Sunday, May 23, 2010

A bit of a rant

My friend K recently emailed to comment that I hadn't written a blog entry in a while, despite the fact that I have twittered about working on a couple posts. And I'd imagine he's not the only one who's curious about my silence, so I thought I would post a sanitized version of it here, for all to read.

The crushing depression has returned.

I have no energy or motivation to do anything. Half the time, I'm on the edge of tears, for no apparent reason. When at work, I go into this auto-pilot mode, and once I leave, it's all a blur. I have all these things that I want or need to do, but can't summon the energy to do any of them. I have piles of dirty laundry sitting around, and can't be bothered to start up the washing machine. I have piles of mail that I desperately want to GO AWAY, and I can't find a way to start cleaning them up. I didn't even file my taxes this year, because I didn't get all the information I needed, and just can't get the motivation to call the people I need to call to get the appropriate information. That's something that could really cause some serious trouble, and I just can't bring myself to care. My twice-daily massages, I am lucky if I actually complete one over a two-day period. I need to make a whole bunch of phone calls to various people and agencies; some regarding name-changes, some to doctors, and others. One of the big ones is to another endocrinologist, who might be able to help with the depression - if my hormone levels are out of whack, adjusting them could dramatically help. The doctor who is currently "managing" my hormones, isn't doing a thing. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he poo-poos my questions. My therapist keeps challenging me "oh why didn't you blahblah" about it, and I'm sick of going to her office only to be scolded for 45 minutes, and paying for that dubious privilege. I'm strongly considering cancelling the appointment that I have with her on Tuesday because I don't want to go through that yet again.

And on top of all that, I go home to the den of squalor that is my apartment every night (which also causes me plenty of stress, since I just can't get the energy to do anything about it), and sit there BY MYSELF. The only single, non-kids-having friends I have are you and L, and you both might as well live on the opposite end of the planet from me. We can't just visit on a moment's notice. Couple that with the treatment I am receiving at work: nobody talks to me anymore, unless they need something from me. I realize that things have changed, but they have not changed that much. I feel like this pariah or something.

And when I'm home alone, sitting staring at the wall, wishing for this all to go away, I can't even get excited about things that I really do love to do. I bake seldom anymore, and rarely practice my drums, and haven't been on the bike in literally months. I've got two half-done sewing projects sitting out, neither of which I've touched in weeks. I have a project car sitting in my garage that I'm strongly tempted to wheel out into the courtyard and SET ON FIRE, just so it will go away.

I'm just so sick of all this, but I feel like it's impossible to start crawling up out of this morass. At this point, it feels like this parasite that just won't die. I am so close to just giving up, but I can't do that. I didn't give up before, so I can't now.