34 days later and things are…. different now.
Let’s start just after that post:
I loved my job but I didn’t love who I worked for. Nice guy with some serious control issues. I don’t do well in that environment. I was making things happen and feeling pretty good about it, but it was never enough. No matter what I did, it was never enough to make him happy. So, I took control of the situation and began to look for a new job. Found one that read “part-time” but ended up being full-time. More on that later.
Still no Lyrica. Pain = *way* worse. I’m currently in the middle of a flare that is a rival to any of the others. Over the weekend I was pretty much useless. Which sucks. I’ll elaborate on that later.
Depression is better and worse, depending on the day. Overall, I’d say I’ve climbed out of the hole a little. Which is great. Somedays, though, it sucks me back down. I just take it one day at a time… kinda like an alcoholic. More on *that*…. you guessed it…….later.
New job. It’s pretty awesome. I’m making more money, have more leeway, and have a ton of professional respect for what I do. Plus, I have my very own office, with a door and everything. For those of you who have lived (or still do) in Cube-City, you can appreciate the magnitude of having your own space. I am the Director of Marketing. I am learning new things and utilizing my skills to make a positive impact, and that makes me a happy girl.
I was going to go back to the doctor in September, but didn’t. Like a dummy, I figured that the pain would pass and I’d be okay. Welp….it didn’t. So the joke’s on me. The flare I am experiencing is seriously some of the very worst I can imagine. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Thankfully, the hubs and the kiddo have been indispensable and have been taking very good care of me. In the very worst times, I can see how lucky I am.
And….the depression. I would say that right about when I wrote that last post I had hit rock bottom. I sat on the floor of my bedroom with a bottle of Xanax and a bottle of booze and knew I could end it all. Obviously… I didn’t. But the thought was there and it was an overwhelming. I would say that Fear is a companion of Depression. And you know why Depression can sell Fear so well? Because Depression talks to you in your own voice. It whispers all those awful things about your worst fears in a voice that sounds *just. like. you* which makes it easy to listen. And it almost got me. By God’s Grace, I was able to hold on and get through. I’m trying, now, to rebuild myself. It’s much more difficult than you’d think.
So where am I now? Here…… I guess I’m here. And that’s no place spectacular, but it is alive. And that’s enough, for now.
I caution those who may be reading this and feeling the same empty weight that I was….. reach out and talk with someone. Accept that you may need help. Remember, Depression is a lying bastard. And Fear is his evil companion. Don’t let them in. You can get through it.
I’ll get back to more interesting posts… Lord knows we have enough darkness in the world. I’m going to get back to shining my light.
Love you all. Thank you for reading. xoxo