Hello there, anonymous friends. You may not be in my head, like Kurt Cobain's friends, but you are in my computer. Why is it so much easier to talk about depression to an anonymous group of people than it is your real friends and family? I actually find talking about depression in real life humiliating.
The last 24 hours have been a bit odd. I managed a sleep yesterday afternoon and awoke feeling much, much better. This lasted about an hour before the old anxiety crept back in, like the woman behind the yellow bars. I spent yesterday evening watching television with my lovely, lovely husband and knitting, before I got an early night.
Let me digress here to say how much I adore my lovely, lovely Dominic. He always has been brilliant, but is absolutely excelling himself at the moment. I do not think it is possible to meet a kinder, more caring man than Dom. He is a gentle, reassuring presence in my life. He completely understands what I am experiencing, and is happy to let me just do what I can. He calmly but firmly encourages me to go out of the house with him a couple of times every day - usually to do chores - but never makes any demands of me that I can't fulfill. He's happy to plan meals if I cook (he can cook well enough himself and is happy to, I'm not saying that. He's wise enough to know he needs to keep me engaged with every day life. He doesn't get frustrated that I find making decisions nearly impossible, and will happily make suggestions and thank me for the efforts I do make.) I know I am leaning on him very heavily. I know that he is making all sorts of sacrifices and it must be very frustrating to live with me at the moment. But he is brilliant and just calmly says that he promised to love me in sickness and in health, and that's exactly what he is doing. Aren't I lucky? I mean seriously. I know I am seriously blessed. I love him with every inch of my being.
Anyway, pukey stuff over. I slept really well last night and got up intending to sort cupboards and do an hour of sorting work. I managed to check my emails, which for me was a huge achievement. It seems the phobia of the phone is extending to email now too.
Within an hour again I was feeling highly anxious, my heart was pounding and my mouth was dry. I suspect that it might be because my dose of fluoxetine has doubled. I know from experience that any change in anti-depressant medication seems to cause about a week of extreme anxiety before settling down to being better than I was initially. I sometimes wryly wonder whether they only work because they make you feel so shit that anything is better than the chemical low. Maybe I feel no better than I did originally at all.
On the plus side, it's a sunny day, the children have been well behaved and Jonny has gone to a friend's house for a sleepover. He was so excited. I haven't really explained to him what is wrong with me and, being an astute 12 year old, I am fairly certain he knows something is going on. I know there were times from my own childhood when I was aware that fairly serious 'grown up' stuff was happening, but I was too afraid to ask. I still don't know what happened to this day, and just assume that it was something gravely serious - although it might not actually have been. I am going to have to sit down with him tomorrow when he gets home and try to explain. It's hard to do that when I don't really understand it myself.
The same goes with our wider family and friends. I know that if I continue to avoid the phone and email then people will get cross with me and think I am avoiding them - it has happened before. But I can't bring myself to tell them what I am experiencing. It's just too personal. I want them to know, but not to talk to me about it. Dom is not keen to be the one to tell them, as he doesn't want them phoning him to check I am OK - which they will, incessantly. Dom does not like to have his personal time taken up with chit-chatty phone calls. I think deep down he hopes that my depression will go away of it's own accord before too long. I have to tell you that I am not convinced.
Knitting wise, I am doing the cables for the front of my fabbo knitted jacket. I have been really nervous about this as I've been barely capable of more than stocking stitch or granny trebles for the last few weeks. Anyway, here I am concentrating on a difficult pattern and I am actually enjoying it! Yay me! Maybe that is progress in itself. I am determined to have a 'frog or finish' week. I frogged the bamboo shrug that Charlie unpicked and changed the stitch counter on, as I couldn't be bothered to work out where in the pattern I was up to. I have the side panels and neckband of my pink jacket left to do. I have a sleeve and a half of Charlie's stripey jumper left, so I am hoping to have finished all my ongoing projects pretty quickly and then start on something new.
Off to indulge in more cabling. See you soon x