I don’t know why. My doctor did figure out that I had a big B12 deficiency and told me it would take a while to get back to normal, and that could affect my mental health. So I guess that’s why, but being sad sucks. And it’s scary if you’re prone to depressive episodes that can make you suicidal. I don’t want to go down that road. Who does?
It makes me extra sad because I’ve been so happy previously this year. Knowing how happy and productive I can be makes me even sadder. And more sensitive. I actually got upset earlier this week because my NAMI team didn’t nominate me for an award. 1. I have enough awards. 2. That’s not what I do any of this for 3. I swear just one week ago I was featured in a magazine article, what more could I want?
But my intrusive thoughts — thoughts that I am not in control of — told me I was useless and that nobody valued me. And I let myself believe it because that’s one of my innermost fears. I’ve been an advocate for mental health since 2018, never expecting anything. Never believing that anything would come from it, so it’s unbelievable that something has, and I’ve grateful for all of it. I swear. It’s just this funk that I’m in.
Next week we’re supposed to go to Disney World. I’ll slip on my Minnie ears and don my Disney shirt that matches my daughter’s. I’m sure I’ll have fun, even.
Right now I countdown the hours until I can take a nap or go to bed. I do my best during the hours I’m awake, but tears crowd my eyes knowing I might wake up tomorrow feeling the same way, even though I pray so hard it doesn’t, and I envision a happy day.
But you know, even on a sad day like today, it’s still a million times better than when I was in my worst depressive episode. That’s what I need to remember. And all of a sudden, things are lookin better.
As always, it’s coming up Heather Loeb.
