On Tuesday morning I made a full confession to My Good Egg that I was struggling with what can only be politely described as a “bout of depression” of the EPIC PROPORTION.
I feel a lot like one of those fine bone china tea cups that are being rocked on the saucer, with all the hot tea spilling out. At any moment the tea-cup is going to fall over, spill out over of the edge of the saucer and break into a million little pieces.
<side bar: I am the tea-cup in this analogy.>
I was very anxious and stressed around the girl’s birthday party. I totally lost my mind about picking out paper plates and serviettes. EVEN at the time, I knew this was not important in the bigger picture.
Well my rational mind knew that, but where the rest of my mind lives, rational is too scared to go.
I was freaking out – and when Kennith bought the “fairy” ones and I wanted the “princess” ones I still ran around to two more stores (after the easy 6 I had been to) seeing if I could still find princess ones.
When I start making these kind of heavy decisions about throw-away tableware, then you know it is time for Valium and a padded room.
I have been aware of it for some time, and then I thought, okay, well maybe you are just in a bad mood. This, if I must be truthful, is a bit more than just a bad mood.
I am in the downward slide down the rabbit hole of a depressiive episode. I am desperately grabbing at dirt as I slide down in my little blue dress with the big white bow on the back.
I spoke to My Good Egg this morning as I was sure that the only option was to get a script of Zoloft or something similar. I seldom discuss “my ebbs’ with Kennith as he knows when they are occurring and gives me the necessary space to move through them, and I usualy move through them.
But I am not moving through this one. And I feel like I am being swallowed alive. I am not coping. I cannot cope.
I had a good cry – actually it was not a good cry,it was a snot sob which I dripped on to Kennith’s work shirt.
I have a cache of (totally misguided and inappropriate) anger, rage and spite bubbling under the surface – no idea where it comes from. It is not directed at anyone or anything, and spares no one. I mean really, what the hell have I got to be angry about??
I feel persecuted - “they” are watching me and “they” are out to get me. I have absolutely no idea who “they” are. But I feel aggressive if someone starts asking me for something. (My job requires people to ask me for things all day, you can imagine how that is going.)
I have learnt to manage my depressive episodes better as the years have gone by (this however is not a good example of that statement).
The (not so) funny thing about depression ebbs is when I am in them, I believe in my heart of hearts that they will never end.
I am frazzled, I am further down than I have been in what seems like an age, and I am not coping.
I am actually spinning out of control.
We are going away for the long (it’s only a long weekend if you take Friday off work) weekend to the most divine place – I call it my “waiting to exhale” place.
When we get there, I sit and look out over the hills and hear the cows going “mooooo” and the wine in my glass catches the light over the valley. I let out a breath that I feel I have been holding for what feels like forever.
The part that stresses me, is in my present “state,” I am bound to do or say something to alienate someone if not everyone this weekend.
It is not “if” it will occur, it is merely a case of “when” it occurs.
With that in mind I decided that the best course of action, was to just tell our friends so that they could prepare (and allow them the opportunity to arm) themselves for the weekend:
I am in the throes of a full scale depressive episode – of what can only be described of EPIC PROPORTIONS.
This particular bout is characterized by my inability to follow a conversation, my overriding urge to start talking about the most awkward things possible, my inability to take social cues, an urge to alienate people by offending them, and the fact that my brain is not able to process what you say versus what I hear, and a few other
delicious issues ……ah the fun I am having.
No, this is not an opening line to a joke, this is unfortunately where I am right now.
It has been going on for several weeks, but this week is total “wheels fkn falling off stuff” so this email is a warning/word of caution that odds are I will try to find something to say or do this weekend that is bound to piss you off/alienate you/wonder if you can find a spade to kill me with/look at me and wonder how long you will need to count before you just slap me ….. you know that sort of stuff.
There is a good chance I might incite all these feelings in you simultaneously, and odds are I might have already.
I am seriously freaking out, and Kennith and I have discussed possible ‘action strategies’ to get me through my present ‘spell’ – I suggested Zoloft, lots of wine and a cliff, he suggested a few other options.
We are trying his options in the short-term, however I reserve the right to use mine.
So, please try not to be (permanently) offended by my actions/what falls out of my mouth this weekend/Tourette’s Syndrome – I am trying my best to keep it under control, but it is rather epic and a bit out of hand right now, so just warning you that
what I say or do right now (no matter how bizarre it might seem, and I can
always promise you bizarre) is not a personal attack on you in any way, and I
am a total twat, and and and …….
I am also not suggesting that this is a “free get out of jail card” for me, as I also need to take responsibility for my actions/what I say, but if you can please just keep this in mind while you watch me having a total senseless rant, usually in the kitchen, in my blue grubby bathrobe, with a wine glass in my right hand and a child on my left hip
Okay, so when you pack your groceries, please pack some Valium (for you) and maybe some forgiveness fairy dust for me.
PS: I am drafting letters of apology now that I will just send off on Monday morning, so I will leave them in my draft tray now.