A few days ago I talked about some intrusive thoughts about dying and my depression getting a bit worse. Since May I’ve felt like I’ve been fighting a little depressive episode. It wasn’t terrible, but it’s not great. So I asked my psychiatrist for an emergency appointment for Monday. As soon as I made the appointment, I felt relief. My shoulders felt less tense and I noticed that I didn’t really hold anything in. If I felt like crying, I did. If I needed an extra nap, I took one. Then after my appointment on Monday, I explained, through tears, to my coworkers that I was depressed and and needed help.
I realized, as I was fighting this months-long episode, that I was holding stuff in. And I have no idea why! I mean, I’m an open book when it comes to depression, so I don’t know why I would do that. Unless it was self-preservation. I agreed to fight this bout of depression and I did everything I needed to do to fight (therapy, meds, self-care, good sleep, etc.), so maybe I was trying to make it easier on myself and not admit how bad it really was. I don’t think this was about anyone else knowing how bad it was. But the thing is, I think I went too long fighting without asking for help. You don’t have to keep suffering — there’s always help. If you just ask.
Now I’m letting it all hang out. So, I’m miserable. I can’t wake up on time. I need a shower. I cry a lot. I want to be alone, but my husband is keeping me from isolating, which is good. I’m exhausted. I haven’t been able to do self-care.
But I’m hopeful. My psychiatrist made medicine recommendations and also suggested I try ketamine treatments again so I have a call into the clinic where I used to go. It could be a couple weeks before the medicine to work, but in the meantime, maybe I can hop back on the treadmill in the mornings and get a little boost. If you sleep in your workout clothes, it’s easier to workout, I find.
The moral of this story is that yeah, sometimes you have to fight depression but not so hard where you’re holding your feelings in. Get that shit out. Be you, be raw. If you can’t explain how bad it is, it’s hard to get the help you need.
And we all deserve help.
