I hit the ground hard. Like really hard. I was quite depressed. I was suicidal, and making plans. One night while sleeping on the couch I almost got up and got my pills and was going to walk out the door and just end it all. I was failing at work, failing at school, failing at home, failing at life in general. I was not in a good place. I tried to talk to Andrea several times but always just felt more alone anytime I tried.
I know this came at the worst time ever. I know it was her biggest fear that I would get depressed when she needed me most. And I feel awful that I was/am in that place. She felt alone, I felt alone - we were just existing and I was doing a poor job at that.
My work was piling up on my desk because I just couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself. it all seemed so pointless. I felt like I was on the verge of being fired - and am only now clawing my way back up through the mess I created for myself. I stopped going to classes, and as a result missed my mid term. It took coming clean to my professor and the head of the department about my bipolar and depression in order for me to get a second chance at this thing. I can't waste this chance. It all still seems like so much work, and I am still not back to functioning completely. I'm worried about my future.
Every time I enter a depression whether mild or severe it gets harder and harder to rationalize with myself. This isn't something I want to live with for the rest of my life. This isn't something I want to subject others with. It's just going to keep happening, and even if I get a hold on it now it is just going to come back at some point. There is no cure. This is a life long fight and not one that I think I am prepared to fight. Sure, I can fight it now, this time - but what about next time?
I did email Wiggers, and we upped my anti-depressant, and I guess that seems to be helping. I am not suicidal anymore - which I think was the main goal. I still don't see the point of most things though. I still can't feel feelings. I still don't have half the energy of a normal person. I'm still struggling. I'm tired of struggling.
I still weigh 200lbs and am incredibly self conscious. I refuse to buy myself clothes, or be bought clothes, because I am ashamed of my body size. I have two pairs of work pants that fit me - one pair are maternity pants so that feels great. I have a limited number of shirts and I am thanking my lucky stars that its fall, and soon winter, so I can cover myself up with one of the two sweaters that fit me. I don't like being touched. Maybe if I could get out of my head a bit it wouldn't bother me so much, but I live in my head. I am always aware of how big I am, and I am big. I have no self confidence, which I am sure does not help my depression. *sigh*
Sometimes I feel like a waste of space...a lot of space.