So, I’ve kind’ve been a bit elusive about it, and kind’ve eluded to it also, at times. Kind of.

The last few days … weeks … months, I’ve been feeling rather crapulent. Or, not feeling, as the case may be.

A re-visit to the psych had me as “severely depressed” but not enough for meds. The last few days, I’ve been wondering if that was a good decision or not. Whatever, I’ve survived the last few months with few suicidal thoughts. None at all lately. Just feeling shit.

I’ve been putting it down to haveing lots on; a routine constantly being messed with (this does not bode well for a control freak like oneself), lack of financial security, going through the diagnostic process for autism, an arsefuck teacher who screwed with my little boy’s head and confidence, more messing with the barely-there routine, thanks to psych appointments for possible (then) ASD kid, and calls from the school for the older one … life in general.

More recently, it was the house being on the market, and the added bonus of even more mucking around with the now almost non-existent planning. Deadlines were flashing past me and I wasn’t able to do the things I loved, for caring for and doing the things that needed doing for those I loved.

Cue the psych visits and “severe depression”.

And lately? I was sick for over a month, close to two. The house still on the market. The now-officially-diagnosed ASD kid requires some therapy for things that had been bothering me for years, but I listened to others tell me “he’ll get there” instead of my gut. Still no financial security. Big opportunities for my business, requiring me to work more (no complaints, I LOVE what I do) but worry the lack of routine won’t allow me to do all that is needed.

Funnily, I’m still managing to do; to meet the demands of others, to get done (mostly) the things I’ve promised I would. I wish I could see this more clearly, but I can’t. I can’t feel it, either, which is kind of depressing in itself.

The sucky shit about depression is I know what to do about the shit bothering me, and I can postive talk my way out of a plastic bag. I can plan, create, organised, do … but depression, for me at least, is a beast in and of itself. It’s a .. thing that takes over my thoughts and actions. It’s not me, or even part of me … it’s an imposter that creeps into my head, and whispers horrible things into my hear, and causes my brain to literally shut down at times.

Not completely, of course. It just shuts down parts; the bits that help me join A with C … B is just gone. I can’t finish thoughts, or make decisions because although I know I have a frozen chicken in my hand to cook for dinner, I can’t actually remember that there is any such thing as “cooking a chicken” … I stare at it blankly and wonder “What do I do with this?”

This third person does this, just so I can feel even more shit about myself; “HA! Can’t even do something with a frozen chook! LOSER!”

The house sold last weekend. And I had a moment to breath. I realise, it’s not all the “stuff” going on that has caused me to feel crap.

It’s the stuff that I haven’t been doing. Not the lack of routine that has caused delays and hurdles in my doing what I love.

It’s that I’m frustrated, angry, annoyed with stuff … and I’ve been doing nothing about it.

I’ve been sitting back and not saying anything, when I know, for a fact, that when I speak up, things change. Not just for me, but for many others. Even organisations have changed after my interactions with them .. changed for the better, and made positive changes to the lives of others.

Mostly, it’s killing me, not speaking up. I’ve, stupidly, been worried what others will think, do and say.

In shutting up, I got sick. Physically and mentally. I had a bad chest thing, that flittered in and out of my throat. Eastern Medicine might say my heart was unwell, because I wasn’t letting it be, and my throat sore from not speaking up. Whatever …

I care so much what others think of me, even those who are ignorant, stupid and shallow minded. I don’t know why I let them bother me, but I do.

I know I have things to say that can – and does – change social perceptions and, right now, I’m saying ENOUGH! To myself.

Of course, I’d love to say it to the ignorant, stupid and shallow minded, but the point would be lost.

I’m going to finish this post here, because it’s getting too long. There is a follow up … things I’ve had ENOUGH of

7 Replies to “ENOUGH!”

  1. I hope you feel the love and support from us all on here and Twitter.It is good to speak out about your feelings.Please dont take notice of any of the ignorant or shallow minded.They are the minority and just dont count.Big comforting hugs xx

  2. Pingback: ENOUGH!! Part 2
  3. Oh sweetheart, I wish I could hug you right now. I so feel ya. I just went back on antidepressants last week AND just came out on my blog to say so too. There is NO SHAME in being public, honestly, as Doctor Seuss said “the ones you matter don’t mind and the ones who mind don’t matter!”

    If you’re still feeling shit seriously go see your GP and demand a second opinion. I’m not trying to be a drug pusher, but honestly, if you need help and are open to meds as an option then I honestly think just do what is going to keep you from toppling. In the past two weeks I’ve felt SO much better…the meds were just a starting point, which helped me cope with life a bit better, which meant that I was able to actually treat my body a bit better by cutting out crap which I was using to cope before…anyhoo, sorry for rambling but your post just really hit a nerve as it’s something I’m only just emerging from now.

    Huge love to you.

  4. My lovely, I understand and empathize and have absolutely no help for you.

    I, like you, have so much going on and meds ain’t gunna do shit to help.

    I am taking my frustrations out on the treadmill and a extra large whatevercarbIcangetmyhandson. Hopefully they will cancel each other out.

    Sending love xx

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