Stupid Anxiety and Depression

I think what is so interesting is that this disease almost works against you. Like it's a mental health sickness. So when I wonder why others don't feel this way and how it must be that they in fact DON'T feel this way, I have to remind myself that others are not sick. Like their brain doesn't fuck with them like mine does. So when I get really tired or want to be quiet or feel like it's better if I'm alone or have no motivation or determine what I think others must be thinking of me, that's the anxiety and depression talking, the trauma from my youth that resurfaces. When I get overwhelmed and I can't explain it to others and I feel silly or weak or wonder what's wrong with me, that's the stupid disease. It's a battle. Like the very nature of it works agains you. Know what I mean? Maybe you don't. I hope you don't. 

I first was diagnosed with GAD in Dec of 2012 after I had "heart attacks" for a week straight. Right after I got into bed. After the 3rd night, I realized it wasn't a heart attack because if it was, I'd be dead by now. So I told my counselor something was wrong with me and I needed help. He referred me to a psychiatrist. At my first appointment, she pulled out this little DSM book, flipped to a certain page, and passed the book to me. I was like, holy crap. Yes, that's what it feels like inside my brain.

I first was diagnosed with depression when I went through my divorce and failed fertility treatments. That the was the first time I had a "label" on it. It was somewhere around 2006-2007.

It doesn't mean I can't do stuff and function and be productive and normal. It just means I have to learn about and battle and understand and listen and take care of myself. And that's what I'm doing. So that I'm better for me and for everyone around me. 

Like my job. I'm a good teacher and I miss my kids. 

Last week because of the holiday schedules of everyone, I didn't have my weekly Monday night group, or my weekly acupuncture, or my weekly appointment with my herbalist/life coach, or my weekly appointment with my therapist, or my bi-weekly women's group. Nothing. I did have an appointment on Thursday with my regular doctor (whom I love) and she described me as currently being in moderate major depression.

So, I continue. Friday I was back to establishing my routines, back to listening to my body, back to reading and learning and reflecting and journaling. 

I just think it majorly sucks that the very nature of anxiety and depression is that it screws with your mind and makes what's in my brain seem so incredibly real. And it's hard to explain to others because they don't get it. 

Anyway, I am getting myself back. Bring on 2023.