Yet another

It has become a great morning for thinking, and coming to terms. I'm gonna use this as a journal for a bit, kind of keeping track of my progress, in some ways. I've been through a lot in the last year, and I think I've handled everything that's come my way reasonably well.

I'm realizing that I'm sort of drowning in it, though. Every time I think I have the strength to break the surface, I'm pulled back down again. I've just booked an appointment with the doc for next Thursday. I'm going to go back onto a very mild anti-depressant. I don't need a lot, but I need something, 'cos using my own strength is getting me nowhere.

And I feel like a loser writing this, but I feel like if I don't make a record that says I'm doing this, that I'll find a reason to let my pride fuck with me and cancel the appointment. After all, there's a stigma that we're wimps if we need an anti-depressant to cope. (shrug) And I hate that the stigma exists, because it prevented me from dealing with depression for years.

It's not that I'm being kept down or whatever from it, it's these strange little phobias and anxieties that come with it that are so crippling. I hate leaving the house these days. I have, for about the last six weeks. Leaving for work in the mornings is killing me. I never leave before 10. It's 10:10, and I've not even showered. This is typical of my depression -- I just isolate myself from people. And I shouldn't.

But getting to the point of admitting you need something for help means two things: One, it means you're beginning to improve because you at least now care enough to look into ways to improve, so the apathy is beginning to erode. Two, it means you've accepted that you are, to an extent, powerless over this beast, so by doing that, it means you're sort of regaining some power, too. (It's like swimming in a river and realizing it's stronger than you are -- if you use the current to power you, you'll travel better, right?)

So, I'm finally accepting I've been depressed. I've sort of known this for a long time, but when it's not a debilitating depression, we don't take it as seriously. Oh, I'm just a little blue. That's all. But, no, just because we're still able to function and such doesn't mean it's not compromising our lives. I'm tired of the compromising, so, the fight begins.

I've been to this point once before, the swallow-my-pride and ask-for-help thing has been the hardest lesson I've ever learned, but man did it help. I should have stayed on the pills longer before, 'cos life was still hard. This time, I think it WILL be a short visit to pharmacopia, because I know how much I've changed. I'm definitely proud of what I've been through and all, but I know that if things went south a month from now, I'm just not sure I'd have the strength to fight again. I need to be aware that I'm at a fragile breaking point right now, and I'm just shoring up defenses.

Anyhow. This is the record. I will be seeing the doc Thurs, the 27th. Ironically a year to the day that my life began changing pretty drastically. Interesting. Good for me. Another milestone to hopefully be proud of.