I have been hesitating to write this, because I know people who know me in real life read this blog and I don't want to seem like I am being a drama queen.
But people, I am in a bad way over here.
I've been really struggling lately with a monster bout of depression. I feel fat, ugly, useless, a drain on society and like a loser and utter waste of space. Self-loathing is the order of the day.
And the universe keeps handing me reasons to think so. Money worries, weight issues, job rejections, everything keeps piling up. I even have a HUGE pair of pimples on my left cheek.
It stinks. I hate this. Paul said to me the other night, when I collapsed into sobs over something pretty innocent that he'd said, that he hates seeing me like this. That I'm not seeing things realistically, and I need to get some chemical or human help to get through this. I've had clinical depression before and I think I'm relapsing. It's been four years, some of those years pretty tough, since I have felt this bad so I guess I am due. Were it not for Paul and Maggie, I'm not sure I'd get out of bed. As worthless as I feel, they seem to think I have something they need, so I have to keep going. I know all the stats about depressed mothers and the effect it has on their kids, so I owe it to Maggie to get better. And I should add 1) my period started yesterday and 2) we're just emerging from the hell known as Maggie's first ear infection so I have been getting very little sleep. Neither thing helps my mood, to say the least.
But it sucks, sucks to feel this way all the time, sucks to hate the very sight of your fat face and to be pretty well convinced everyone else feels the same. If someone else felt this way, if a friend told me she felt like this or another blogger did a post like this, I'd rush to their defense, and share my own struggles and what helped. But I can't for myself. Paul tells me daily how much he loves me, that I am a great woman and a great mom and his best friend. It doesn't help. Well, it does; I can't imagine feeling like this and being married to someone who agrees with me. I owe it to him to get better as well. I've seen him through some depression and it blows to be married to someone who's no fun, ever.
I think, having been down here before, that I know the way out (Effexor or Wellbutrin, here I come!). I know, when I get through this, that I'll realize one day living this way is one day too long. But God it all seems hopeless right now