Saturday, 6 April 2013

Irony is evil

So about two days after my last post where I so happily posted my intention to wean down my dose of antidepressants, I started feeling the gloom. I guess I had been ignoring the signs. I didn't want it to be true and I was doing my best to believe the story that with my last child born and this year just ticking over, that my hope would be fulfilled and that I could pretend that I could just get on with living.

But no. The gloom has not lifted. My anxiety is back. I am feeling under an overwhelming, thick blanket of self loathing and sadness. I am trying, I really am. To kick that damn blanket off. But it keeps creeping back. I hear myself speaking negatively, I have those unbidden, horrible thoughts about myself and that I just can't do it. That it is all too much and that I am the broken bit of the puzzle which is stopping the picture being beautiful.

Today I cried with my hubby. It felt good to cry and be angry that we are back here again. And to talk about "living with depression" in a very long term sense. No magic wand.

So the blanket has lifted a little. I feel okay tonight. I hope for deep and refreshing sleep. And on Monday I will go to the doctor and say "You know that plan to cut back..." And I will choose more consciously to do what I know I need to do to head once again towards wellness. But I am angry and sad and angry, that as a few things have happened, and I have had some stress, and I have eaten crap food, and not exercised enough, and not been more mindful, that my mind has once again slipped down the rabbit hole. And I will have to scrabble back out again.

There is so much shame in that. Cause unlike a broken leg, where I could point to a cast and show you the xray and point and say "See, here. It's broken"... instead it is me who is broken and faulty.

Depression is shit.


  1. ah Marion, you put it so well. It really is the worst. Total shit. :( The thought of coming off my drugs makes me feel ill with anxiety!!! xoxoxoxoxoxo

  2. Feeling broken and faulty is horrible. I love you when you feel broken, faulty, angry, happy, sad, hurt, stressed, glad or mad. And when you feel like you have scrabbled back out I will love you then too. We're playing the long game babe. Big hugs.

  3. Oh Marion :( you're not broken. Or we all are broken. I don't have the right words except to agree wholeheartedly with your final sentence, and say that Jesus is in this with you, in you, in your heart, your dreams, your fears, your passions, and though it makes no sense and doesn't make it any better- this is your story and there is incredible beauty in the broken places. Especially for me as a reader. Selfish of me. Love and prayers to you, nick, Ella and George.