I have never been properly diagnosed as being depressed. I was put on anti-depressants when my doctor thought I had a bit of the baby blues. I don’t think he understood the highs and lows that I was living with at the time and have only begun to get worse.
I think back now and realize that I have always had issues with it. I can remember having issues with my mind clear back to about the age of 8 or 9.
I have been keeping track the past year of my highs and lows. When I am on a high there is nothing that can upset me. I am go, go, go from the time my feet hit the floor in the morning. I get a ton of stuff done and even the kids don’t cause any stress. It’s like the perfect high without any drugs.
Then come the lows. And I can almost always tell when a low is getting ready to hit because I will have days in a row of being high and then BAM I wake up one morning and can only do the minimal of what it takes to function. Which is usually just keeping the kids alive.
I mope around and watch the clock wondering if it’s too soon to start drinking. Which I know isn’t good for my lows because even though at the time of catching that little buzz…I know that the next day I am going to be lower than I was that day. I am going to be snippier with the kids, with the husband, even with the damn dog.
I will hate the weather, the school run, showering, or even getting dressed. I will want nothing more than to sleep all day long.
But I can’t.
I tell myself over and over again just cheer the fuck up. You have nothing to be upset about. But sometimes the thoughts in my head are just unbearable and I decide to stop arguing with myself and realize that the depression always wins.
When I am on a high, I want to call all my friends and make plans to do stuff. Set up playdates, write great blog posts that are full of humor. I want to take the kids to every park and swing them as high as they want on the swing set. I want to take them for slurpees after and not care that they are bouncing off the walls doped up on sugar. I record them and we all laugh about it later.
I read them books and teach them. We do crafts and my time spent with them is almost like magic. But then it disappears.
And then when the low hits all those plans get cancelled.
My oldest is starting to understand that “mommy has sad days” he calls them. I have sat down and had discussions with him about why. I try the best way I know how to make him understand that I don’t choose to be this way. That no one with a mental disease does. And then I pray that him nor his siblings inherit it.
Lately the lows have been really bad and I find myself just not interested in anything anymore. Out of a 30 day month I am finding that only about a third of the month is good.
People say well maybe you should see a therapist. Yeah because that doesn’t cost a lot of money that I don’t feel like spending. I know it’s for my health but somehow I think I can fix myself with diet and exercise. Only lately the exercise is slacking and the eating right isn’t eating much at all.
I feel trapped in my own mind.