I am choking on the irony of having posted "Apparently I am getting more sane ..." and then having the week I just had. No, nothing 'bad' happened. No illnesses or accidents or any of that. It is, as usual, the depression that comes out of nowhere. People see me, notice I am down, and say "What's wrong?" I want to say "Where have you been for the last two years (or ten or thirty)? Do you see the list of diagnoses at the top of this page? That's what's wrong. Do I need more?"
People are surprised. "But you were doing better." I want to pummel them over the head. "So that means I never have another bad day, or week, or month, then? Progress is always straight up, eh?"
Grumpy, down, overwhelmed, sad, and cranky. What a great combo. Oh yeah, I have a migraine, too, with that wonderful nausea that goes with it. I'm blaming this one on the Celexa. But I'm blogging, and I'm going to count this as my "functional" success of the day. Whoo.
What I think set me off was a series of health related stuff. Again, nothing bad, just stuff that is starting to need attention. I've been overweight for decades, and was able to get away with it because I was young. I'm not young anymore, and my last physical shows me on the border of having some cardiac issues; my good cholesterol is going down, my lipids are no good, my triglycerides are on the line. Doc is saying that if the niacin does not work, I'll probably have to start a statin drug. This is ridiculous. I'm too young and the wrong gender to be on Lipitor. Yes, that's a stupid way to think, but here I am thinking it.
But taking all those supplements she has prescribed is hard. My OCDs are mostly contamination based. Pills are a daily struggle. I have seven total to deal with, given the mind meds and the supplements. It's too many. I showed her all the bottles and said I couldn't promise to be med compliant with all this stuff, and she had to eliminate some of them. She didn't. So I have the same lineup of bottles to deal with every morning, and that means some mornings I turn away from them in defeat.
So I have to lose weight. Which means exercise for real. I can do it, but it takes an inhaler to do it without practically passing out, since I have exercise induced asthma. And I'm afraid of the inhaler. I've been using it, but it makes me feel terrible. I need a different prescription. That means calling and getting one. And then finally picking it up and using it. Inhaling weird stuff. And then I'm still supposed to have mental resources left to get on the treadmill?
And then there are the flexibility and strength exercises. I have those from my somatic therapist. She at least agreed when I said she could give me three and no more. So there they are, another thing to do every day, added to a list that I can't handle as it is.
Include food. Food, which is one of my real trigger issues regarding OCD. Shopping, cooking, and then cleaning up. I can do one of those, not three. But losing weight and eating right means planning meals, shopping, keeping the pantry stocked, using leftovers, etc. etc. I can't even bear to think about it. My mind is not dealing with planning, and I don't have the energy to stand in front of the stove and cook.
Okay I could continue with the depressive ranting. But the picture is pretty clear. I am trying, really trying, to get better. It is never good enough. Never fast enough. There is always more more more to do more to try. Pressure. And then when I get some random physical chronic illness it'll be my fault.
There's my whiny post. I'll try to get something less self-indulgent next time.
Your Hostess With Neuroses