Tuesday, September 25, 2012

visiting deeper depression

You know when the deeper depression comes for a visit? How one moment I think, "How did I get this low (never mind the warning signals)?" Yet on the other hand, it is so familiar, it is as if I never left. I try to tell myself, it might just be for tonight. That happens sometimes, at least for me. I get some sleep and a new day and I'm back to my normal level of depression, the one that is somewhere between mild and moderate (I think), that I think of as so much better because it is so much better.

So maybe tomorrow, I'll feel better. But for now, I will chronicle my sad struggle with depression and hours worked (at a paying job). I wanted to be able to tell my counselor tomorrow, "Oh, it worked out with me still working afternoons. It's fine." Or, if not that, "My psychiatrist agreed that I should stop working afternoons." You know, something definite that does not involve me being responsible for stopping working afternoons, or that at least quiets the judgmental voice in my head.

Of course, if I'm afraid of a judgmental voice in my head, I should consider what judgments would be worse, since it doesn't seem likely to shut up at this point. Do I want the deeper depressed thoughts? Or do I want to feel like I'm not working enough. Oh, and yeah, I did think of how by now, chances are I'll get both of those singing in my head. Singing is the wrong word. Chanting would be better.

When I talked to my non-depressed friend, it seemed so logical and doable to merely discuss my desire to get off work after 8 hours. When the work week comes, however, for starters, my assertiveness is used up on daily work without supporting me in talking to my boss. And then, I'm super at justifying my plan to keep working as if I had no depression problem. Like today, the work time went well. I started home thinking I wanted to go swimming at the gym. But by the time I got home and sat on my couch to watch a dvd while eating supper, well, I didn't want to do anything besides watch more and more episodes of this tv show. And the depressed thoughts were happy to pop back up when I took a break from watching the tv.

So it is classic, annoying depression.

And a classic, indecisive moment for me.

And I think to myself, if I could only justify taking the afternoons off in my mind. And now I wonder, did OCD steel that opportunity? Will there never be assurance? Fake conscience, am I stuck with you?

Probably. So now that I know I'm just going to be bugged by my fake conscience, period, maybe I can move on... by talking to my counselor again. When will I stop trying to remove the responsibility from myself? But if I have the responsibility, I might fail. Hah, I have the responsibility, and I might fail, short term. But in the interest of a happy blog post ending, how about I switch to thinking about the present, not what I should or shouldn't, can or can't, will or won't do about the future.

Like right now. I can go to bed as soon as I take my shower. And bed sounds nice. Last night, sleep had its share of bad dreams (people chasing me, believe it or not) and sweat. But at least momentarily, this night, I will enjoy playing solitaire and falling asleep. And tomorrow I see my counselor. See, Abigail, it will be okay, at least the next twenty-four hours will, and that is as far as I need to worry about right now. Funny how much relief I get out of breaking time into smaller pieces and only dealing with a more manageable segment.

Oh, and I enjoyed tap dancing class. I did go into my shell by the end. But it was in the evening. And maybe as I continue lessons, I wont retreat into my shell as much. And I'm referring to the less-intentional shell crawling. When I just seem to start shutting down, though I can keep a good face on top, usually.


  1. Abigail, I can relate to the deeper depression and the difficulty in making decisions. I think they go hand in hand. I'm sorry you're going through this. I think breaking up time in manageable components is a good idea. "One day at a time." I'll be thinking about you.

    1. Thanks Tina. I forgot about depression making decision making harder. No wonder I was having trouble. :)

  2. Oh, Abigail. I'm sorry for all this anguish you are suffering.

    Thinking of you...