Cheer up, buttercup

I’ve had this blog post stored in my drafts for about a week. I’ve written the blogs to follow before I’ve even posted this one. I really wasn’t sure whether to post it or really how I should finish it. I wanted to stay as accurate as I could with it, but was worried about how personal it would become. I’ve finally got to a place with this post at which I’m happy to publish it, but I may change my mind and keep this one private.

 

Have you ever had those mornings where you don’t want to get out of bed? You just want to lie there and do nothing, there’s a lack of motivation, a feeling of dread about the day, and your escape is to sleep it all away. Do you ever feel shit about yourself but you don’t know why? It isn’t for a particular reason and it’s just jumped up out of nowhere. Do you ever feel like ripping out your hair, or screaming, or just falling to floor crying? It isn’t always as dramatic as this, but you just go about the day in a rotten mood, sensitive to the littlest thing, like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode on an innocent bypasser who asks “Are you ok?” or tells you to “Cheer up.”

At this moment in time, this is honestly how I felt. At times I felt worried, stressed and panicky over things I have to do day to day, which in effect, is why I felt tired, unmotivated, crappy, sad, etc. But I didn’t realize that the anxious feelings were the cause of my low moods at this point. If anything, I brushed off those moments of panic over absolutely nothing, because I never got to the point where I couldn’t breathe. So in my doctor’s appointment, when I did manage to explain how I felt, I didn’t even feel the need to mention these anxious times, because I thought that’s how everybody felt. I thought it was the norm.

I couldn’t manage to say half of what I wanted to. I couldn’t even get out a quarter. But whatever I did manage to tell the doctor, (trying to remember this was a bit of a blur because I was so upset) led him to ask the question

“Do you ever wish you weren’t here?”

At this, I was gobsmacked. I couldn’t really concentrate on the rest of the appointment. I managed to tell him no, but that’s all I really know. He muttered on about some sort of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and the links to depression. And how he wasn’t trying to say I was depressed, but this syndrome he thinks I had could make me depressed. So I left that appointment with my mascara all down my face, a leaflet about chronic fatigue syndrome in one hand, and a prescription for fluoxetine (antidepressant) in the other to trial.

I felt numb for the rest of the day. I can’t even remember driving home. Me? Depressed? I know myself better than anyone and I knew I wasn’t depressed. What got to me more is that the last week I had been feeling good. I had started my new job, working pretty much full-time hours, and I was actually enjoying it. What the doctor had said just put a real downer on it all for me. After talking to the people I trusted most when I got home, my mother, my nan and my best friend, and hearing all of their different opinions, I came to the decision after a week to not take the fluoxetine. I read the leaflet and this Syndrome definitely wasn’t me. So I was once again without an answer. What the hell was wrong with me?

For the rest of summer, I had a really good time. Unlike most people, I don’t mean I had the summer of my life, especially seeing as I hardly saw my friends and I didn’t go anywhere exciting, but I mean I think I only had one maybe two “down days” throughout the whole time. I have to thank my job for that. It kept me busy, kept my mind occupied, and I was made welcome and had made new friends. But then school started back.

Honestly, it was like flicking a switch. The week leading up to school was, quite frankly, shit.

My mood became quite moody and quite low, which also didn’t go unnoticed by a few people in work. But how do you explain to them what’s wrong when you don’t even know yourself?

So I returned to school and have been for the last month or so now, and although I’ve had good days, I’ve had some really shit ones too. Two weeks after starting back, I had a minor meltdown. Unfortunately, this occurred in work over being spoken to for not covering some points of customer service. I just broke down. It wasn’t even over this, just everything had caught up with me and it pushed me over the edge. After work finished and I got home, the tears started again and I was questioning what the hell was wrong with me.

Around 2 weeks ago, I was browsing the web and came across an article on anxiety. The amount I related to it was weird. 8 out the 11 things talked about honestly felt like I could have written them myself. It may sound odd, but I was insanely happy about this. After talking about it with my mum, and reading up about anxiety more and more, I thought I may have finally found closure. I booked another doctors appointment to discuss it which is in two days time, I pray and pray that this will give me what I need.

 

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3 thoughts on “Cheer up, buttercup

  1. Doctors are crap at understanding the roots of emotional distress. From what you’re describing YOU are the best expert on understanding what’s happening for you emotionally. Depression is not a death sentence, it’s often anger we’ve turned in on ourselves. Anxiety can also look like depression, especially if we’re not sure what the source of the anxiety could be. Vitamin deficiencies and stress can affect our mood, but our minds and bodies are truly meant to be considered as one whole. Best of luck with your doctors appointment but consider yourself and inner intuition a good resource as well.

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