MAY 16, 2007

Posts have been few lately, thanks to raging bouts of depression and insomnia. It started with a severe uptick in depression awhile back, and I was doing ok dealing with that - not happy about it, mind you, but managing to get by - but then insomnia also flared up to an extreme and having to contend with both severe depression and sleep deprivation started taking me apart at the seams.

It may seem odd to those who have never experienced severe insomnia that something as seemingly banal as a lack of sleep could so thoroughly devastate your life, but night after night after night of not being able to sleep, despite how exhausted you are, not only takes a toll on you physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. And I have been the epitome of not doing well the last month or so, ekeing through the days hating myself and life and cursing all the things that contribute to these problems.

But, for however much it chagrins me to admit, this latest decent into hell is my own fault, although probably needless to say I didn't plan or hope for this to happen. After the miscarriage/d&c in February, my doctor told me to take a break from exercise and, while nothing can usually stop me from my walks, I felt so bad physically and emotionally that I was more than willing to comply. That, and I also stopped taking my meds around that time, which wasn't intentional but just a knee-jerk reaction to all that was going on.

I guess you could say the second miscarriage took more of a toll on me than the first, a greater toll than I expected or realized and I let myself go after it. I was aware of it at the time, knew I was slacking off in taking care of myself, but that seemed normal, a natural process of sorts, in the wake of what happened in the previous months. Two problem pregnancies and two traumatic pregnancy losses within six months. Who wouldn't mope after that? Especially when it was followed by a bout of kidney stones.

But I should know better. When you suffer from severe depression, you have to stay on your toes 24/7 in the battle against it. If you don't stay vigilant, you're just opening the door to relapse and inviting it in for tea and crumpets, which is what I did. I let depression get its foot in the door and it barged right in and took over, inviting its friends insomnia and anxiety along for the party, and they utterly trashed the place before I knew what was happening. I quickly went from feeling blue to being locked in a bionic half nelson of depression and I've been kicking and screaming in the grips of that depression ever since.

So it's time to go head to head with the monster of depression again and battle it back into submission. I'd much prefer to be able to kill the damn beast and rid my life of it once and for all but, short of being lobotomized, that will never happen, so I have to keep fighting. Granted, a lobotomy or electroshock therapy does sound tempting sometimes but, since I'm not keen on having my brain fricasseed, I'll stick to the good ol' method of exercise, eating healthy, and half assedly taking my meds. Actually, I've promised both myself and Ross that I will do a much better job of taking my meds so I guess you could say I'm not messing around with the half assed approach to this anymore. From here on out, it's a two buns up full assed assault on depression.

So, it begins, the ascent from the depths of despair.

listening: depeche mode . reading: --

walk: 30 minutes . weight lost: 9 pounds

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