It was a bit of a nightmare weekend. We had little R and I made some Herculean efforts to be welcoming and functioning but I really wasn't up for it. By his next visit I should be in a better place as the higher dose of anti Ds kicks in. AJ is at a loss to understand why I should be feeling so negative when we have all we ever wanted. I am just at a loss.
In the past I have found that bouts of depression are great springboards for periods of creativity and happiness. It's a bit like not being able to have Summer without Winter. However, I'd rather not be depressed. I'd rather trundle along without the highs and lows that are so disruptive to ordinary daily living.
It takes a couple of weeks, sometimes longer, for the higher dose of escitalopram to make a noticeable difference. I'm one week in and at the most difficult phase. I've acknowledged I'm depressed which has allowed it to deepen. So I'm feeling some of the more familiar hallmarks of the condition such as duvet diving, over sleeping, over eating and weepiness. I try to ignore the 'voice' in my head which tells me how useless I am, and I try to heed the 'still small voice of calm' which will get me through. Experience tells me that this will bottom out soon and it will start to loosen its grip. That day though, seems a long way off at the moment.