Sometimes I wonder what the point of life is. I go on day after day having trouble. Antidepressants don’t help. Counseling doesn’t help either. I’m told constantly how I’m just not believing enough in God. I’m a horrible Christian. I’m a horrible person. I get that. And thanks to all those people out there telling me that on a continual basis, I truly believe that. I do the best I can. It never seems to be enough for anyone. I don’t do this right; I don’t do that right. I don’t talk enough, I’m faking the sadness. I’m tired of crying. Tired of dealing wtih this. Tired of wondering when – or if – things are going to get better.
I haven’t started on the new medication yet. I just don’t want to ruin my vacation with weird side effects. The psychiatrist keeps asking me if I want to be on medications for the depression. Why the heck else would I be in her office? If I hear that question one more time, I’m not sure that I will want to come back. It makes me think that she feels that medications won’t help me. If medication won’t help, then quite frankly, I don’t want to keep struggling to get better. I don’t want to keep fighting a battle that I can’t win. I’d rather just give in and save my energy for something else. I go through so much; putting myself on the line and knowing that I’m going to be hurt just about every time. I’m tired of feeling like shit and knowing that I’m not going to get better.
I know suicide isn’t an option, but gosh this is so hard. It’s so hard to keep going and to know that I’m not going to get better. I know that suicide isn’t an option, but it’s still hard not to always go in that direction. To think about it first when anything happens. I know this makes me a horrible person, but I can’t help it. I do the best I can, which never seems to be enough.
Day 4 of the new planned trip included driving from South Dakota down to Wichita. Uneventful. That’s what it was, which sucks in a way. It was hard to make the trip and not see hardly any snow or ice or anything, after the problems we had two days prior. But since we got an early start, we got to watch the South Dakotan sunrise. It was simply awesome watching the sun rise over tons and tons of snow. Oh yeah, and the temperature that morning, as measured by the truck’s thermometer was –8. And actually, that didn’t feel nearly as cold as I thought it was. A short sleeved t-shirt, a sweater I wear to work, and then the goose down vest, and jeans. That’s all, and I wasn’t cold at all.
Anyways, we made it in to KS. It took about 11 or 12 hours, we had a stop for lunch, though. And of course that night, it snowed in KS. Which was just fine with me.
Day 3 of the trip ended up being a touristy thing in Mitchell, South Dakota, home to the world’s only Corn Palace. We started out the morning late, sleeping in, and taking our time. First stop was Cabela’s. No Cabela’s around Nashville, so this was a real treat! We spent a couple hours there, and I got myself a new goose down vest, socks, and some jewelry. Husband got my dad a birthday present. So shopping was done, at least for the morning…
Then we ate at Taco John’s which apparently is a fast food chain up there. Kind of like Taco Bell but fresher, and thus more expensive. In the afternoon we made it over to the Corn Palace. Apparently every year it is decorated with corn and other grains. The picture below is one of the murals inside the Corn Palace.
Then we did some more random shopping, Tractor Supply, Menard’s, then ate at the Depot in downtown Mitchell. After that we got back to the hotel, and ended up having to plug in the engine heater on the truck. At the hotel at 8 at night it was like 6 degrees outside, with a predicted low of –2. Actually 6 degrees didn’t feel too cold. There was no wind, so it wasn’t that bad.
Day 2 of the trip was supposed to be the trip from Omaha to Rapid City, SD. Things didn’t go as planned. Iowa was easy, got through there fairly quick. South Dakota things started to get dicey. This whole leg of the trip was supposed to take us 8 hours. Within a half mile of the Iowa South Dakota border, we found ourselves stuck in a median. A nice little sign announced that there was icy conditions, which was really nice considering that by the time we read it, we were in the ditch. It took two hours to get a tow truck out there. I will have to say that SD people were really cool. They stopped and offered us a ride to the nearest gas station up the street, but we decided just to stay put for the tow truck. Finally they came, but even they had trouble getting us out. It took them an hour with a winch to get us out.
Within ten minutes we were back in a ditch, this time our speed no more than 45 mph. After that, 4 wheel drive it was. 45 miles per hour and four wheel drive got really annoying very fast. After our nine hour day, we had only made it to Mitchell, SD. We found ourselves a hotel there, and cancelled our plans over in Rapid City. We lost one night’s cost at the hotel there, which kind of sucked. After talking about it, we decided to just cancel the whole Mt Rushmore – Pike’s Peak adventure and try it in the summer. While we could likely make it through, it would have meant we wouldn’t have much time at any one spot. So, we decided to take it easy, do the touristy thing in Mitchell, and then head to hubby’s aunt/uncle/cousins down in Kansas.
So our vacation this year was going to be a trip to South Dakota and then a quick stop at Pike’s Peak then out to Kansas to visit some relatives. Apparently a big blizzard hit South Dakota for Christmas. You know, about 19 inches of snow.
But day 1 of the trip was fairly uneventful. We left around 6:30 am and I drove from my parent’s house to Columbia Missouri. We stopped in Columbia at a Wal Mart to pick up some wine. Hubby drove from Columbia to Bellevue Nebraska, where we stayed at a Microtel Inn for the first night. The hotel was cool, and had a decent breakfast the next morning.
Snow… snow… snow. Snow started around St Louis, and continued for most of the drive in to the hotel. By Columbia the snow was starting to get worst, so that’s why hubby drove. By Nebraska, lots of snow was on the ground. We didn’t really stop for lunch that day, but did eat Chinese buffet for dinner.
Someone next to the hotel made this little snow man.
Christmas was another busy day. Our presents in the morning and then my uncle’s in the afternoon. Most presents from my husband I already knew what they were. Except for one. The last present I opened up. I had asked my husband for a laptop, we discussed which would be the best to get. He was supposed to pick one up at the store, but told me that night when he got home that they were all sold out. I was checking other Staples in other cities that we were planning for on vacation to see if they had it. Apparently my man had already bought one. He had gotten the last one of those laptops in Nashville, which was cool. Total surprise. I like this laptop alot. Hopefully it will last longer than the last one I had.
Then off to my uncle’s which was cool. We got him a metal detector, and he seemed to like it a lot. I’m not sure if everyone liked our gifts, I hope they do/did. My parents got us some cool stuff. And some money. Money is always cool. 🙂
Today I have an appointment with the psychiatrist. I have written a letter, but that doesn’t take the fear of possibly having to talk about everything away. I’m afraid of having to talk about stuff, not just because I don’t know her that well or whatever, I’m just plain afraid of talking about it with anybody. It’s like I have these things I want to say, but I get so dizzy and afraid of talking about them.
I’m still taking the medicine the doctor prescribed. I’m groggy 24/7 and I have a constant headache. I’m exhausted, and the depression has actually gotten worse. I’m tired of having to fight the side effects of the antidepressants, the medicines that are supposed to be helping me. I’ve lost all hope of ever getting better. I honestly don’t want to keep doing this. I don’t want to keep trying. What’s the point in putting so much energy in to something when it just seems like I’m spinning my wheels? I feel like a hamster on one of those wheels that just spin and spin. No matter how much they run on it, they’re still where they started at. That’s how I feel. No matter what I do, how much work I put in to it, I’m right where I started at, except exhausted. I know I’m just spinning my wheels, that I’m not going to get better. I have just been fighting this for several months or several years. Almost 20 years now. The thought of having to face this for quite a while longer is hard. For so long I’ve been fighting this, and trying to get better. What happens if this is as good as it gets?
One of the side effects of this new antidepressant seems to be wanting to die again. No not wanting to die but wanting to actually do something about it. But this is okay. I’ve been here for such a long time in my life that it’s a normal feeling for me. At this point, there have been just as many years suicidal as not. In a way, I want to stay on the new antidepressant causing this feeling. I want to explore it more; to actually come up with a decision I can accept.
I wish I could talk to my husband about what is going on. I wish I could tell him how I am feeling. Hell, I wish I could tell anyone how I’m feeling. The words escape me, though, when I need them to be there. I’m left wondering how I’m supposed to tell someone I love how deeply depressed I am when I don’t understand the feelings. All anyone can see is what is going on on the outside, which apparently I appear okay. No one understands how I feel inside. I want them to, but I don’t know how to convey everything I’m feeling to another human being.
Right now, as babyish as it sounds, I just want someone to hold me when I cry. Not to ask questions, but tell me, even if they don’t believe it, that I’m going to be okay.
So, day 1 of Celexa/Deplin mix: I am in a complete fog and have a headache.
Day 1 after the Celexa/Deplin mix: The foggy like feeling has gone away, well sort of. The headache, unfortunately, is still there. I’m exhausted too. I went to bed with the headache last night; and woke up with one. I can’t ever remember doing that in my entire life.
I will try again tomorrow night. I think. I want what I did take out of my system so I can ascertain whether the headache was caused by the medicine or change in weather. I’m leaning towards medicinal caused though; it’s just too coincidental. It also occurred to me that I will be still trying this medicine while on vacation. Won’t it be fun to drive 3,000 miles while my head is in a fog? Should be even more interesting as we are planning on going north on vacation. Snow + foggy brain = fun times, no?
Or I guess I could just reschedule my appointment for after I come back from vacation, and just start the medince then. Really, after 19 years of depression, what’s an extra month? Or I could just go back at my regularly scheduled time and just tell her that Celexa sucked and Deplin is as expensive as hell. Or I could just not go back. Every time I start on a new medicine, I suddenly remember the reason why I hate medicines. Side effects that I hate. Or if no side effects, then knowing that what ever I’m taking has absolutely positively no friggin effect on me kind of gets me down. Well, lots more than kind of.
I have a big deadline tomorrow. I haven’t eaten lunch beyond a couple of cookies in the last two days. You would think I would be losing weight, right? Nope, all I’m doing is getting used to not eating. Somehow the familarility of not eating is um, comforting. How sick and twisted is that? Though that hamburger and fries do sound good right now. So, great I now am starting to lose my appetite.
Oh yeah, and the depression: it’s still there. The only good thing about the Celexa was instead of focusing on how depressed I am, I focus on how much pain I’m in AND how depressed I am. Sort of like that old trick that my dad used to play. Oh, you skinned your knee, here let me punch you to take your mind off the skinned knee. Didn’t work then; doesn’t work now.
So, I have a question, why do doctors in general want to reinvent the wheel? Why is it I can’t go in a doctor’s office and tell them I’ve had a test done, and they believe me with the results? Why do I have to go and have it redone, me and my insurance company paying the bill? Hmmm… and people wonder why medical costs and insurance costs are high. When I have to have a test redone each time I start a new doctor just because with no other reason than that, it starts to get danged annoying.
Why should I trust doctors if they won’t trust me? Everytime I trust them, I get hurt. I put my heart in to it, just to be hurt. For once someone else has to go out on a limb for me first. Someone has to prove to me that there is a reason for me to trust them before I will trust them.
And then again, maybe I should just start lying and say I’ve never seen anyone before about the depression besides my current counselor. If I do that, then at least I’ll be taken more seriously. Nope, I have no problems with any of my previous doctors, because after paying all this money for services, I don’t actually ask anything of the doctor. Maybe it would be just better if I never inquired about test results (it’s not like anyone would call me up if something was wrong anyways, so what’s the point in taking the time to keep badgering them about it). After all, I want to die anyways, why keep making sure I’m healthy? Why take an active role in my care, when it’s held against me when I do?
I don’t know why I feel so bad all the time. I was asked that last night. Apparently I’m supposed to be an intelligent young lady, and therefore know this answer. So, therefore I should know why I can go from deeply depressed but stable to not stable in a matter of milliseconds. I guess I should get used to being dumb. I think I’m comfortable with that.
I guess if nothing else, this whole thing has allowed me to be a bit more open with my husband, even just a teeny bit. It’s still hard to tell him some things. How do I admit to someone that I believe genuinely loves and cares about me that I want to die? How do I admit that I’m that selfish, that horrible of a person? How do I tell him about the self-injuring? How I don’t remember a lot of what leads up to being upset?
Underneath the smiles and strongness, the craziness of the thoughts inside…
A coworker brought in a little magnet thing that is a quote from Winston Churchill “If you’re going through hell, keep going” Question: what if hell is infinite? If it is, that just means no matter how much I walk, how much I run, how much I keep going, I’m always going to be there. At least that’s how I feel. Always. I have no hope of ever getting out of hell. Of anything ever working out for me.
Sometimes I wonder if I did something bad that God feels the need to punish me for. I just wish I knew what it was, so I could apologize and I maybe then I won’t be punished anymore.
So, another teary day. It’s hard to wipe the tears and keep going knowing how much everything is breaking inside. It’s like nothing fits together anymore, and I can’t keep this up. I have to be a strong person at work. A strong person at home. But all I feel like doing is sleeping and crying. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I know people get tired of talking to me about the depression. Of thinking I’m just a stupid person because I don’t get what is apparently obvious to so many other people. But I can’t help it. I guess I am just dumb.
I’m starting with a new psychiatrist today. About the only reason I am going is because my counselor suggested it. I’ve thought about calling over and over again to cancel the appointment. Heck, I don’t even know why I made the appointment in the first place. Maybe it was more to prove the counselor wrong, that nothing is going to work anymore. I just don’t want to try anymore. I don’t want to have to take any medicine and think long enough whether or not I feel any minute difference. I want everything to end. I want the pain to stop. The thoughts to stop. Me to stop.
I’m sunk unless the pyschiatrist has good forms to fill out. If I have to tell my “story”… well, what is my story. I have a great home, great husband, job, and want to die. I’m selfish because I have a great life and I can’t be happy. Yes, I had a rough life growing up. Who didn’t. Everyone else is getting along okay. I mean what am I supposed to say when someone asks me what’s wrong? I want to die. Why? Hmmm… How the hell should I know. I cut. What triggers it? Well, if I could remember that, I would avoid the trigger, now wouldn’t I? It’s hard going through this life. And it shouldn’t be. I have just about everything I could ever want, well except for 20 million dollars or so.
So what the bloody hell am I missing?