The Middle of the Ocean
March 12, 2015, 2:22 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

People keep asking what they can do for me. I don’t know what to tell them.

When you are in the middle of a severe depressive episode, you don’t know what to ask for.

I feel like I have swum out into the middle of the ocean. I am very tired of swimming. I am a capable swimmer and I can keep swimming, but I am tired. Waves of emotions constantly try to drag me below the surface, and sometimes I find myself submerged too far and have to paddle vigorously to take a breath of fresh air. People are around me; some are also swimming, though they don’t appear to be as exhausted as me. Others are on boats, circling me from the safety of a dry, solid surface. They all extend hands but I don’t know which hands to take, if any. All seem slightly out of my reach. Relief is constantly out of reach, lately.

I was put on a new medication last week. It’s a sublingual tablet which is a fancy way of saying it’s a pill that dissolves under my tongue. It tastes like toilet cleaner and makes my mouth sting as it dissolves. It puts me to sleep almost immediately and I wake up in a near zombie state every morning. I have been on this new medication for a week now and have felt no change. But, as always, I am being told to be patient. These things take time, you see. It will get better.

My psychiatrist recommended a stay at a inpatient program to help get my medication routine under control and intensive therapy. I declined. Staying in a hospital for something like this is not something I am ready for.

Instead, I set up an appointment with an actual therapist, not just a doctor that changes my medication when sometime goes wrong. I have to wait two more weeks for this appointment. These things take time, you see. It will get better. Relief is coming. The hand is outstretched.

I would say that I have been severely depressed for about a month now, and to some of you who know me, you may not have even noticed. That’s because I’m strong. I’m damn strong. I go to work every single day and I smile and I do not falter in any of my responsibilities. But rest assured, I am a mess inside. The waters are getting choppy and I am paddling hard to keep my head above the waves. I am strong, but no one can be that strong for that long and I am hoping that the end of my strength does not come before my appointment. I am hoping I make it to the safety of the shore.

But what can I do?

What can anyone do when they just have to hold on a tiny bit longer but they feel their muscles giving out, when every movement is a struggle and the effort is taxing to stay above water.

I suppose the answer is simple; especially for me, especially for everyone who has a child and therefore has no choice. Even though it is a great effort to remember to feed her; to hug her tight; to bathe her. Even though I feel exhausted and that I cannot go on. Even though I feel that my mind has forged war fully against me, and is perhaps gaining too much ground. Even though I oscillate between feeling nothing and everything on an almost hourly basis.

There is only one answer.






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