Coupla things.One. I'm sitting here crying about something that people are telling about on Oprah. Some bad things that happened to them. I often cry when I hear about other people's pain. I even cry sometimes watching the news, the countries in the middle of wars, the families trying to just get by in that situation. I am so often baffled and sad about the pain in the world. I don't know why it has to be, and I need for there to be a good reason. I don't want to know that it just is and there's no reason. Why? Why do people need to suffer so much? And why is it that I can't relate to others, I have a big, thick wall between me and the rest of the people in the world, yet I can cry so easily over their pain? Two. I'm again deciding to buckle down and stop sleeping in the daytime. At the moment, I still think it's the first, best thing I can do to get myself somehow turned in a positive direction. I'm also going to take one benedryl (25mg) when I go to bed. It helps me sleep and helps me sleep better than I do without it. Two work better, but also cost twice as much. The alarm clock is set and ready to go. Now, I already know that this resolve to get turned in a positive direction will vanish soon. Don't know when exactly. THAT IS THE PROBLEM. That is what depression does. If I felt decent consistently, I would have the power to make changes in my life. I KNOW this because I have done it a lot in the past, and because I try to do it again everytime I feel even a bit better! I am depressed today, but somehow so sick of this going nowhere shit that it's pushing me to try again. Every time I try and fail, it takes even more to convince me to try again. I have a list of doctors to call about an appointment, which I made today, and the current plan is to do that tomorrow. Get an appointment with a new psychiatrist, and I still need an appointment with the medicine clinic people so I can get back with my regular medicine doctor. (Who I see for diabetes, hypertension, etc...)
A Woman Alone
Tuesday, Mar. 30, 2004
4:54 p.m.
I haven't been writing because I don't have anything to say.I hate my life. I hate that I can't do anything about it no matter how hard I try. I hate that I care one day and don't the next. I hate the person that makes me seem to others- totally unreliable. I hate that I know the right meds. could have me feeling well, but I don't have the right meds. I hate that I believe life can be good, that there are unlimited opportunities in the world, but I can't take advantage of them, and usually don't even want to. I hate my own lack of movement towards the positive, that I'm stuck in a whirlpool. I hate that I'm not living at all, just waiting to die.
A Woman Alone
Monday, Mar. 29, 2004
2:26 p.m.
You know, there are a lot of web site, and blog site awards, different competitions to be the most popular, etc... I'm just not a competitive person. Never was. And I find most of the awards are given to just about anyone who applies for them, which has little to do with quality. Now, if someone found my blog or website and thought it was award worthy, and they had some kind of standards, of course I would be quite pleased to receive one. But most of this stuff is nonsense. Each of my websites has a particular goal, a reason for being. This blog is to help people understand what it's like to be depressed and how that can affect a person's life, in every little detail. I'd like more people to see it because I'd like more people who would benefit from it to know it's here. But that's all. If I were to somehow magically become rich from that, well, that would be OK. Wouldn't it be nice not to have to worry about money? Ever? Somehow I don't think that's going to happen. When I first knew I had Depression, of course there is everyone telling me I just need to get out more and other equally ignorant stuff. And the fact that most of the symptoms can be normal, in certain situations. I wondered why I couldn't just get a grip and stop certain behaviors. I really beat myself up, helping those around me who were also beating me up. I think many of us experience something like this. When you meet, read about, come to know others with similar symptoms and feelings and experiences, it helps you realize that you do have a real illness, and it's not a figment of your imagination, and you don't just need to get out more. With this illness, simply realizing that it's an illness is a big deal, and it's an even bigger deal for our friends and family. The more you act like your loved one is just being lazy, whiny, whatever, the more depressed you're making them, and the bigger wall you're putting up between the two of you. What they really need is understanding, and if you can't understand-- ACCEPT. Accept that if they say they can't stop crying, that's the truth. If they say they don't want to go anywhere, that it's hard to talk to anyone, that's the truth! Accept and be concerned and hold them and let them know that you care. And remind them again tomorrow. And try to understand. Really understand. There is really just one person who is my friend, the other friend I sometimes refer to hasn't spoken to me in so long, and doesn't respond to e-mails I send her. So there's just one who still talks to me on the rare occasions I call and writes back when I send e-mail. I imagine she thinks I'm strange, but OK. She knows I'm alone and probably that motivates her to be friendly to me, too. She's a nice lady. She knows I'm depressed, but so do several people, notably my family, and they chose to make more trouble for me rather than being supportive. So that in itself doesn't automatically mean anything. Matter of fact, when strangers hear that, they just think I'm nuts and they should keep their distance. So I've been thinking of this one lady who, even tho we haven't ever been particularly close, remains steadily my friend. I was depressed when she met me, and a stranger in town. So there's no history that would make her feel obligated. Of course, I don't really want anyone close, unless he's a wonderful gentle, understanding, steady, level headed, intelligent, respectable, kind man who loves me greatly.... but that's just a daydream. Have you ever thought about repercussions of being all alone? What if you get a flat tire? Who you going to call? What if you have any other type of problem? I broke my foot a few years ago, thank God my son still lived here, and he was old enough to drive with a permit. And big enough for me to lean on. What if I were injured again? I'm thinking I need to tell this lady how much I appreciate her. That's what I'm thinking. Sorry, people, I don't know what the hell I'm trying to say here. Just talking.
A Woman Alone
Wednesday, Mar. 24, 2004
8:56 p.m.
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