Welcome back to the inner workings of my little
demented interesting mind.
Quite the bunch of changes have occurred for me in the last several months – so let’s just jump in, shall we?
Last year, I had a job that I hated. Like… hated. The company was owned by well-meaning people, but really had the managing capability of a bunch of empty cardboard boxes. I was out of my element and very very very stressed out.
Now, I’m in a much better place. I’m the marketing director at a dental practice. As my gracious friend, Guapo, predicted, the job offer came in February. I was thrilled. This job pays more, offers more (in terms of professional growth), and has given me the comfort and support I need.
To my surprise, however, my depression worsened. I waved it off, at first, to the transition (newsflash – I don’t handle change well). But after I was quite comfortable in my new position, I was still struggling. Scary, alarming and unexpected struggling. Like… I’ll-bet-I-can-throw-myself-from-this-bridge-and-end-it-now type of scary. My struggles were noticeable by my close friends, as well as the hubs. I found myself isolating – totally unnerved by people. In fact, my anxiety of social situations has caused me some pretty awful experiences. This is all new – the social anxiety, at least. I love people! My job has required it! And I never minded, until now. I find that I avoid new people and new situations. I’m so concerned that people won’t accept me. Or that I will not be liked. The BFF says that I need to not give the power of my self-esteem to other people. ….that ain’t wrong. But…nonetheless…. it’s where I’m at now. It’s a slow steady movement to work through it. Baby steps. That’s what I say.
And just to make it interesting, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in May. After months of pain, it got to the point where I couldn’t stand it any longer. It’s been hard to walk, hard to move, hard to get out of bed in the morning, hard to function during the day. It’s be a big ole shit sandwich. I’m still new in the diagnosis, and finding myself feeling hopeless and useless. I’m tired, all the time. I just started taking Lyrica (after a somewhat upsetting “experiment” with Celebrex), and I’m seeing decent results. I’m not waking up pain-free. But it’s helped just a little. Which, these days, feels like a lot. Instead of feeling like I was beaten with a log while I slept, I just feel like I ran a marathon. It may not seem like a pleasant difference, but I assure you, it is.
The other part of this is that I struggle with how to explain it to other people. I mean, how do you say, “There’s no reason, there’s no cure, there’s not a lot of understanding. Yes, I’ve tried Advil. No it doesn’t work. I know… I don’t look sick. Trust me… I feel sick.” Additionally, because this is just how things go, the meds situation has taken some getting used to. I never wanted to ever be a girl who had to take meds every day (I never even liked the pill!), but this is where life has taken me….
….and so it goes.
It has been an exhilarating few months of highs and lows. I’m getting by. And glad to be back to writing. It is truly a release for me, and I’m looking forward to getting back in the swing of blogging.