I am having a depressive episode again. This has been going on for two weeks already. Dr. G was right in maintaining the dosage of my medicines and not decreasing them further. She was worried that I would get stressed, what with my wedding in three months. She decided to lean toward caution.
But my wedding is not the main cause of my distress. It is daily life. Every day, I am scared of getting out of bed. I am scared of the day itself, because the moment I open my eyes, I sense that something is not right. That something bad will happen in the next 24 hours. That I am bound not to have a good day. This is anxiety, depression's sister.
Depression and anxiety come to me in tandem. I know they are here when the familiar gray clouds surround me again. I feel heavy inside, as if a ball and chain is weighing me down. Getting out of bed becomes a chore. Even eating becomes a chore. I also have the urge to cry for no particular reason.
At work, I try my best to go about my tasks unaffected by my episodes. But it is hard. I cannot wait for the day to be over because I want to retreat to my safe zone as soon as I can. I do not want to stop even to buy dinner because I want to head home as quickly as I can, so I end up having fastfood delivered to my place.
A lot of times, my depressive episodes coincide with PMS, which makes it worse. My hormones and my illness are conspiring against me, and I feel defenseless. I feel that no matter how religiously I follow my psychiatrist's advice, my episodes keep getting the best out of me. I end up drained and with a messed up mood.
As I type this, I just finished a McChicken burger meal and a cup of hot fudge sundae. I ordered those because I didn't stop to buy dinner on my way home. I also wanted to make myself feel better by eating "happy food." Do I feel happy now? No. Dark clouds still surround me. Let's just hope that I won't spiral down into a dark void. I won't be able to take it anymore.