Tomorrow will be 2 weeks since I made Ryan take me to the hospital for emergency mental health services.
In the scale of my Entire Life, 2 weeks is not long at all, and rationally, I know that- but 14 days of feeling like this feels like an Eternity when you’re the one going through it.
I’ve tried describing it to a few friends recently, and I said it’s kind of like living outside of your own body.
When Lucy does something that I know is funny, I’ll laugh out loud, but I Feel nothing in the moment.
That mirth, that little spark of joy that comes when you laugh- I don’t have that.
When I wake up in the morning, it’s with a jolt of panic, like Oh My God- You Have to Live One More Day.
I get sweaty and my heart starts racing at the idea of being in my own home, with my self, and my baby.
My home- that I love.
My baby- that I love.
And my self- who I normally love.
When I wake up in the morning, I look at the day as a neverending string of minutes, laying ahead of me in an impossibly long line.
Minute upon minute, hour upon hour, that I have to get through.
Every day I look at Ryan for confirmation and say: ‘Just survive one more day, right?’
Because that’s the biggest of my goals right now.
Not clean the house, make a meal, leave the house, see a friend, go for a walk-
My Biggest goal right now is just to survive one more day.
That sounds so dramatic, but when the deepest part of depression is suicidal ideation- and as a mother, I won’t even Let myself think the word, let alone the thoughts- basic survival during depression is fucking Hard.
That feeling that you get when you get to turn on the TV and get to watch your Favorite show? I don’t have that.
That feeling you get when you get excited to make yourself a little snack? I don’t have that.
That feeling you get to pick up your phone and have a little chit chat over text with someone? I don’t have that.
That feeling you get when you get to sneak off and have a nice little nap? I don’t have that. I want to sleep the minutes away, but anxiety says ‘Nope.’
That feeling of forward motion that propels us in our daily lives to do things like go to work, check our phones, clean our houses, answer our emails, do a workout, meet up with a friend- I don’t have that.
Sleep doesn’t feel restful, food doesn’t taste good, social commitments feel scary, and I haven’t felt genuine joy for over 2 weeks.
I just read that all back to myself, and I think I’ve done a good job of describing it. I wasn’t going to post anything more about my depression because, well, it’s depressing! But I also think that while I’m in this space, I should try and do a good job of describing what depression feels like from the inside, for my readers who may be fortunate enough to not know what it feels like firsthand.
I’m going to end this post on a high note, if I can.
Ryan says that every day, he sees small, incremental improvements in my mood/behaviours. He says I’m getting better, day by day, and while I don’t necessarily feel it myself, I trust his judgment.
Yesterday, I spoke with my psychiatrist and she said that my recent lithium levels came back and that they’re in the therapeutic range. My numbers need to be between 0.6 and 1.0 to be effective, and they’re at 0.86. Yay!
She said now that my lithium is back at therapeutic levels, we just have to sit back and wait for it to do it’s magic. She said it won’t happen overnight; but that I will gradually start feeling better, day by day.
So, here I am.
Surviving one more day.
PS- A lot of you have reached out and said some really kind things about me. Thank you for giving me some hope during a time where Me is pretty damn mean to Me. When I’m really low, I read back your kind words and feel better. Thank you for tossing me some ropes down the well.