Tag: depression

I’m Just A Shell

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

Had a bad day today. I have a trip starting tomorrow and won’t be back until Thursday afternoon. It’s for work so it’s not even close to remotely fun.

The dogs were acting out, mainly Butch. He seemed mad at me. He kept barking at me all day and also at Freya. I spent a good portion of my day just yelling at my dogs. I feel like such a shitty dog parent. I know they’ll be okay – they behave better around my husband anyway.

We’re moving on Saturday and I’m only 25% packed. I started packing up the things I want to take to the hotel and I need to sort out the ones that can go into storage like spring and summer clothes, artwork, and a bunch of other things that won’t fit in the hotel.

I have to put together the gliders’ new cage and the dogs’ crates. I also have to set up the air purifier and the room essential oil diffuser.

I’ve been going through psychosis. My patience is non-existent, I am angry easily, I get annoyed at everything, I’m irritable, I’m going through mania, too. And the voices are back in my head. I think it’s the Ozempic. But I’m also under a lot of fucking stress.

I have an appt with my doctor tomorrow to address the psychosis and auditory hallucinations. I might ask to change my meds altogether. The Geodon she prescribed is not working. I don’t know if I’ll need a higher dosage, put me back on Abilify, or the last resort – lithium.

I also have therapy on Friday. I made a list of things I want to bring up during sessions. I’m probably going to log how each session went. I don’t know what I’m trying to get out of therapy. I’ve had 4 / 5 different ones. They all sucked. I hope this new one doesn’t.

I was hesitating doing therapy again because it’s hard for me to bring up the traumatic shit I went to. But all the anger, resentment, and unresolved trauma is building up and I’m most going to explode and that would not be good for anyone.

At this point, I’m feeling like a total fucking failure. I don’t want to do anything but sleep because it makes the anxiety go away. I really hate the way I’m feeling right now. I have intrusive thoughts – mostly suicidal thoughts.

I just gotta get through the next 4 days for this work trip and then figure out what to do with the long list of shit I have to deal with.

Mental Health Update

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. On top of major depression and generalized anxiety because the universe just hates my guts. 

I also found a new therapist. Not only do I need to work on my past trauma and also get through Felicia’s death, I have to start wrapping my head around my diagnosis. This is a lot to take, honestly. I don’t know if I should be relieved that there’s an explanation behind the things I do and accept it or continue to feel like shit because I am not built for this.

Living with major depression has been a struggle for me. It takes a lot out of me just to get through getting up in the morning and doing the most mundane tasks. Then the tiredness and occasional body pains. The suicidal thoughts, the feeling of worthlessness, feeling helpless, feeling overwhelmed…I could go on and on. It’s really a lot to deal with. Now that I have another mental health diagnosis on top of all that, it’s a lot to take. 

I know that this will be a work in progress. I’m a work in progress. But I’m glad I found a therapist who is willing to work with my issues (and she’ll probably need therapy once she gets to know me) and be there to help me come up with new coping skills. I don’t know exactly when I decided I was ready to be in therapy again but I feel like everything that I’ve been holding in and not addressing are weighing me down. 

Now that my kids are older and pretty much self-sufficient, I need to work on myself so I can be a better mom, wife, and person. Even if it means facing my demons. 

I Wrote A Suicide Note

Published on by A Girl & Her Wolves

Because…I don’t know. Because there are days when I’m terrified of tomorrow. Because tomorrow is unpredictable. Unpredictability terrifies me. Because I have so much bad shit going on around me that it’s literally tearing me apart inside. But at the same time, I’m clinging on to whatever sanity I have left and hoping for that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

I wrote a suicide note because if I do finally put an end to this “woe is me” life, there are no unanswered questions. It’s right there…the reason why I decided to strip the world of my existence. I wrote the reasons down…people I love wouldn’t have to ask why. The reasons would completely relieve them of what they could’ve done to prevent it. Because the reasons are there to say that there was no way it could’ve been prevented.

I wrote a suicide note because I don’t trust myself. I have been to that point in my life more than once when I tell myself that I’m done. Completely. That point when I’m so terrified to be alone because no one will stop me from swallowing whatever poison I could find. I was alone the last time I was in that dark place…clinging to life…my husband saved me. He didn’t let me die. He drove me to the hospital in tears while I begged for him to turn around and let me go. I didn’t have a suicide note then.

I wrote a suicide note and left it in my wallet to remind myself that I have something to live for. It’s a weird reminder, but it’s a reminder. I open my wallet every single day and every single day it’s a reminder that I am still alive. It’s a reminder that each and every single day, no one else knows what’s in that note. Only me and me alone.