive outlook but writing is the one place where I feel I can be vulnerable.  Where I don't have to hide my struggle.

And things have been a struggle lately, to say the least.  And I'm tormented by the realization that, over the years,  they've been a struggle more often than not.  I'm 31 years old and it's time I started to take this black cloud over my head seriously.  It's not a phase, it's not because of some random "issue" that might be currently going on in my life.  Like my shadow this darkness has followed me everywhere for as long as I can remember and for the first time in my life I realize that it's not going to go away.

So what is a girl to do?

Live with it.  Live thru it.  Live despite it.

What other choice is there?

Lately I've heard depression referred to with hushed words like "taboo", "forbidden" and "secret". Why is it so shameful? Is it because the hurt is not visible?  I know just as well as anyone that so many of us suffer in silence and that this is also a coping mechanism - "fake it till you make it" as I like to call it.  We smile through the pain and so often, those who wear the biggest smiles are doing so inspite of tremendous inner turmoil. 

One of the things I believe contributes to the belief that sufferers can "snap out of it" is the casual use of the word "depressed".

Depression is not the feeling you get when you can't get tickets to see your favorite band.  It is not the feeling you get when your favorite team is eliminated from the playoffs (although that does hurt. I'm writing this less than 2 hours after my beloved Vancouver Canucks lost in the first round - ouch!).  It's not something a little sunshine will cure.  It's not even the feeling you get when a relationship falls apart (though depending on the circumstances, it can definitely lead a person there.)

It is not a feeling that comes and goes.  It's a fucking lifestyle.  And it's hard.

I can't fake it any longer.  This has been haunting me for over half of my life and I'm trying to deal with it but if I'm being totally honest, it feels harder now than it's ever been.  It seems to have gained power.  It seems to be such a huge part of my past (not to mention my present!) and now I'm paralysed with the fear that it will be a huge part of my future as well.  This hopelessness has taken me to a whole new level of darkness.  One I've never been to before.

I'm doing the best I can.  I know the few friends I have are frustrated.  I'm sure they think I am being so negative even if it's only due to my lack of positivity.

"This will pass.  Think positively!" was a bbm I received just minutes ago.

I try not to be a downer, I try not to always talk about how shitty things are.  I will lie and tell them I've gone out for a walk.  Or that I've gotten out of bed that day.  Showered.  Had a meal.

All lies.

I've started taking medication again and it was a very difficult decision for me personally.  I've been on medication before and I'm not entirely sure it helped so this time I was even more cautious.  It seems like everyone and their dog (literally) is on anti-depressants these days.  People who go to yoga, who go out with friends, who can get out of bed every day but just don't feel "happy".

I can't relate.

I need some serious ammo here.  This is the battle of a lifetime.

Cypralex is what I've been prescribed and I've been taking it for 3 weeks now.  I'm also going to try to find another therapist. (This is an exhausting and sometimes very discouraging task.)

And I'm going to keep writing.  Even if no one ever sees these words, I'm going to keep writing. Write thru this.