I’m still depressed. I’ve gotten better — there has been small progress made — but I’m still counting on that new medication to kick in; it works best after eight weeks of using it.
I’m isolating myself, and I’m using work projects to distract me from my anxiety and depression, but when I run out of things to do, I sit with myself and feel so uncomfortable, I just make up more work stuff to do. I realize this is not healthy, and I should sit with my feelings, but I can’t right now.
Because I asked my loved ones for help, and wrote about it in the Caller-Times, my friends and family have been giving me time and space. My husband has been pushing me (rightly so) to get out of my depression nest, and kudos to him for actually getting me to. There’s a fine line between being alone to heal yourself and isolating from all your friends and family.
Depression sucks. I realize I’m doing all these negative things I’ve sworn not to do as part of my recovery, but the depression takes over, and I just don’t care. That’s the very thing I tell others who are depressed not to do.