Taking antidepressants (when they work) is sort of like walking out of a cave. Things become gradually less and less dark until you can see things clearly around you - but if you look back, there is still impenetrable darkness that cannot be understood or lit. You're no longer in it, but it's just as impossible to understand as it was while you were in it.

It's still pretty dim in here, but I'm beginning to see my way around.

What, is there a blog still here?

I found this draft as I posted the last entry... I think it was from about a year ago. The more things change, the more they stay the same...

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It's been a bumpy ride. Being bipolar makes everything 200% more difficult, I think. I read about other supermoms who make their kids decorative bento lunches every day, and keep the house clean & the laundry done, and work, and have hobbies, and do it all while suffering from IBS or Crohn's disease or something, and think "why the hell can't I do that?" I don't know if it's because I'm undisciplined, or lazy, or because so much of the time I'm just barely holding myself together with baling wire and string that I'm doing good to keep kids alive and fed and not lose my job...

I can't even type this without falling apart. Doesn't help that I'm somewhat hormonal; this week frequently sucks. It should be interesting when I go to see the psychiatrist... I doubt I'm going to be able to be coherent, which is going to suck, because sometimes I get the feeling he's reading me wrong. Yeah, I'm bipolar - but in the last several years, trust me, depression has had the upper hand. The few manic spikes I've had haven't even lasted a full day (which sucks; I feel like I can actually get things DONE then).

The interesting thing is that there are these times (I used to call them the plateau moments) where it seems I can see clearly all around me, and I'm confident (not overly so) and functional... it feels like a long time since I've had one of those.

My life is a lot less insane than it used to be - but I seem to be managing it less well. My list of things I'm doing at the same time is down to two: working, and being mom-shuttle. I'm not taking care of dad or my aunt any more... I'm not currently taking classes... I'm not singing in the chorus... so why do I feel like my life is so incredibly out of control and unmanageable? It might be that because I'm not stretched anywhere near as thin as I used to be, I'm thinking about all the stuff I SHOULD be doing, that I'm not.

I'm not singing, or learning another language, or bringing up my children to be fluent in multiple languages, or feeding my children organic, no artificial color or flavor foods, or doing any sort of hobby (pottery, jewelry making, quilts, scrapbooking, knitting, crocheting, cross-stitching, drawing, sculpture...) or making my house the spotless relaxing place I want it to be

Of course, I could get off my ass and stop whining online and go work.

So, was reading a post by a fellow depression-sufferer.  One sentence in particular caught my attention: "Most people have no idea what it's like to actually resent being alive, and it's such a foreign idea to them that if you introduce it in conversation they often become defensive." I've never heard it put quite like that, but it's perfect - when you're really depressed, you RESENT being alive. You resent everything you have to do, whether for yourself or other people. You resent having to go through the motions of life, because what the hell's the point anyway, it all sucks? It sucks, you suck - everything sucks.

He also pointed out (quite correctly) that depression doesn't care what's going on in the rest of your life; things could be going perfectly - but if it's raining, it's raining. And I don't have wipers. For example, this weekend I was out of town with my babu, sans kids, eating something lovely for breakfast in a really nifty shop in Durham, NC. They had all kinds of stuff in there; the display behind us had toys & bibs etc. Looked at the toys and out of nowhere, I started to tear up, because the depression voice inside my head was suddenly yelling about what a crappy mom I was; how I didn't spend enough time with my children when they were babies doing things that would help their brain development, etc. etc. I couldn't even tell J what was bothering me, because I would have lost it completely right there in the restaurant. (As it was, several hours later in the car when I _did_ tell him, I started to cry all over again.) There is nothing rational about this. When I'm chemically depressed, that horrible self-critical voice in my head takes off like it's on meth. At least at this point in my life I recognize it for what it is - when I was younger, I believed everything it said. Nowadays, I usually only believe part of it. (It honestly depends on how badly I'm doing.)

Probably one of the hardest things about being depressed (other than being depressed, which sucks) is watching what it does to your family. I think honestly, that's where a lot of suicides come from - if you truly care about these people you're with; your partner and children - and you see what your illness does to them - how can you not want to spare them that? It's hard for a depressed person to see how your absence could be worse - let alone how much worse your method of removing yourself from their lives could make things for everybody, forever. There have been many times in the last several years that I've thought longingly of getting flattened by a truck - but I know I can't do that to my husband and children.

There's that (to me, really fucking annoying) response people have to suicide: "a permanent solution to a temporary problem." I'm 36 years old, and I've been suffering from depression since I was a teenager. How fucking temporary is that? I'm about to start over, trying a new medication - as the last one made things worse, and might have done some physical damage to my body to boot. There is nothing temporary about my condition. There is no cure, there is no silver bullet that fixes things. It's physically and emotionally exhausting, trying to find a way to stay out of the black hole.  And trying to do it while seeming okay on the outside, in a futile attempt to not make the people around you miserable... *sigh*

It helps when people post about depression, I think. As well meaning as my mother is, when she says things like "it's probably better not to mention depression at your office; be careful what words you use" I feel like even more of a leper. I think if more people understood that it's not just that I need to "start thinking positive thoughts" and that it's not a character flaw that sometimes the thought of all the people starving in the world starts me on a crying jag... maybe it wouldn't be so unbearable. I'm lucky that it's not as bad as it was 20, 30 years ago - but there should still be more understanding and acceptance of mental illness in today's world. Then again, there should be less people starving and killing each other too, and look how well THAT'S going.

I've been in pretty bad shape lately. I'm better now than I was earlier when I started this post (I took a break and took a shower - for some reason, running water seems to help me feel better most of the time) but I still think going to sleep for a little while is the safest thing. Sometimes, that's all it seems you can do - sleep and hope you'll be a little less depressed when you wake up. Fortunately, I have a very patient and loving partner who not only tells me I need to just take a nap, but can manage the kids while I do so.