Sunday, August 17, 2014

The Black Dog of Depression Keeps Sniffing Around

Life has been... challenging lately.

Everything came to a head with the loss of Robin Williams: his death has hit me really hard - I'm one of countless people who grew up with him in their lives, and his loss is felt deeply. I knew he had his struggles, but his death by suicide seems like it came from out of left field. To be completely cliche, I never would've thought someone who seemed so full of life and joy, who appeared to take such pleasure in making others laugh, could be in such a dark place. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: it absolutely guts me to know some people hurt so much that suicide seems like the only option.

I think part of what has bothered me the most is the notion that things could - theoretically - get bad enough that I might consider suicide myself. I'm NOT saying I'm suicidal or that I'm having suicidal thoughts: it's just the knowledge that depression can get that bad makes me feel very... fragile. Vulnerable. Scared.

And I think I'm scared because I'm pretty sure I've been ignoring Black Dog sightings for awhile. He's chased away the little self-esteem I had. His picking at my skin is damn near out of control. He keeps me from falling asleep at night, wakes me frequently, and keeps me from getting back to sleep in a timely fashion. He goes back and forth between scarfing all the food and chasing my appetite away. He's managed to swing my moods to and fro, day in and day out, leaving me anxious and uncertain. He's buried by ability to feel any desire to do, well, anything, in the backyard. He's made my back ache for days, something that hasn't been an issue for ages. He distracts me all the ti... SQUIRREL! He's sucked the energy and motivation right out of me.

I, of course, go into over-thinking introspection research mode: when did he first show up? why? what's different?

Did he first show up when we went back to BC and I had the "this doesn't feel like home anymore: I'm HOMELESS" moment? Or was it 9 hours into the trip home when I cried for the first time because we're so bloody far away?

Was it when I had the health scare (that turned out to be nothing)? Because Dog knows (see what I did there?) that's what first started this whole circus. Or was it disappointment over being told I couldn't donate blood for awhile because my iron's too low (even after the last fiasco (arm is STILL numb, BTW))? Because while it may seem trivial to some people, making that donation every 56 days has become extremely important to me.

Could it possibly be the iron supplements? Pretty sure Black Dog started showing up around the same time. Or maybe it's that the symptoms of low iron are good at mimicking Black Dog's bad behaviour?

Are Black Dog's visits cyclical? Is he "visiting" me every XX days/weeks/months/years?

Or maaaaaybe it's just been a shitty few weeks, and it's a warning week this week, and I just need to get over myself and stop hallucinating Black Dog?

To make Black Dog even more intimidating, I'm afraid to mention anything at work for reasons I'm not at liberty to discuss (I'm sure that those of you who know the field in which I work may be completely shocked and/or utterly confused by this, but there it is: don't want to risk my employment).

Snippet of conversation with a coworker in the staff room on Friday:
"I was really cranky yesterday."
"Really?!? I didn't notice a thing! You must hide it VERY well!"
"Well, I don't generally go out of my way to miserable to other people..."
Never let 'em see you sweat and all that jazz, right? Pin It

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

I'm Not Popeye the Sailor Man

We found a new doctor closer to home who didn't reschedule my appointment for a referral to a gynecologist three times before allowing me to see his associate who wrote the referral in front of me, which got lost, then resulted in me being told I'd have to go BACK for a fourth time to get the referral that had already been written. If you followed that sentence, YOU get to skip spinach at dinner tonight!

As new patients, he sent us for basic lab work to get a baseline of where we are health-wise. We had the lab work done on a Saturday; on the following Wednesday, the office called to book an appointment to review the results. As we finished up the call, she said something that made me confirm that the appointment was for Chebbar, too.

"Um, nooooo... He... didn't have abnormal lab results." Buh, wut?

I stressed (as in heart freaking palpitations) for three days until our my Saturday appointment rolled around. In the meantime, I tried to guess (*snort*) what it could possibly be; of course, because that's how I roll, I blamed myself and figured it was something I've done wrong/to myself - high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol (read: fat-girl problems). I did my damndest not to freak out because it wouldn't change anything, but, well, that's not how I roll.

At the appointment, the doctor beckoned me to the monitor to review the results with me. "That's good, that's good, oh that's very good..." We were at the second to last item, and my brain was screaming, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? NOTHING?!? I'VE BEEN HAVING HEART FREAKING PALPITATIONS OVER NOTHING???"

"Your iron is low." Buh, wut? Bwa ha ha ha ha haaaaa Once again (still?), I'm healthy, just overweight: my iron's a little low (10 when it should be between 12-300), but that can be remedied with prescription iron supplements and an iron-rich diet. I had mentioned our regular blood donations and that we had an appointment (this past Saturday), but the doctor didn't say anything.

My wise BPSMFF (Best Platonic Soul Mate Friend Forever) advised I cancel my blood donation appointment. Chebbar scoffed a little, thinking it wasn't really a big deal. When I called Blood Services and told them my iron score, the nurse went, "Yeaaaaah, NO. You can't donate for three months after starting the supplements."

Womp womp wommmmmp.

(Probably for the best, anyhow: my left arm STILL isn't 100% from being shanked stabbed last time.)

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Sunday, July 27, 2014

Sunday Sound-Off v. 124

Shared it:
  1. My beloved "square breathing" makes this list: 10 ways to boost your energy from World of Psychology.
  2. I struggle with this SO MUCH. 3 times you shouldn't delegate (and 3 you really should) by The Muse.
  3. It's rather comforting to know I do most of these. 4 ways we calm ourselves down without really knowing it via Huff Post's Third Metric.
  4. This one made me stop and think (dammit - lol). Addicted to helping: why we need to stop trying to fix people by Tiny Buddha.
  5. I've really been struggling with my body-focused repetitive behaviour (BFRB aka dermatillomania or skin picking) lately, so this one struck a hell of a nerve because, as much as I've vehemently denied it up to this point, I've come to realize that I'm engaging in a form of self-harm: stop the violence within from Spirituality & Health.
 But first, let me take a celfi.

Appreciated it:
  1. Clean sheets
  2. Help with dinner
  3. Making babies smile (3 for 3!)
  4. Biting into a crunchy apple
  5. Replacing my favourite wore-em-so-much-I-wore-em-out flats

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Friday, July 25, 2014

Alone in a Crowded Room

Yep. That's me right now. That's been me for a couple of weeks. Not sure when it started. Not sure how it will end. I'm just... tired. Tired of lonely. Tired of confused. Tired of scared. Tired of... everything. I'm overwhelmed, and I feel like I'm drowning, but I don't know why I feel overwhelmed, so I don't know where to even begin to fix it. 

Emo-word-vomit is the new black.
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