It's my decision, and I choose "Happiness"

I am determined to stay happy. Life has taken a turn for the worst of late, and all of the control I thought I had in my world has ceased to exist in a convenient little puff of cartoon smoke. [Okay, maybe without the actual cartoon smoke puff, but work with me here...this is a happy post.]

The plan? Simple. Keep in contact with my friends - I swear, all of my close friends are having really wonderful weeks right now. And I'm determined to use their joy as a catalyst for my own happy moods instead of getting depressed and wishing I could be that happy. It's all about perspective. [Well, that and a good dose of sobbing over the past 2 days which has wiped out my ability to A) cry anymore and B) continue to feel sad from sheer exhaustion. Crying takes a lot out of ya!]

This week I have to:
- admit defeat and many mistakes in an ailing roommate situation [I hate it when I'm not perfect and can't just blame it all on the other person]
- pack my apartment and move out this weekend [unplanned moving trips are the best, really]
- most likely get an up in my meds [oh joy]
- figure out where I'm going to live next while squatting at a friends for a few weeks [my friends are amazing, truly amazing]

But, I'm determined to stay happy. Through all this chaos, I need a rallying cry, a light to follow, a steady grip to hold on to. I've decided that it will be happiness. It will clear my head, help me be more patient, and let me laugh through the inevitably difficult next couple of days.

To happiness I go! Who's with me?

It starts...again.

Well crap. It starts again. Today was the first day that I noticed that the days are getting shorter. And that always throws me for a loop. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but it's not true. I forget over the summer. I get so used to feeling good and happy all the time. I forget about the darkness that looms just beyond the sunshine - waiting for me on the other side of the Autumn Equinox.

And the thing is - it hit me much the same as it does every year. I get suddenly nervous about seemingly nothing at all. Just a horrible stomach-ache that I've learned is my version of a mild anxiety attack. And each year I get better at dealing with it. Each year it takes me less time to step back and assess why I suddenly feel like I'm afraid of the world. But that doesn't stop it from coming. It doesn't stop me from still being afraid of the world. It's just that I know how to figure out why.

And this is what I'm sick of. I'm sick of that "afraid-of-the-world" feeling. Sick of suddenly getting scared to see people, to do anything except crawl under the covers. Because that's all I want to do right now. Crawl under the covers and let life pass me by. It just seems like that would be so much easier than getting up and making myself continue to walk my life path.

Of course, in the end that's just what I'll do. I'll get that song going in my head from "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town":

You put one foot in front of the other,
And soon you'll be walking 'cross the floor...
You put one foot in front of the other,
And soon you'll be walking out the door.

And that's what I'll do. I'll make myself continue to take a step at a time - go do what it is I planned to do tonight. Be around people. Because once I'm there, I'll feel better. Once I'm there things will feel normal and okay again. Once I'm there, I'll stop shaking from fear of the world.

But right now? I'm shaking, I'm afraid, I'm alone, I'm petrified, I'm angry that it's all happening again.

Every year I realize this, too: I find I was hoping that this year it wouldn't come back.

Can I tell you how sick I am of saying that? How sick I am of letting myself down because I'm secretly, subconsciously hoping that this year I won't have to deal with my depression. It's all so stupid. I need to accept the fact that it'll always be here. Accept the fact that every year it will come back. Accept the fact that every year I'll have to deal with the day when I realize the days are getting shorter and I'll have to start dealing with the depression all over again.

Oh terrific. Now I'm shaking from fear AND I'm crying. Tonight is not my night.

Maybe, hopefully, surely tomorrow will be better, right? ......... Right?

[sigh]
Well, tomorrow I'll know, won't I?

On ridiculous fears that make no sense at all...

Okay. I know the fear of getting out of bed in the morning. We've all been there. It's a horrible feeling. And somehow, we all learn to cope with it, and deal with it in a way that allows us to get out of bed anyway (at least, that's the ultimate goal, right?). I've gotten good at making myself get out of bed eventually. I have to say "eventually" because it sometimes takes me a couple of hours to really get myself to the point where I can force myself upright and out from under the covers.

But what happens when the fear isn't of getting out of bed but of going to sleep?

I know, this sounds rather ridiculous, right? Why would I be afraid of one of the best things for my anxiety? Sleep is a good thing. it rejuvenates, it replenishes energy, it heals, it relaxes. But, apparently, tonight I'm afraid of it. I'm afraid of going to sleep.

I've been suffering from really bad insomnia lately. The kind that doesn't allow me to get to bed at a reasonable hour (once I'm actually sleeping, I sleep through the night). I stay up 'til 2-3-4 in the morning because I'm simply not tired enough to go to bed, or I feel rather apathetic about making the effort to put my computer down and climb under the covers. I hate that insomnia, but I know it happens.

Whatever, the point is: I was really excited last night because I was TIRED ENOUGH to go to bed at 11:30...and I probably dozed off at around midnight. That's a record for me these days. And tonight, I got tired at 1:00. Not as good, but still better than what I've been averaging lately. So, all set and ready to fall asleep, I laid my head on the pillow, closed my eyes, and snapped them back open when I suddenly felt a huge bout of anxiety run through me. My stomach hurt (well, still does), my head started splnning, my heart started racing, my brain start running wild (who knows what thoughts were running through my brain...they were going too fast to focus on clearly - generally tends to happen when I'm suffering an anxiety attack, no matter how mild).

Terrific. I'm afraid to fall asleep. What do I do with that? I now have to figure out how to go to sleep anyway. Or I have to stay up 'til I can't possibly sit up anymore and then sort of fall over onto the pillow with no time to think about the fear of falling asleep. I really don't want to have to do the second option. How can I convince myself that there's nothing scary about falling asleep? For the love of God...I've been through an awful lot over the years that I've been dealing with depression. I feel like I've run through strange symptoms pretty thoroughly. But apparently there's always one more surprise to be discovered. --Tonight, at 11, we explore "fear of falling asleep." Stay with us as we delve into the anxiety that accompanies the act of going to sleep. Jesus. Are you serious???

(On a completely random note, I wonder if there's a phobia name for the "fear of falling asleep?" If so, I guess maybe I could take comfort in knowing that there must be others who have suffered from this fear, otherwise it wouldn't have been named, right?

Ugh. Okay, I'm off to figure out how to make myself go to sleep despite the ridiculous anxiety associated with that action. Wish me luck...

The depression won this time...

I had a break-down yesterday.

Well, not the kind where I got all catatonic and didn't know what was up or down or sideways. It wasn't bad enough to drive me over any edges. It was bad enough, however, to render me quite useless yesterday. I was in the sort of state that didn't really allow rational thought anymore.

I had an anxiety attack strong enough to make me shake uncontrollably. My shoulders and neck are sore from how tense I was last night. My eyes are puffy because of all the crying I did last night. And the worst part is...someone saw me like this.

Oh, do I ever have issues with people seeing me less than the strong person I put forth to the world. I like appearing strong and controlled and centered. I don't know if I always succeed at putting that persona across, but I try really hard to do so.

In this case, I was going to practice with a friend of mine...and I got there early. I was still shaking - had been since I left the house. (I made myself leave the house because I hadn't left at all that day.) I was curled up in a corner of the room with my head in my hands when he came in. And he asked if I was alright. And of course I said I was fine. He asked again, since I was obviously not alright. I said I was fine again. He came closer and waited. And I started crying.

Crying, scared, suddenly completely unable to hold myself up anymore. I just let out on him: I was scared to get out of bed that morning. I was scared now for who knows what reason. I felt scared of my own shadow. I hadn't been this bad all winter, so I guessed perhaps I was about due for an anxiety attack - which is totally not how it works at all but oftentimes what it feels like with the depression roller coaster.

We talked for awhile...he offered his shoulder for me to cry on...he basically sat and listened to me for about a half-hour. And then he took me for a walk, dried my tears by talking about a favorite subject of ours, and took care of me the rest of the evening - inviting me to hang out with him.

It was fun, up until I went out to a bar with him and another friend that he was meeting up with. She's another friend of mine, but not someone I know very well yet. The first place we went was cool. I handled myself pretty well. Didn't get over-anxious. Didn't drink at all (good call, there). But the second place was a complete disaster. I sat and stared into space the entire time. Well, maybe not the entire time. I tried to dance with my friends. I tried to smile and laugh. But it was no use. I couldn't make myself do it. It was exhausting. I had to stop and sit. And sitting just made it worse somehow, because then I was constantly worrying that I was ruining my friends' fun. (I probably was...) But, somehow I couldn't figure out how to leave. I felt like if I left early, I'd be rude. Either that, or I had some odd notion in my mind that leaving would mean I'd miss out on the fun. Um, but I wasn't really having fun anyway...I was actually negatively affecting the fun. The night ended early with my two friends leaving the bar early (probably because they figured out that they couldn't cheer me up at all), and my guy friend gave me money to take a cab home because I'd missed the last T.

What an enormous burden I was. How awful! The only thing last night accomplished was creating a topic of question for my female friend, who doesn't know my situation at all. How awkward for my guy friend, who does know. Did he explain to her? If so, will that make things more awkward the next time I see her? If he didn't, then what excuse did he make for me? And how horrible that he'd have to make an excuse for me at all!

Today, I was supposed to go to a friend's birthday party - wine and cheese to start and then a blues dance into the wee hours of the morning. But, after my experience yesterday, I couldn't bring myself to go. The thought of being around a huge number of people...some of whom I know and some I don't...was too overwhelming. I decided it would be easier to simply make my excuses (saying I wasn't feeling well) and not show up, than to go and risk reliving another version of Friday night with a bunch of people who know me and would start asking me what was wrong and I wouldn't want to get into it... The social anxiety kicked in and I became instantly incapable of going to the party tonight.

Man, would I ever love to not have this kind of thing happen to me. I get to see my counselor this Thursday. And I'm excited for it...more than I normally am. I want to talk to her about this...see if there's something else affecting me that's bringing these symptoms to a peak that make them affect me more than I've been used to this entire winter. I'm more tense than I have been since the darkness set in this winter...perhaps there's something else going on that I haven't really given much thought consciously, but unconsciously it's kicking me in the gut.

This post is really rambly...wow. I try to make a certain amount of sense when I write entries to this blog, but this time it's more of a free-flow of thoughts and less of a coherent, cohesive post.