Today at work, I was overcome by my emotions. Hearing about my best friend “Amber’s” family drama upset me enough that it put me over the edge. No, Amber, this was NOT your fault, and yes, PLEASE continue to keep me informed of what’s going on. Today was a crazy fluke, I promise! I was feeling guilty for thinking my own family problems were bad, anger that someone could treat Amber and her family so rudely, and stresssing about a million different things. While sitting at my desk, alone in my little cubicle, I broke down and I cried. I texted my sister to tell her that I finally cried in my cubicle (she’s had more crazy hormones than I have), and we talked for a while. After about 40 minutes of crying (and not working, since I couldn’t see my computer screen through my tears, let alone didn’t care about work since it was one of the reasons I was crying), I ran out of tears (but not snot – funny how that works…).
I cried in outrage. I cried in anger. I cried in fear. I cried because I feel empty inside. I don’t feel like myself anymore. For 15 1/2 weeks I have been off my depression medication, and for once I can see myself as who I am without them. I don’t like to think of them as a crutch, but I’ve seen people in my own life who have said to themselves “Wow, the drugs cured me, I’m all better” and stop taking them – and then all Hell breaks loose. But for me, I know that they aren’t a cure for the chemical imbalance that I deal with everyday. There isn’t a cure for it. I like who I am on the medication because it makes me happy and healthy. I’m not suicidal when I’m off my meds, though some people can be. I am a “worst day ever-everyday” person when I’m off my meds. There’s this constant-rain-cloud-following-me feeling; this got-dressed-in-the-dark-so-the-brown-pants-I-think-I-put-on-are-actually-black-and-I-clash-and-don’t-notice-until-I-get-to-the-office feeling; this can’t-do-anything-right feeling. The world isn’t out to get me (although, I maintain that my cats are), but I just don’t want to get out of bed, and when I do, I regret it. I. Deal. With. This. Every. Day. For four months. And I have five more to go, plus possibly more with nursing.
I half-wondered if this guy “Kevin” who sits next to me would come over and check on me because I was sniffling and breathing heavy (hard to breathe when you’re nose is stuffed from crying). But he didn’t. I also half-expected the manager who sits next to me, “Michelle”, to check up on me because I one point I accidentally let out one of those half-hiccup-half-sobs. But she didn’t. I’m glad they didn’t. Because when people see me cry, I cry harder. And how do you explain to a manager that one of the reasons you’re crying is because I’m ready to be a housewife again? That would be me talking bad about my job, although in a roundabout way. I like my job, though it is extremely repetitive, and a monkey could do it. But I miss being home. I miss seeing my husband. I come home at 8:30, and we see each other for about two hours before we go to bed. Two hours a night isn’t enough when I’m used to five or six.
Normally, when I’m done crying, I feel so much better. But then again, that’s usually because my husband is there to give me a hug. Note added after the fact: I made this sound like my husband is the reason I’m crying, and he’s not! He just happens to help me STOP crying. Today, I just felt like I wanted to keep crying. Twice more I’ve had to wipe tears out of my eyes and tell myself to knock it off. Two hours after I had this “melt-down” I had a team meeting. I felt like eyes were still puffy and my nose was red. Nobody said anything or looked at me weird, so it’s probably just me. But I felt so disconnected in the meeting.
That’s one of the things I told “Amber” when I was talking to her. I feel so disconnected. Not so much from the world, just in general. Sure, there’s Facebook to keep up with my family. No problem keeping up with my sister – she posts about 15 status updates a day! ;P Love ya Sister! But I’m just not interested in doing anything. Ever. All my passion is gone. I don’t want to cook, I don’t want to clean (well, I never want to clean), I don’t want to crochet, I don’t want to play video games, I don’t want to watch TV. I just want to sleep.
I’m just so tired of feeling like this.
And that’s just one of the reasons why, today, I cried…