It’s been awhile since I’ve had a depressive episode (since I was diagnosed with manic depressive illness, I’ve experienced numerous manic episodes, as well as mixed episodes, but straight depressive episodes only occur a few times each year)- so when it started, I was not prepared for the darkness. Over the weekend I slept for more than 30 hours. I had absolutely no energy or motivation to function. It was fucking horrible. My mind was overcome by a sense of dread and the darkness consumed my thoughts, my feelings and my emotions.
Memories that I had worked hard to suppress started coming back.
The problem was that for the last two years I refused to see a therapist. I was convinced that my past therapists had taken advantage of me, by misdiagnosing me and destroying my confidence. So instead of working on my problems, I tried to hide them, forcing them deeper into my mind. That is why smoked so much weed and consumed a huge amount of pain killers- I was running away from my past, because it scared the living shit out of me.
Between the depression and the return of my memories, I was an absolute mess this weekend. Unfortunately, at this time I can’t write about these memories because it hurts too much to think about them. The depression weakened my mental state causing me to relive all of my failings, my loneliness and my sadness over and over and over again, until I could no longer stand it. I don’t know how I made it through this weekend, but I’m happy I did (one thing that did help pull me out the darkness, was that my parents took me out to dinner on Sunday)…
Yesterday, the depression broke and I was finally able to get my mind under control. However, I’m really frustrated because I thought I had finally gotten my medications right. But I guess nothing is ever perfect, especially when dealing with manic-depression. I should be happy that I have made a lot of progress the last few months, but like I pointed out in one of my previous posts, I am not used to stability or sobriety (side note: this was a very frustrating post for me to write. I have spent almost three hours writing it. I have deleted and restarted this post numerous times and I am still not comfortable with it. But I want to post this, because it is starting point for a possible series of posts on the problem with suppressing memories and self-medication).
I want to end this post on positive note. I have finally found a therapist I am comfortable with. I am seeing him again this Thursday and I can’t wait to start working on my problems, especially my low self-esteem. As I noted above, I haven’t seen a therapist in almost two years because of my paranoia, so this is a great indication that I am slowly embracing my stability and progress.
I hope you are doing well,
Dave.
It’s been awhile since I’ve had a depressive episode (since I was diagnosed with manic depressive illness, I’ve experienced numerous manic episodes, as well as mixed episodes, but straight depressive episodes only occur a few times each year)- so when it started, I was not prepared for the darkness. Over the weekend I slept for more than 30 hours. I had absolutely no energy or motivation to function. It was fucking horrible. My mind was overcome by a sense of dread and the darkness consumed my thoughts, my feelings and my emotions.
Memories that I had worked hard to suppress started coming back.
The problem was that for the last two years I refused to see a therapist. I was convinced that my past therapists had taken advantage of me, by misdiagnosing me and destroying my confidence. So instead of working on my problems, I tried to hide them, forcing them deeper into my mind. That is why smoked so much weed and consumed a huge amount of pain killers- I was running away from my past, because it scared the living shit out of me.
Between the depression and the return of my memories, I was an absolute mess this weekend. Unfortunately, at this time I can’t write about these memories because it hurts too much to think about them. The depression weakened my mental state causing me to relive all of my failings, my loneliness and my sadness over and over and over again, until I could no longer stand it. I don’t know how I made it through this weekend, but I’m happy I did (one thing that did help pull me out the darkness, was that my parents took me out to dinner on Sunday)…
Yesterday, the depression broke and I was finally able to get my mind under control. However, I’m really frustrated because I thought I had finally gotten my medications right. But I guess nothing is ever perfect, especially when dealing with manic-depression. I should be happy that I have made a lot of progress the last few months, but like I pointed out in one of my previous posts, I am not used to stability or sobriety (side note: this was a very frustrating post for me to write. I have spent almost three hours writing it. I have deleted and restarted this post numerous times and I am still not comfortable with it. But I want to post this, because it is starting point for a possible series of posts on the problem with suppressing memories and self-medication).
I want to end this post on positive note. I have finally found a therapist I am comfortable with. I am seeing him again this Thursday and I can’t wait to start working on my problems, especially my low self-esteem. As I noted above, I haven’t seen a therapist in almost two years because of my paranoia, so this is a great indication that I am slowly embracing my stability and progress.
I hope you are doing well,
Dave.