Trigger Warnings for this post.
So how was my week?
Super, depressing, furious, and lastly hopeful. I gave my week a chance and I’m better for it. I’m better for jumping in and getting the help I needed. Basically, I went to a psychiatric hospital and lived. I did more than live, I survived and obtained the tools needed to help save my life. You see, I have a 20% chance of relapsing and not surviving. Not living.
I guess I should jump to the middle of it, and possibly the memories I once held so tight and so precious. I’ve been using a app called Time Hop and when it shows the past from my Facebook, Instagram, or whatever else you had, my heart stops. There are memories, bad and good ones.
But I certainly found this gem among the rubble, my rubble:
I’ve started over and over again so many times, it never is easy, but I’m still able to pick up the pieces of my life. Maybe I’m stronger than I realize?
I haven’t been well, and though I tried to see if I could rejoin the workforce by using DARS, which of course is a big acronym that basically is rehabilitation services and vocational study. I don’t know if I’m proud of this or scoffing at the idea. At this point where my depression is triggered by anything so minor or anything so major, could I really be ready for the workforce again? I’m not on disability despite being denied, though I think it is a mistake.
It will take time, and by their observations if they can tell, but I went to DARS because my therapist suggested it. Suggested so much. I’ve been so suicidal, and so urgent in my ways. If I wasn’t too depressed to move, then I’d probably do something something regretful, but my meds help me have my head, and keep control which is something, even though I want relief. Tomorrow is tough. Why can’t I keep Effexor? I want to. It helps me not to be a zombie and it’s the first anti depressant that actually worked. It helps curb my hunger and helps me be free, but it’s my fault for letting triggers get to me. Moving has been the stressful and my family the second.
It shall pass, it has to. I think at this point that no one can do anything for me, and that finding my center will help any. I’m suffering from depression. Do you think I want to hear that, no matter how helpful you want to be? I don’t think Buddhism or any religion is fitting for me, seeing as I reject it out of hand, and seeing as I was Christian and hated it. I watched as my faith died down. My faith was never strong, but what has been strong is my suspicion and doubt. Terrible qualities I know, but there we go.
I could never be worked over in believing in something greater than me. I rather focus on the here and now, and live in the present, but my depression, however temporary, makes it difficult. It too, shall pass. I know it will, just when is the question. Tomorrow, changes will be had.
I have appointments with both therapist and psychiatrist, almost back to back before I need some help and some relief. I don’t feel like committing myself because I’m too afraid. Too afraid to be put back in handcuffs or realizing the mess I made.
But it shall pass.
It always does. I just have to be strong and level headed about this. I can’t let my triggers and whatever else is hurting get to me.
Though on the plus side, we should be getting our deposit, as last friday, July 11th was sort of our last day at the apartment. We cleaned and turned the keys in and hopefully will know after a month if we get the deposit back. I can’t wait. I know we all did a top notch job cleaning!