The dirty secret no one talks about...mental illness

Now, I know those of you that are reading that title and know me are saying "dirty secret, eh?" this bitch is batshit crazy. And I am OK with that, my therapist, probably not so much. This is some thoughts I wrote approximately 2 years ago when I in earnest started therapy; Depression. Major depressive disorder. PTSD. Delayed grieving. Anxiety. All fun labels. Add on morbid obesity and you have me in a nutshell. I am trying to look my depression in the face, deal with the pain and get the fuck over it. I am so tired of being sad that my sad is tired of being sad. That, my friends, is a mouthful. I want to give a million excuses why I am depressed but in all honesty, believe it or not, it is an illness. It has it's causes and it's treatment. Currently, I am in treatment. I hate admitting it but I have been so sad for so damn long that it was time. So, I have been seeing a counselor. I am still unsure what I think about the whole thing. She is nice enough and seems intelligent. My first two attempts at counseling were less than successful. One was crazier than I  and the other wasn't the brightest light bulb in the box and well, how can you help me, if I am smarter than you. Well, with the counselor I am seeing a psychiatrist so I can be medicated for your safety. I do horribly with any kind of medications. I don't like the side effects when the dose is changed I get all weird for a few weeks. It is has been a trial. I mentioned the the Dr. that I didn't feel worse but not better by any means and I wanted to know what a realistic expectation would be. Am I going to feel better or be happy because in my mind happy is the goal. Seems legit to me. I am taking meds, seeing the counselor and I have prayed for happiness all of my life. The response the Dr. gives me. Well, it was less than encouraging. His response "Baseline, expect to be baseline". I don't remember ever feeling good and you are telling me I'll never feel good? That I can just expect to be Meh, for the rest of my life. Umm, thanks. Now, I wrote a few more less than stellar thoughts after this garbage but it really didn't make sense nor do I want to revisit that trash.

Where do I stand now? Well, I am currently on my 400,000 medication trial and have yet found something that works for me. Without the medication the suicidal ideation returns and I am real ready to leave this world yet. I still have all kinds of shit to fuck up still. I mean life isn't done being amused with me. And I need more tattoos before I kick the bucket. Plus, I booked a fucking cruise to Alaska. Let that shit sink in. This chick, who hates leaving the house is going on a bucket list, OMG, I am going to Alaska cruise. I am so excited this will be the best trip ever. Now, am I fixed? No, but am I working on things. Also, no. I kid. While I think I am not working hard enough because I still refuse to change my diet and exercise, I am working on healthy boundaries and only surrounding myself with those that bring me happiness. It is hard. Being happy and healthy isn't easy. The "stinking thinking" as Deb (therapist) calls it sneaks back in often. Deb is my fourth therapist. She is a grief specialist and she is brilliant. I would love to be like Deb one of these days. She has helped me more than everyone else combined. Now in the medication world, I am not doing well. I am on another trial of medications and not doing well with them. I was manic (read happy) and wanted to do ALL THE THINGS. After a person has been sad for a very long time and not wanting to do anything, this is actually a miserable feeling.

Let me explain. I have sadness, I get it. We love each other. He wraps his strong arms around me and pulls me into bed with him and we snuggle. He understands me and I understand him. Hate, loathing, disgust, and sadness, oh they are my friends. Now this bitch happiness comes along and I am all freaking confused. What the hell do I do with all this energy and happy feelings? How do I deal with wanting to be social, friendly, and wanting to leave the house and have people come to the house!!!!  So, I promptly called the psychiatrist and was like, OH HELL NO. I can't have these feelings. So, I have temporarily stopped one new medication. The one that probably is working. Being crazy is fun, I joke a lot, but it isn't. This is miserable and embarrassing.

For example my poor extra mother Kimmy, who is the best person ever, wants to come to the house and fix up my kitchen. My depression and anxiety is a hard stop on that. Now, she could come over and I would feed her and play games but fix my kitchen? Even though I want it to be pretty the thought of her coming over and changing my kitchen makes me physically ill. It makes the cycle of self-loathing, hate, sadness, anxiety, and feeling of failure overwhelm me. I know I have hurt her feelings and for that I am sad but I literally can not deal with the thought of that big of change happening right now. It terrifies me. And how do you explain to someone that you can't. Just can't. No real reason just can't?

But on the upside of all this mess, I have made a good boundry for me with a family member that needed to go. It feels bad to an extent but it needed to happen for my sanity and health.

What I will say about all this rambling? I can't help that I am chemically imbalanced. I don't like it. I don't like feeling this way and being who I am. But I am me.