Stop the world, I wanna get off.
Sometimes, in my deepest and darkest moments, I wonder if depression is truly just a chemical imbalance, or if we as humans or maybe just Americans have made life so ridiculously difficult for ourselves that our brain chemistry cannot keep up and forces us to just stop.
I literally cannot make myself do....anything. The exercise is starting to go, too, which is just unheard of for me. I can't make myself eat. I have work piled up around me for miles. I have a new business I was getting off the ground that was doing really well that I've just....let fall apart. I can't face it. I cannot accurately describe the terror in my chest when I think of all the responsibilities that I face that I cannot make myself tackle. It's too much. Soccer forms and signups and school supplies and emergency paperwork and laundry and dishes and cooking and planning and keeping myself in shape and keeping my kids healthy and is my son depressed, too? and is my marriage starting to suffer? and there is too much crap in my house and so much work to do on my business that pays my bills and so much studying to do on the business I want to transition to so I'm happier and friends who are also suffering who probably need me right now and my ex husband wants to know if I'll start alternating holidays with him which I've NEVER done? and I'm letting my husband down by not getting my work done and making money and putting more pressure on him to pay our bills and this is definitely starting to wear on him too as well as everyone else in my life and there's ANOTHER soccer email coming in saying we need to fill out more forms and I haven't registered my baby for kindergarten yet even though it starts in a few weeks and they all need haircuts and backpacks and clothes....
and all I can do is try. I really, really try. I have every intention, every morning, of getting out of bed and just getting it done but my body seems to weigh a trillion tons right now, and making any contact with any person causes my chest to squeeze. I just want to stop feeling sad and anxious and worthless and I don't want one more person to ask one more thing of me.
I don't understand what has happened to me. I don't recognize myself. I was motivated and driven and happy. I'm just broken now. I'm less than human trying to become human again.
My husband took me to a doctor Monday and I shakily admitted to her that I have every single scary symptom of deep depression. I am a very proud person, and to sit there across from a stranger and my husband and admit that I am no longer in control of myself, and my thoughts, was humbling to say the least.
They started me on new medications which, as you can probably tell by the tone of this writing, are currently making me highly anxious. I hate feeling like a lab rat. I hate taking medication. I hate all of this. I need to accept it, I know.
I've also contacted a psychiatric program recommended by a good friend. I'm trying. I want to ask the world to forgive me but the world won't stop long enough to let me.