I woke up from another dream at around 7am today, a Wednesday, but it was a fresh awake wake-up. The first I’ve had since my medication screw up almost 3 weeks ago. I stood up, and didn’t lay back down again. I sat at the computer and started my morning work routine right away. Had some fresh cold water from the fridge, took my pill and logged into Facebook with a refreshed morning feel I usually reserve for Mondays.
It was a new day.
For the past few weeks, I’ve woken up very groggy and tired and even broken my own rule about going back to sleep for another hours or so. I usually start official work time around 9am so a 7am wake time allowed me to get in a second sleep that never really works out. Still, these days I have been sleepy. Many days, like yesterday, in fact, I slept more hours than a cat.
To be truthful, I lay in bed in that state of almost sleep. A restful awake state where I can dream more interactively but I don’t actually fall asleep. This means I feel rested but still tired. I hate that mode. I don’t accomplish anything.
This has been the case for weeks. I’m on the new medication, and although it is technically considered the same, it is a generic version of my drug by a different manufacturer and it’s obvious whatever filler ingredients are used to create the time-lapse effect of my “extended release” medication, it is vastly different. Combine this with the reset effect of my prime depression medication, which I was out of for 4 days… it’s not been good.
I’ve been sad. I don’t like that mood. A general sadness that leads to thoughts about why I’m bothering with this whole life thing anyway. I don’t like those thoughts. The joy of my happiness is still fresh in my memory. The thoughts of productivity and praise are ones I remember from only last month. A near perfect life I was only starting to get restless about.
Start again.
I’ve been having bad dreams. I don’t usually refer to my dreams as nightmares in the sense others might. They’re just my version, which hit on n the highlights of my frustration and letting people down. I always have a cell phone that is either old or not working. I lose people. I can’t do math. I fail. These are my bad dreams. I’ve been having them each night since I lapsed on my Paxil. They also return after each wake-up all night so they seem to be 8 hour dreams.
When I’m awake, all I want to do is sleep. I can’t focus on work. I fall behind. I let people down. My waking life mirrors my dreams.
It cycles because unhappiness makes me unhappy.
I have been hoping it was still just medication, and I remember the Paxil takes 5 weeks to kick in and change my overall mood to one of optomisim and cheerful thoughts rather than failures. 5 weeks seems forever when you have people waiting. Clients and friends I’ve set up in a good mood and let down in a bad mood.
It’s been hard. I don’t have many people I can share this with because talking about depression to others can cause a stigma. Since one of my main therapy goals is to care-less about how people think about me, it’s extra hard. I do care. I know how I feel when others talk about their depression and mental health in public.
I did post a little bit because I needed to explain why I was spontaneously less active and productive than the previous week, but then I did my usual thing and lied. I say yes to everything and then fail to deliver.
The cycle gets me deeper into trouble and deeper into depression.
Today was different. My dream had the usual bad things. An extra weird cell phone unlike anything Id; ever seen before and fail after fail, this time combined with the fear of being a victim. People were robbing me, and taking things. I was sick in a strange way that was new to me – not my usual weird sick dream motifs.
I just said; fuck it. I’m going home to bed, and I abandoned it all. Gareth and Peter had walked out of frame and I had no idea where they were. I knew my cell phone did;t have their numbers. I decided to just go home.
I began to walk. The weather was good for it.
I didn’t fly, but I did have the amazing jumping capability that has always been more fun than flying anyway. I was jumping over other walkers, and fences to shortcut my way home, which this time was somewhere behind Main street in my home town of Georgetown. The distance was realistically doable.
As I walked and jumped, I worried less about how my two abandoned friends would react. They wouldn’t be mad. They’d be confused but not worried. Eventually, after they returned from swimming, they’d understand.
A soundtrack emerged in my head and I was singing it loudly as I bounced home.
I woke up still singing the catchy lyric, once apparently invented just for this dream.
It was a good morning.
I’ve spent the last hour online. {Part work, part browse.
Now it’s still only 8:30 and I can feel the tired mood of anti-focus and depression is arguing for a place. My meds are not quite strong enough to hold it back.
I’ll see how the rest of the day goes. I’ll do my best to stay productive but even if I fail, I know I am close.
Good times will return in time.
Maybe one more day.. maybe one more weekend.
I didn’t know how good I had it till I lost it. I guess I need that every once in a while. I was starting to take it for granted.
end of part one.
8:30am on a Wednesday.
