The Ups and Downs of Life

Note to self: Be more consistent with posting.

Things have been a little crazy since my last post in April. When we submitted our paperwork to the county Mom lost her insurance because she had worked too much. Fortunately, we were able to straighten that out because the hours she worked were unusual due to being understaffed. She got her insurance back and they are being much more careful about her scheduling now. I am still working as a Freelance Transcriptionist online and getting more skilled at it every day. The county hasn't said anything about me having to try and get a more traditional job so I'm thankful for that.

The biggest thing that happened though was that I entered a short story contest at Cupboard Maker Books and was selected to be published in their new book The Very Very Bad Misadventures of Annika the Reluctant Bookstore Cat! We had a book signing for it this past Sunday along with a birthday party for Annika herself.

I've been working hard at improving my mental health and have made some big improvements. Mom and I spent the weekend at the Laurel Highlands Bluegrass Festival and we were worried going into it that I wouldn't be able to deal with the crowds. I did so much better than expected and we had a wonderful time! It was a little sad camping without Sage for the first time but I only broke down once.

I'm starting to dive into my massive TBR pile so I'll be doing some book reviews here soon. I just picked up The Eyes of Tamburah by Maria V. Snyder on Sunday during the book signing and I'll be attending the Exclusive US Release party for it next weekend. For some reason, Maria's publisher in the US didn't pick up this book so she had to make special arrangements with her Australian publisher to allow a store here in the States to sell copies. I was fortunate enough to get one of the limited number available and am really looking forward to the party.

So Deep In The Hole I Can't See The Stars

I used to be so outgoing. I would go for walks after dark, talk to people in supermarkets, spontaneously go to the store by myself, and just generally live and interact with the world.

I'm not that person anymore. I don't know if I can ever be that person again.

I'm aware that those statements sound over the top and edgy, but they're the truth.

A little over a year ago I stepped out of my comfort zone and tried to do something to help other people and make my life and my mom's better. I had a promising future. I was recognized for my skills during my first six months at work. Leaders within the office were encouraging me to aim for a leadership position myself. Things were looking good until a few months in when someone set off a chain of events that led to my life being threatened by several people online, and me being investigated by the State Police (and cleared with no charges).

My mental health took a tremendous downturn. I was scared to be in public, I couldn't effectively communicate with potential clients, had to change the area that I was working in because I was worried about my safety in the area that I had been working (and where I also live). I had to resign my position. So much hard work down the drain and basically nothing to show for it.

I am embarrassed by how weak I feel now. I can't go to the store by myself anymore. There are very few people I can go out with and not have to constantly worry that I'm going to have an anxiety attack. I tried for months to get a new job, working in an office away from the public where I could just put my head down and work, and failed. So many applications with no response, and interviews that went nowhere.  I spent more time than I care to admit laying in bed hoping that the next time I woke up the past months would turn out to be a nightmare that never happened. Every day I woke and the previous months had been a nightmare, just not the kind you could wake up from.

My mom wound up getting a job after having been retired for two years because I hadn't been able to and there was no money coming in to pay the bills. I still take this as a failure because I feel like I'm supposed to take care of her. She had retired because of her health. She swallowed her pride and applied for county assistance and I tearfully filled out my part of the application.

With every day that passed after my resignation, I fell deeper and deeper into my depression. I couldn't muster enough energy to get out of bed some days. Others I would get up and spend the day hunting for jobs and staring into the middle distance. I would eat if reminded to.  Then, my cat died. Like something out of a sad movie, she had an underlying health issue that she couldn't recover from and I couldn't save her. She had been basically the only thing that could make me smile or feel better at all, and she was gone.

My depression got worse. Part of me just wanted to not wake up anymore. I stopped looking for a job. I just let the world keep rolling on by me and didn't even try to interact with it.

I've always sat on the edge of the darkness, that pit of emptiness that lies at the heart of depression. I had build fences and walls and warning signs around it to keep me from getting too close. All of that was gone and I was standing up to my waist in that nothingness. And I didn't care. Every thought seemed drawn to the center of that black hole with no hope of escape. Any path I could find would make it's way back into that darkness.

I don't know how, but I found a thread of light to hold onto and pull myself up a little bit. I found a job doing Freelance Transcribing online, where I didn't have to go out in public or talk to other people. Slowly I started to level out. I went out with friends a couple times. Picked up hobbies I'd abandoned.  Started to live a little bit.

But still that darkness surrounds me and it scares me. The way it makes me flinch away from the thought of going outside. The blankness that suddenly comes over me, or worse, the feeling of needing to explode. Just when I think I've gotten the hang of my life again the smallest thing will push me backward. Sometimes I feel like I'm doing a balancing act on the razor's edge, every move I make wounds me a little more, but so does standing still.

I started this post because it's time for us to reapply for county assistance and they're going to make me go through a job placement program. They're going to make me go out there and I'm terrified. I have to drop the paperwork off tomorrow. If I refuse to participate in the program, we'll lose our benefits. I don't know how I'm going to do this.

What Depression Looks Like

This is me on the day of my 15-year class reunion. I didn't know it at the time but I was less than a month away from having to give up a promising career. I was putting on a good face for my old classmates and talking about how good things were, but if I was fooling anyone it was most likely just myself. I sat there and talked with classmates who have gone on to have their own families and businesses. People who have moved on from who and what they were back when we were in school. Outwardly I'm a very different person than I was when I was in school, but internally I'm still the hot mess I was then.

I've been trying to deal with Clinical Depression since I was in 4th grade, that's 25 years or a little less than 75% of my life. At the beginning of 2018, I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder in addition to the Clinical Depression, but I've most likely been dealing with it for the same length of time. I don't talk about these things because there is so much stigma surrounding mental health issues. Anyone who deals with mental health issues can understand the fear that accompanies being open about what you are going through. The fear that your neighbors or coworkers or even potential employers may find out "your secret" and use it against you. The even bigger fear that some well-meaning person who finds out will just tell you "it's all in your head" and that you should just "relax" or "smile, it'll make you feel better". They mean well, but it's not as helpful as they think. I'm well aware "it's all in my head" but that doesn't make it any less real. Telling us to "relax" or "smile" is like telling us that we're choosing to be the way we are. You wouldn't go up to someone in a wheelchair and tell them to just "walk", would you?

 

I'm actually amazed that I'm writing this. I just don't talk about my mental health. I'll talk to everyone and their cousin about my lung disease, hell it's basically my conversational ice-breaker these days. But depression or anxiety? Nope, that's not something I talk about. I let it fester in the back of my mind until it affects me physically. I withdraw from the world. I stop doing things I love to do. I don't even take care of myself the way I should. 

A good example recently; I have to fill out paperwork every year in order to get the medication for my lung disease directly from the manufacturer because of how expensive it is. Without this medication the lung disease will progress unchecked, destroying my lungs and eventually (sooner rather than later) killing me. This is quite literally a life or death aspect of my reality. It's February right now and I haven't filled out that paperwork. I'm a month and a half into the new year and I haven't done this one simple thing, all because I've let my depression take the wheel and I don't feel like I deserve to take care of myself. To make myself eat, I have to make a meal for more than just myself. If my brain thinks I'm just making food for me, I can't do it. I feel like I don't deserve to eat because I'm not contributing anything to the household.

I'm not contributing anything because I haven't worked since I had to walk away from what was shaping up to be a promising career as an insurance agent because my anxiety levels went through the roof after I received actual death threats from people who've never met me all because some woman decided she was going to use me as her ticket to her 5 minutes of fame. I was actually investigated by the State Police, and found completely innocent of any wrongdoing, with my information circulated online and via the news as a result of her actions. That happened in May or June of 2018 and to this day I'm scared of being in public. I couldn't go to appointments or speak to people and so I had to resign from my job as an insurance agent. That was at the beginning of November and I still haven't been able to find a new job. So I've been sitting at home, being a drain on resources and falling deeper and deeper into depression.

Then my Sage Kitty got sick. One of the few things in my life that consistently brought me joy, no matter how depressed I got, was my Sage Kitty. I would get into a funk and she would climb on my chest and purr her little heart out and headbutt me in the face until I would either break down in tears while hugging her or would start smiling. Either one would make me feel better and help me move forward and pull myself out of the darkness. She got sick and there wasn't anything I could do to save her, so she died. I depended so much on her for help and now she's gone and so is that last little furry barrier in my mind from the worst of my own thoughts. Not until she died did I ever think of ways to die. For the first time in my life that darkness has been unleashed on my mind.

I have to trick myself to eat, or get dressed, or even just brush my hair some days. I'm a mess and I can't even convince myself that I can get better. I stay in bed and sleep because then I'm not a further burden on resources that are already stretched thin. I failed to take care of my Mom like I promised myself I would after Dad died. When she stopped working at Walmart, which was killing her according to her Doctor, I was supposed to be the one working and providing for us. Now I'm just a burden.

What depression looks like is me.