It’s happened again, I’ve fallen back into a depression. Ah, the “joys” of depression, where no matter what I do I feel depressed. Why oh why did it have to come back? I just don’t understand.
It’s such a weird feeling, too. Like there’s this heaviness on my brain. Not a hurting heaviness like a headache or a sinus pressure when having a cold. It’s just like there’s a density that fogs up my brain and makes me want to cry.
And I try to talk myself out of it. I really do. I tell myself my life is great, and how lucky I am that I have an understanding and loving husband, a roof over my head, food on the table, a steady job, family and friends who care for me, no life drama, and I’m alive.
Yet, I still feel the heaviness.
It’s strange, though. I wake up thinking I’m OK, and I can make this a great day. But within a few minutes after getting out of bed, the darkness starts to fall again.
I try to do things that make me happy, like having a fun date night with my husband. The activity feels exciting at the time, and I think maybe the darkness is going away. But that good feeling lasts only until the morning. The next day, my brain begins to fog again.
I try to do things that involve me not being on the couch, yet even the simplest task, like moving laundry from the washing machine to the dryer, tires me out, and I have to catch my breath.
The only thing I can really muster myself to do is go to work, and even that is a struggle. But I’ve noticed that some of the time, when I have easy things to do, it distracts me from my own thoughts, and I feel a little bit better for the time being. Yet if it gets too busy or I can’t get the easy things done, the heaviness in my head returns.
I don’t enjoy being like this. I miss the times when I can do laundry without getting tired and when I can go out with my husband and be giddy about it the entire next day. And shockingly, I miss being excited about the busyness at work while not feeling overwhelmed.
I’m trying to not give in to the pressure in my head, but it is a struggle — a struggle I know I can overcome, and I hope to overcome soon.
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I am a wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend and event planner by day and an aspiring blogger by night (if I actually get my butt in gear and start one). After being diagnosed with Bipolar II in 2002, I’ve tried living my life as “normal” as I possibly could by taking my meds and only allowing a few people to know about my diagnosis. I’ve learned how to hide it the best I could and allowed the stigma to take over. Now, at the age of 37, I’m tired of hiding and ready to embrace what is normal for me.
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