Lightbulb

This post on one of my favorite blogs really kicked me in the pants this morning, and gave me a sort of "aha!" moment about my depression.

I have always beat myself up over staying in my abusive marriage for as long as I did. I knew it was bad, I knew I wanted out of it, but I felt paralyzed. I know that the cycle of abuse is largely to blame for that, but it always felt like something more than that to me. Cosmo's post finally made me open my eyes to realize that my depression played a large role in the cycle of abuse for me. I was severely depressed during the last few years of my marriage. My husband's behavior toward me was incomprehensible for me, and my inability to make it stop was deeply disempowering. I felt completely out of control of my life, and the further into depression I sunk, the less able to deal with life I felt. I buried by head in the sand a lot, because I couldn't deal with what was happening to me. It was all connected - the violence and other problems in my marriage fed my depression, which led me to feeling paralyzed and unable to escape, which allowed for more violence which deepened my depression even further, and made me more unable to act. Looking at it that way, it is surprising to me that I was ever able to end it at all.

I honestly don't know how you could go through violence and other severe relationship issues like I did, and not be depressed. But as I was going through it all, I never saw it. Until very recently, I have never acknowledged my battles with depression, starting from when I was a teenager, as battles with depression. I didn't want to accept that was a problem I had. Sometimes life is hard, and my feelings seemed reasonable to me when that was the case. But the fact that my feelings often went beyond reasonable, or lasted much longer than they should, or kept me from acting when I should have, that was something I was not ready to acknowledge. Even now, it is very hard for me to say.

But if I look at my behavior, my feelings, I know it is true. I obsess, I ruminate, I catastrophise (sp?). I rarely feel at ease, I feel uncomfortable in my own skin, I am self-conscious to the point of ridiculousness. I let my feelings of sadness and fear and hopelessness paralyze me from action. I take care of my family and do all those other things I have to do, but I don't take care of myself like I should. I know I should get up early and go to yoga. I know I should eat well, and get enough sleep. I know I should reach out to friends and family for help, or at least some kind words. But I don't. I don't feel like I can. And I just cross my fingers and hope that this bout with depression will lift of its own will, without any help from me.

My ongoing battles with PTSD do not help matters any, because it is basically a disorder of obsessive thoughts and rumination. Your mind and body cannot let go of the traumatic memories, and the fight-or-flight state caused by the trauma. Even when you do not consciously think about the trauma, it intrudes into your thoughts and behaviors, through dreams or other subconscious means if there is no other way in. I have been out of the abuse for almost 4 years now, and yet I still feel the fear and pain so strongly sometimes. I still think about it and it still affects my life, way more than I like to admit.

Accepting that these things are going on with me, I know that I need help. I cannot do this on my own. I feel very disconnected and lonely lately, alone in the depths of my despair. I am not sure where to reach out, but I can see that I need to, one way or another. For now, this is the best way I have.

In San Diego every spring, we have "May Gray" and "June Gloom". In the mornings, it is overcast, the skies gray and cold. Late in the morning, the sun comes out for awhile, but in the late afternoon, the clouds (and sometimes fog) start creeping back in. That is what life feels like to me. When I am depressed, I know eventually I will feel better, but there is always the awareness that the sadness will come creeping back in eventually. It makes the bad times worse, and the good times hard to enjoy.

I'm feeling better. A little bit better. Still depressed, but not the deep, dark, want to stick my head in the oven kind of depression that I was feeling last week. Still feel low, but I feel more able to handle it. Still not able to focus worth a damn. Still totally unmotivated. I think my unmotivated is different than other people's unmotivated. I don't feel like doing anything, I don't go out of my way to do all the things I normally do, but some stuff still has to get done. So I get up and get dressed and make lunches and breakfasts and find A's lost shoe and fold a load of laundry and feed the animals and track down J's sweatshirt because it is cold and windy and raining, and no you are not going to school without a sweatshirt damnit!, before taking the kids to school at 7am, and then to work. I don't have the option to stay in bed and not function, depression or no depression.

I was planning on going back to school this semester, because it has been far too long since I stopped going, and if I'm ever going to get my degree, I've got to get back on track. But money is tight (books were going to cost about $400 for 2 classes. 2 classes that I've already taken, and was only taking again to brush up) and L is going to school, and basically, I found a bunch of excuses not to go. But I don't really feel bad about it, which is big for me. I beat myself up over not finishing school, being a total failure, all that good stuff, at pretty much every opportunity. I'm really trying hard to be nice to myself these days, because somebody's got to, so it may as well be me. So, while I would like to be in school, I'm not. I'm promising myself I'll work on some online classes I've found, but I accept that I probably won't. Following through is not my strong suit. I've decided that instead of compromising and going for a BA major I can finish quickly (whether its something that interests me or not), I'm going to commit myself for the long haul, and pursue my BS in something I actually want to pursue. What specifically, I don't know. I'm even considering math, because I'm a glutton for punishment like that. (I've actually been working on an algebra refresher course in my free time, just because I enjoy it. Yes, I am sick.)

While none of this directly has to do with DV, it does in a way. My relationship with my ex-husband made me give up on a lot of things. Including believing in myself, and my ability to complete school. I've beat myself up over this for so long. And I accepted for a long time that it just wasn't going to happen, that I wasn't capable, or that my life didn't have room for it. But I'm starting to be more OK with the fact that my dream got derailed for a lot of reasons, including the abuse, and it isn't the end of the world. Just because I had a kid (or 2) and dropped out and wasn't able to follow through, doesn't mean I can't keep working on it and finish. And I don't have to compromise on doing it the way I want to do it.

K, have to end here on a feeling good note, before I ruin it and put myself back in the doldrums (which you know in my head I'm already starting to).

And the Downward Spiral Begins...

I am depressed. I don't know if "depressed" even begins to describe it. I am sitting here at my desk at work, trying not to cry, trying desperately to focus on my work, on anything besides how damn miserable I feel right now. For the record, its not working. I can't focus, I can't get a damn thing done.

Things stink at home right now. They just do. Work's not much better. And I'm stuck in this place of not wanting to talk about it, not wanting to do anything about it. I just want to hide from it all and hope it goes away. And maybe cry a bit while I'm at it. Of course, that's just making things worse. But it's all I've got in me right now. Even if I wanted to talk about it, or had someone to talk about it to (which I don't) - what could I really say?

I am so angry at myself, so disappointed. Again, I know it could be sooo much worse. And I should be thankful for what I have. And that knowledge makes me feel even worse, because I'm not.

Its hard to have any perspective when all around you is darkness. I'm not capable of looking on the bright side right now. And since I am such an overanalyzer, and I catastrophize everything, and ruminate like nobody's business, the world looks really freaking bleak right now, and I don't have much hope that it will get any better, any time soon. Even if I knew what to do to make things better, I wouldn't have the energy or motivation to do it.