Struggles With Anxiety, Depression

I haven’t been writing as much lately because apparently this year is my “once a decade gO cRaZy” year. I have good days, but for many weeks now I’ve been having far too many bad days. Panic attacks and being on the verge of a panic attack is still a problem, as is good old fashioned depression with a side of hours-long crying bouts maybe twice a week (and quickie minutes long crying bouts off and on several times more days than not).

Fun.

My life circumstances are much better these days– MUCH better. My relationship with my husband has been figured out and he’s been treating me with respect and tenderness for weeks now. I’m settled into our new home and we’re now at the point of being able to take on fun projects with free time– because we actually HAVE free time.

Unfortunately, my mental state is such that I haven’t exactly been able to appreciate it. Things seem far away and grayed out. People don’t seem real somehow. The world feels hostile or cold and indifferent by turns. Its very frustrating that there’s such a lag time between when my life no longer sucks and my brain KNOWS that my life no longer sucks. I’m still so fucking fragile! I loathe it.

But I’ve learned so much about PTSD and depression and brain chemistry that on better days when my brain is semi-functional, I know that this is not something I have power over to turn off at will. I have to do what I can to maintain, and ask for help when I can’t. Gerick knows what’s going on and has been through this with me twice before– and this time he knows he’s at least partially responsible for my suffering. He took 100% blame and responsibility for it, though– no more egoistic defensiveness, and apologized and has had a total turnaround as off a few weeks ago. I wish he’d realized what he was doing to me months ago and saved me this trip into Darkland!

I’m having some issues with the tiny house roomies, and one of them is that they DON’T understand why I’ve gone from happy and social and totally together to the neurotic mess I am now. I had one particularly bad house meeting where they just ganged up on me! They said it was “ridiculous” that I was “still having problems” now that things were better. I tried explaining the whole brain chemistry thing, and they accused me of making excuses, not taking responsibility, and “playing the victim.” Well, at that point I got pissed and told them they could leave if they couldn’t handle it and further, that I wasn’t having meetings like this with them anymore if they couldn’t have respect and compassion for a very real struggle that I was doing my best to deal with. (In fact, part of the meeting was held for me to explain to them what I was doing to handle my issues, showing that I WAS taking responsibility!)

I fucking hate it that most Americans are so ignorant of basic psychology!! You don’t WILL yourself out of depression or anxiety!! And saying I was somehow getting off on being a victim is SO cruel and disrespectful– not to mention just plain fucking WRONG! Who would want to bask in these horrific feelings?!? Needless to say, this attitude of theirs is not boding well for a long-term living situation.

At least I know that help is on the way… I’m literally counting the days here. My first medicated intensive therapy session in 2 years is scheduled for the first weekend of August.

In the meantime, though– its a struggle. I’m floundering and flailing here and each day may be a lot worse or a little better– and I never know what it’ll be. I keep trying to remind myself that I am not well and need to be patient with myself. Its hard because much of the time an overwhelming sense of desperation completely annihilates my sense of security and faith in the future– and it can be so bad I have a hard time breathing second to second.

I really need the next week and a half to pass swiftly.