I woke up this morning with a realisation.
I think it was my broken bed that did it.
It broke last night and I spent the night rolling into the middle.
I am Depressed
I have Depression.
I've been denying it for a long time.
Just carrying on as best as I can,
but when I was lying there this morning, uncomfortably hunched above broken slats. Surrounded by a messy bedroom and piles of washing and not really thinking anything.
That's when the realisation hit me.
I hate my life.
I hate the house, I hate this stupid bed. I don't want to get up but I don't want to stay here.
For months I have been struggling.
I've been making silly financial decisions, well just wasting money really.
I've not been keeping up with things in the house.
I've had trouble falling asleep and then waking through the night before finally getting up ridiculously early.
I've found it difficult to hold conversations.
I've not been spending time with people I love.
I am isolated and depressed.
Because I care for someone else it almost feels overindulgent and a bit pointless to say
'yes, I am depressed.'
Because there is no one else to do what I do. I am fairly alone on this.
I don't have the option to hand the person I care for a sick note.
'The doc says I need two weeks off, so ill see you in a fortnight'
That's not going to happen.
I went to see my doctor back in March. I am already taking Fluoxetine at 40mg and have been since my parents died in 2010. I told her I was struggling to cope. She offered me to sit on the 10-month waiting list for talking therapies.
I said no. I said surely things will be better for me in 10 months time!
She said I couldn't increase my medication because 60mg of fluoxetine is only for people with eating disorders.
I could change my meds she said. I cant go through a meds change whilst my daughter is so poorly I told her.
She made me an appointment for a months time to see how I am,
but then the receptionist phoned me 2 weeks later and cancelled it as my doc wasn't available on that day.
She offered me another for six weeks later which I declined, mostly because I was annoyed. Then my doctor retired. I got a letter in the post.
So now I'm doctor-less and depressed.
I went to see my new doctor about my sore thumb, i didn't mention my low mood and basic desire to curl up in a ball and tell the world I'm not playing anymore because I don't like him.
I found him rude and dismissive. so I guess I'm
So what am I going to do with this realisation?
Nothing, most probably.
When I have felt like this before i normally just keep plodding and I manage.
I don't really feel I have any other option then to plod on.
Maybe I'll tell someone that yes- I am depressed.
Maybe that will help.