Hard today

It's a holiday and I'm at loose ends. I can do anything I want to do -- I've given myself permission to do what I want. But I don't want to do anything. I want to go to bed, but can't do that all day. Don't seem to have the patience to read or watch TV, can't muster the energy to go to the movies.

It's a luxury I don't always have -- time to do what I want to do and the means to do it. I wish I could appreciate it more.

What are you doing?

Are you depressed, too? Suffer from borderline personality disorder?

How are you working to make yourself feel better?

What kinds of strategies work? What doesn't work?

I need all the help I can get!

Somehow they know

We were at the elementary school, an open house night where parents were invited to come to the classrooms. My kids were so excited to show me their desks and art work and teachers. Their dad showed up, too, and I was so torn between wanting to be joyful to see him and being heartbroken that he was there.

I opted for somewhere in the middle, a little neutrality, though inside my heart was churning and my head was spinning and I was so sad.

As it was time to go, he hugged the kids -- and I could have had a hug too if I'd asked but I didn't want to ask though god knows I wanted a hug, oh how I wanted a hug. He told them he'd see them soon and didn't say anything to me and my eyes betrayed me and started watering. I turned and started walking away and then my daughter came around me and peered right in my eyes. Seconds later, my son did the same thing. By then I had squeezed the tears from my eyes and turned to them smiling.

But they knew -- they always know -- that my heart is still broken.

Getting moving

I'm still concentrating on simply moving forward in the world. No, not moving forward, simply moving. Not standing still. Not vegetating.

I am loathe to admit it but it seems to be true: If I will simply do something, I feel better. I should be happy to admit it, happy to know it. But the truth is that depression is insidious in that way. It sucks the desire out of me, it sucks the marrow out of life. It leaves me an empty shell that doesn't want to do anything but sit and stare.

There is something in me that makes this impossible. If I simply sit and stare, I gradually grow more and more anxious, like I should be doing something, anything. So I run through the list of things I could be doing, ticking each off like beads on a rosary. But nothing seems to spark me, nothing sounds fabulous, nothing sounds the least bit fun.

So in the past few days, I have forced myself to do something anyway. Something. Go to the coffee shop. Walk the dog. Read my email. Write a post in this blog. It doesn't matter that it's a small accomplishment, having a shower every day is at least better than not having one. Putting my contact lenses in is a sign I want to be alive instead of in the hazy, fuzzy world of myopia. Buying a book and reading a few pages every hour or so is better than not reading it.

So I will keep moving. Forward, laterally, zig zag. Just keep moving.

Slogging along

The theory here is that by doing something -- again, anything -- I can make myself feel better. The chemical explanation is that when I do something and am successful at it (even getting up and showered and dressed), my brain rewards me with a wash of dopamine. Dopamine is the natural "feel good" chemical that our brains long for.

By hanging out in bed, by being afraid and nervous and edgy, I am denying myself the natural good feelings from dopamine. By going for a walk or reading the newspaper (or posting in my blog), my body should recognize that I've accomplished something and be happy about that.

The hard part is that the microscopic bits of dopamine generated by each individual act aren't enough themselves to get me past whatever this is that has me frozen in time. I am anxious and have a sick feeling that I'm failing at something, even when I'm not. I'm trying to ignore it and slog past. I went out yesterday evening and did manage to stay "in the world" for five or six hours without melting down or giving in to the overwhelming feeling that I needed to go home, I needed to go to bed.

It was late when I got home, and my dog was happy to see me. She was also antsy and had been cooped up most of the day so I did something highly unusual and went for a walk with her. Not a long walk -- I couldn't force myself into that -- but for 10 to 15 minutes. She was so delighted her tail wagged right up to her head. I was happy to make her happy.

I hope my brain earned a little dopamine for that.

Just do it

Just do it. That's the solution my therapist has come up with for me. Continue with life, act as if it is OK, and hopefully it will be.

Don't stay in bed. Do something. Do anything.

Tonight I'm going to go out and work on a hobby I like. I am not supposed to leave for over an hour and I've been dreading it -- seriously dreading it -- all day. I don't know how I'll get through an evening of "fun" without being exhausted. I feel like I could go to bed now -- before 5 p.m. -- and sleep through until morning. In fact, I know I could. But instead I'll be out in the world. Sweating every second of it, but being there.

Wish me luck.

No help, no hope?

I can't seem to get out of this feeling that I'm slogging through life. I can't force myself to do anything, even things I theoretically love to do. It feels like I'm underwater most of the time and I don't know what to do.

I don't know where to turn for help -- I'm seeing a psychiatrist about medication, but it seems this is a long, slow process that doesn't have any real relief. I'm struggling most with the depression, not borderline personality disorder, but the anxiety overlay of all of this makes it really hard on a day to day basis. I'm on disability leave from work but don't think I have the wherewithal to go back, to do a good job, to even want to work at all. I have to work, of course, and am suffering financially from being off. I just don't know how to be better. I desperately want to feel better, but every single thing I do is a struggle -- every task is like a mountain I need to climb and the thought of it is just exhausting. Even the thought of getting through a day.