Today I was able to see my doctor.
I am very lucky, because I called this morning and got in this afternoon.
I know I’ve been off kilter for quite some time now (months really) and I’ve been at the edge of the rabbit hole for about the same amount of time.
I had been able to keep my head above water with running and meditation.
My depression loves food, and sleep. Lots of food and lots of sleep. It is how it fuels the lie machine.
I’ve been tired, I mean reaaaalllly tired, for a long time. I sleep a full 8-9ish hours every night.
When the alarm clock goes off, I drag myself through molasses to get moving. Usually I can enjoy my bed coffee and then get moving.
Lately it’s been bed coffee and I-want-to-go-back-to-sleep-for-another-eight-hours kind of morning. Every day. Even on the weekend.
There was also my slow disassociation. I would hear myself talking and be like “Who is that talking? It can’t be me because she sounds like she has her shit together.”
Please note: SHE DID NOT HAVE HER SHIT TOGETHER.
This past week I could really notice how I was starting to slowly unravel on the inside. I can’t share it all, because it’s raw right now, and I need to let it be for now.
But I can share that I had a few conversations with my mom on Saturday, and we drove by the doctor’s office so I could see who was in for the weekend clinic (thanks mom, love you!). Unfortunately it wasn’t my doctor, so I decided then that I would call on Wednesday to try and get an appointment.
(I am so very lucky, soooooo lucky to have the family doctor I do. She rocks.)
(Also, to acknowledge my slow brain drain: when I had a conversation with some people at lunch the other day, and then later…when I was on the bus with someone who was sitting RIGHT BESIDE ME during this conversation, I said “remind me to tell you…*insert things from lunch conversation here* that this person already heard because SHE WAS RIGHT BESIDE ME 😬 Ugh, Sorry Robyn! Lol)
So tomorrow, I start using my new (I’ve taken this medication before so it’s like an old new) tool.
Living with a mental illness is not easy.
It’s awful to think that there are people out there who are afraid to ask for help.
I was once afraid to ask for help.
I am not afraid anymore.
Suffering (for me) is not an option.
I am on my way feeling better.
One day at a time.